My dad was released from the hospital last night! Yayyyyy!!! I
am SO happy! He is in a lot of pain though. I got my first good
night's sleep last night and slept til about 9:30am today then went
into what turned out to be a very long day at work. I am so be-
hind! Then I went to visit my dad at his house and I hate that he
is hurting so much but he does look good.
By the way, of all four of us who were in the room a lot, guess
who left the hospital with a staph infection? Yep! That would
be the immune compromised ME. Now, I am SUPER HAPPY
that my dad didn't get a staph infection, nor anyone else actually.
But why do I always have to pick up every damn germ floating
around?
And UNFORTUNATELY, it's on my FACE. Very unattractive
but the doctor said we were lucky to catch it this early and I'm
on Cipro since this morning. Lovely. This is the second staph
infection I've had and I knew immediately that's what it was.
Lovely. Just lovely. LOL
I had a blood count taken today to see how well my procrit is
working and I'll get the results of that tomorrow, but I have a
feeling its going to come out well because I am starting to feel
better and I have more color and all of that good stuff. Plus, my
migraines seem to be under control lately.
So now if the chicken market would just turn around and people
could quit hitting my damn car then life would truly start look-
pretty damn good. LOL
Tuesday, November 29, 2005
Monday, November 28, 2005
For Steve
1) Steve/Utopia, your post made me cry.
2) Everything you said - I wouldn't have changed a thing
about it. What you said about me, the entire situation,
Absolutely correct.
2) Everything you said - I wouldn't have changed a thing
about it. What you said about me, the entire situation,
Absolutely correct.
Sunday, November 27, 2005
Oddly Enough
On the way home yesterday my stepmom and I just happened
across this flock of geese so I pulled over and snapped a few
photos that I thought I would share since like, I'm holed up
here at the hospital with my puter.
huh. They don't look as clear as they do on flickr for some reason.
This is my first experience with flickr though so I may not be doing
it right. My public acct there is under sydala or sydala@hotmail.com
Don't email there though I never check it. Email me at:
msobliqueone@hotmail.com Bye for now!
Monday
My dad may get to go home. He is like defying ALL medical odds.
It is AWESOME!
He's a huge Alabama fan (even though we all know they
suck) so I got him these beanies and balloon.
!!!!!!!HOOK EM HORNS!!!!!!!!
Ok, sorry, I just had to say that. Anyway. He really DOES
want to go home, but he's a little less that excited about the
fact that they are about to take him off of his oxygen, oops,
I meant the morphine pain pump.
Hey, its not going to be any picnic for those of us spending
the night in the room with him EITHER, although... when
he was all hopped up on narcotics I made him promise that
I could cut into the regularly scheduled fishing programming
to watch Desperate Housewives. N0w that is a cool dad!
I told him he could perv on Nicollette Sheridan and Gabrielle
Solis. Here we go, an embarassing photo for posterity:
Now doesn't he just look so happy?
I love you Daddy!
It is AWESOME!
He's a huge Alabama fan (even though we all know they
suck) so I got him these beanies and balloon.
!!!!!!!HOOK EM HORNS!!!!!!!!
Ok, sorry, I just had to say that. Anyway. He really DOES
want to go home, but he's a little less that excited about the
fact that they are about to take him off of his oxygen, oops,
I meant the morphine pain pump.
Hey, its not going to be any picnic for those of us spending
the night in the room with him EITHER, although... when
he was all hopped up on narcotics I made him promise that
I could cut into the regularly scheduled fishing programming
to watch Desperate Housewives. N0w that is a cool dad!
I told him he could perv on Nicollette Sheridan and Gabrielle
Solis. Here we go, an embarassing photo for posterity:
Now doesn't he just look so happy?
I love you Daddy!
Saturday, November 26, 2005
Ok, So Really
I just took a break to bring my stepmother home in a blissfully
harmonious car ride home so that she could get her vehicle and
bring it back to the hospital and so that I could go to my doc's
and get a prescription for Dylan. Because you know, my step-
mother and I just have NOT had nearly enough face time of
late. I mean, Mon Dieu! What if we forgot how each other
looked or something? Ya know?
So anyway, I drop her off and I (finally) get through to my Doc.
Who is rather umm... three sheets to the wind. He decides we
should take his car to his office to write the scrip. In all actuali-
ty you can write a scrip on ANYTHING, a paper bag even. But
with a controlled substance, and on a Saturday, it just LOOKS
better on a regular scrip pad. Ya know?
I was parked kind of off to the side behind him and I DID SAY
to him, "Please don't hit my car when you pull out." I said this
about ten seconds before I heard the SMASH. I'm having a
lovely fucking couple of days let me tell ya. At least my dad is
doing well.
harmonious car ride home so that she could get her vehicle and
bring it back to the hospital and so that I could go to my doc's
and get a prescription for Dylan. Because you know, my step-
mother and I just have NOT had nearly enough face time of
late. I mean, Mon Dieu! What if we forgot how each other
looked or something? Ya know?
So anyway, I drop her off and I (finally) get through to my Doc.
Who is rather umm... three sheets to the wind. He decides we
should take his car to his office to write the scrip. In all actuali-
ty you can write a scrip on ANYTHING, a paper bag even. But
with a controlled substance, and on a Saturday, it just LOOKS
better on a regular scrip pad. Ya know?
I was parked kind of off to the side behind him and I DID SAY
to him, "Please don't hit my car when you pull out." I said this
about ten seconds before I heard the SMASH. I'm having a
lovely fucking couple of days let me tell ya. At least my dad is
doing well.
The Three Proofs
EVEN GOD ENJOYS A GOOD LAUGH
There were 3 good arguments that Jesus was Black:
1. He called everyone brother .
2. He liked Gospel.
3. He couldn't get a fair trial.
But then there were 3 equally good arguments that Jesus
was Jewish:
1. He went into His Father's business.
2. He lived at home until he was 33.
3. He was sure his Mother was a virgin and his Mother was sure
He was God.
But then there were 3 equally good arguments that Jesus
was Italian:
1. He talked with His hands.
2. He had wine with His meals.
3. He used olive oil.
But then there were 3 equally good arguments that Jesuswas
a Californian:
1. He never cut His hair.
2. He walked around barefoot all the time.
3. He started a new religion.
But then there were 3 equally good arguments that
Jesus was an American Indian:
1. He was at peace with nature.
2. He ate a lot of fish.
3. He talked about the Great Spirit.
But then there were 3 equally good arguments that Jesus
was Irish:
1. He never got married.
2. He was always telling stories.
3. He loved green pastures.
But the most compelling evidence of all - 3 proofs that
Jesus was a woman:
1. He fed a crowd at a moment's notice when there
was no food.
2. He kept trying to get a message across to a bunch of men
who just didn't get it.
3. And even when He was dead, He had to
get up because there was work to do.
AMEN
There were 3 good arguments that Jesus was Black:
1. He called everyone brother .
2. He liked Gospel.
3. He couldn't get a fair trial.
But then there were 3 equally good arguments that Jesus
was Jewish:
1. He went into His Father's business.
2. He lived at home until he was 33.
3. He was sure his Mother was a virgin and his Mother was sure
He was God.
But then there were 3 equally good arguments that Jesus
was Italian:
1. He talked with His hands.
2. He had wine with His meals.
3. He used olive oil.
But then there were 3 equally good arguments that Jesuswas
a Californian:
1. He never cut His hair.
2. He walked around barefoot all the time.
3. He started a new religion.
But then there were 3 equally good arguments that
Jesus was an American Indian:
1. He was at peace with nature.
2. He ate a lot of fish.
3. He talked about the Great Spirit.
But then there were 3 equally good arguments that Jesus
was Irish:
1. He never got married.
2. He was always telling stories.
3. He loved green pastures.
But the most compelling evidence of all - 3 proofs that
Jesus was a woman:
1. He fed a crowd at a moment's notice when there
was no food.
2. He kept trying to get a message across to a bunch of men
who just didn't get it.
3. And even when He was dead, He had to
get up because there was work to do.
AMEN
Now Back to Our Regularly
Scheduled Programming
They took my dad's pain pump off constant last night. You know,
where he has to squeeze it HIMSELF now? So needless to say, he
DID NOT sleep as well. Needless to say, nor did I.
At 3am -ok, please remember he's on morphine- he turned on the
tv and started watching a Kenny Rogers infommercial. I kid you
fucking n0t. For REAL. I went over and pushed his morphine for
him, totally, I'll admit, selfishly. You know, hoping to God he'd fall
asleep. Then I tried to turn old Kenny off, or even, down. No dice.
I got yelled at for my efforts. Since then we've been watching a
never ending series of westerns.
I'm just not sure I personally have enough drugs to get through this
one...
They took my dad's pain pump off constant last night. You know,
where he has to squeeze it HIMSELF now? So needless to say, he
DID NOT sleep as well. Needless to say, nor did I.
At 3am -ok, please remember he's on morphine- he turned on the
tv and started watching a Kenny Rogers infommercial. I kid you
fucking n0t. For REAL. I went over and pushed his morphine for
him, totally, I'll admit, selfishly. You know, hoping to God he'd fall
asleep. Then I tried to turn old Kenny off, or even, down. No dice.
I got yelled at for my efforts. Since then we've been watching a
never ending series of westerns.
I'm just not sure I personally have enough drugs to get through this
one...
Friday, November 25, 2005
So My Dad
Got moved out of ICU Wednesday night and my stepmother and I
have been staying here together with him since then. Ahhh, family
unity and joy at its finest. I've been staying downstairs ever since
the surgery even at night while she went home an hour away so
the doctor came to talk to me when they moved my dad and I had
no idea he hadn't come to talk to her. She was FUCKING LIVID.
Plus, he didn't come back til the next day. She accused me of it be-
ing my fault they were moving him to a regular room. I said, umm
I think a regular room is supposed to be a good thing (bitch) ok, that
part was under my breath. She said, if only one of us can stay I'M
STAYING WITH HIM. I said, oh, so NOW you want to stay. I
said, probably both of us can stay. And we can. So joy of joys, the
three of us are together in a room. My stepmom, my dad and me.
She gets yelled at a lot. Which is good. My dad is doing better
when he starts yelling. I don't get yelled at much because I just
Don't GET YELLED AT MUCH. And even sick, my dad knows
better than that. I finally got them to put him on a pain pump
yesterday and he's doing really great. He may get to go home
early next week.
He did, get this, pull out his nasal gastric tube in the middle of the
night because he SAYS he had a dream he was at a bbq. I said,
and what, everyone was dancing around pulling out their ng tubes?
I don't think the doctor bought the story either. It's earned him a
few more days with no food.
"Or it gets the tube again."
have been staying here together with him since then. Ahhh, family
unity and joy at its finest. I've been staying downstairs ever since
the surgery even at night while she went home an hour away so
the doctor came to talk to me when they moved my dad and I had
no idea he hadn't come to talk to her. She was FUCKING LIVID.
Plus, he didn't come back til the next day. She accused me of it be-
ing my fault they were moving him to a regular room. I said, umm
I think a regular room is supposed to be a good thing (bitch) ok, that
part was under my breath. She said, if only one of us can stay I'M
STAYING WITH HIM. I said, oh, so NOW you want to stay. I
said, probably both of us can stay. And we can. So joy of joys, the
three of us are together in a room. My stepmom, my dad and me.
She gets yelled at a lot. Which is good. My dad is doing better
when he starts yelling. I don't get yelled at much because I just
Don't GET YELLED AT MUCH. And even sick, my dad knows
better than that. I finally got them to put him on a pain pump
yesterday and he's doing really great. He may get to go home
early next week.
He did, get this, pull out his nasal gastric tube in the middle of the
night because he SAYS he had a dream he was at a bbq. I said,
and what, everyone was dancing around pulling out their ng tubes?
I don't think the doctor bought the story either. It's earned him a
few more days with no food.
"Or it gets the tube again."
Tuesday, November 22, 2005
Ok, So...
My dad made it through a surgery that was over five hours long. That's a long fucking time to wait when you're the one who isn't asleep by the way. Oh wait. I did sleep. I took more xanax yesterday than they keep in the entire psychiatric wing of some major medical facilities. Every once in a while someone would disturb my sleep to let me know that surgery was still progressing and that my father was still alive.
To which I would reply that if he had succumbed, surgery would probably cease to progress. Most doctors aren't big into wasting their time like that. Which would earn me more than a few dirty looks. To which I would REPLY... Why don't you guys just wake me up: A. If there is a problem or B. When they come out and tell us surgery is over? I don't want to know that surgery is progressing. I expect it to fucking progress. Unless, you know, something bad happens. Can't you see that I am trying to deal with my stress by overmedicating and avoidance?
So we didn't see my dad from early yesterday until 4:30pm. He'll be in ICU at least three days. And I miss him. I get to see him thirty minutes, four times per day. My stepmother made sure that I couldn't spend the night in the ICU by asking the nurse about it in advance instead of letting me talk to her about it because basically, she didn't want me to stay there with my dad. While I was asleep she also managed to chat up EVERY OTHER person in the waiting room and tell them the entire medical history of my dad, my grandmother, me, her and God knows who else. She makes me insane. Especially during times of stress. If I could slap a big shot of valium in her ass without getting arrested I would. But then she would probably just talk more. To more people. Yes I KNOW. I write a blog. And tell people almost everything. But somehow its different than when you can't catch a moment's silence from someone sitting right the fuck next to you.
Ever notice how nasty and pissy I get when I'm nervous? Guess that's MY way of coping.
huh.
To which I would reply that if he had succumbed, surgery would probably cease to progress. Most doctors aren't big into wasting their time like that. Which would earn me more than a few dirty looks. To which I would REPLY... Why don't you guys just wake me up: A. If there is a problem or B. When they come out and tell us surgery is over? I don't want to know that surgery is progressing. I expect it to fucking progress. Unless, you know, something bad happens. Can't you see that I am trying to deal with my stress by overmedicating and avoidance?
So we didn't see my dad from early yesterday until 4:30pm. He'll be in ICU at least three days. And I miss him. I get to see him thirty minutes, four times per day. My stepmother made sure that I couldn't spend the night in the ICU by asking the nurse about it in advance instead of letting me talk to her about it because basically, she didn't want me to stay there with my dad. While I was asleep she also managed to chat up EVERY OTHER person in the waiting room and tell them the entire medical history of my dad, my grandmother, me, her and God knows who else. She makes me insane. Especially during times of stress. If I could slap a big shot of valium in her ass without getting arrested I would. But then she would probably just talk more. To more people. Yes I KNOW. I write a blog. And tell people almost everything. But somehow its different than when you can't catch a moment's silence from someone sitting right the fuck next to you.
Ever notice how nasty and pissy I get when I'm nervous? Guess that's MY way of coping.
huh.
Sunday, November 20, 2005
The So Cool Thing
About having a teenager who can drive is that you can send him
out for food. All the time. He's bringing home dinner right now.
This makes twice today. LOVE IT.
out for food. All the time. He's bringing home dinner right now.
This makes twice today. LOVE IT.
Saturday, November 19, 2005
Other guys
In Hollywood who I like who may seem a little weird to some but
probably not AS weird as some guys I may have mentioned pre-
viously...
Willem Defoe
Joe Mantegna
And there you have it
probably not AS weird as some guys I may have mentioned pre-
viously...
Willem Defoe
Joe Mantegna
And there you have it
Well Let's See
Ok. Here it is. All of the Shit. That is my life. Lately. And some
of the not so shitty stuff. Pay attention. Some of the shitty stuff
is stuff I've done. YEP. Ooo-k. Here we go.
My dad IS going to have to have the bad surgery where they have
to open him up to do the surgery. They are doing it Monday. If
he survives the surgery he will be in the hospital in ICU for a while
and then in the hospital for at least two weeks.
I slept with a MARRIED 28 year old vendor. Very gorgeous and
he did take his ring off so that I wouldn't know he was married.
I was drunk and there was a storm and his room was closer than
my car and he suggested I stay for a while until the storm, you
know, ended. I have actually successfully negotiated this maneu-
ver in the past. But this guy was a cuddler. Oh fuck that. This guy
was horny. And very good with his hands. And an excellent lay.
Beautiful green eyes by the way. And did I mention that although
he took his ring off, I am wise to that particular maneuver so I did
ask sometime during dinner, so hey, how long have you been mar-
ried? And he sheepishly replied, "Six years." So yes, I KNEW. So
I'm sure if my dad doesn't die due to poor health and difficulty of
surgery he will now succumb because God is punishing me for phil-
andering. Or for leading the married guy into philandering. Or for,
you know, LETTING him philander. Which I'm sure he NEVER in-
tended to do. That's why he took the ring off. But I digress. I
mean, rationalize.
And of course, the married vendor will get off scott free because he
has probably done this a million times before and I am solely respon-
sible for the sins of the world. Or so I was told last time I posed in a
thong on my blog. So apparently I really AM a slut and a whore. Well
ok then.
I had a date with the phlebotomist from my doctor's office (who is
also a volunteer fireman and so totally not my speed) and I did NOT
sleep with him as I was not remotely attracted to the guy but now I
see the guy every time I go to my Doc's office and he asks me out
again and I don't know a nice way to tell him hey, its just not going to
work out. Umm, guys? Anyone want to respond to this one?
I went to Dallas to see a customer. Still trying to sell her a product
that I can't seem to get any of the plants to make the way I know
she wants it. Very frustrating. It could be so great if I could find
someone to make it.
Ok but back to what I'm avoiding. MONDAY. My dad. I'm at utter-
ly and completely terrified that he isn't going to make it. So I go talk
to my doctor. He says, "Syd, given the complications your dad has,
it really doesn't look like a very good prognosis." So anyway. We'll
spend as much time as we can with him this weekend and hope for
the best.
Oh yeah, and you guys are going to get tired of me saying this, but
all of you smokers? It really will kill you. Young sometimes. My
dad is only 61. His arteries and lungs are shot. If you don't ever
plan to have kids, then whatever. But if you love your kids, you
might want to try to stick around for them.
of the not so shitty stuff. Pay attention. Some of the shitty stuff
is stuff I've done. YEP. Ooo-k. Here we go.
My dad IS going to have to have the bad surgery where they have
to open him up to do the surgery. They are doing it Monday. If
he survives the surgery he will be in the hospital in ICU for a while
and then in the hospital for at least two weeks.
I slept with a MARRIED 28 year old vendor. Very gorgeous and
he did take his ring off so that I wouldn't know he was married.
I was drunk and there was a storm and his room was closer than
my car and he suggested I stay for a while until the storm, you
know, ended. I have actually successfully negotiated this maneu-
ver in the past. But this guy was a cuddler. Oh fuck that. This guy
was horny. And very good with his hands. And an excellent lay.
Beautiful green eyes by the way. And did I mention that although
he took his ring off, I am wise to that particular maneuver so I did
ask sometime during dinner, so hey, how long have you been mar-
ried? And he sheepishly replied, "Six years." So yes, I KNEW. So
I'm sure if my dad doesn't die due to poor health and difficulty of
surgery he will now succumb because God is punishing me for phil-
andering. Or for leading the married guy into philandering. Or for,
you know, LETTING him philander. Which I'm sure he NEVER in-
tended to do. That's why he took the ring off. But I digress. I
mean, rationalize.
And of course, the married vendor will get off scott free because he
has probably done this a million times before and I am solely respon-
sible for the sins of the world. Or so I was told last time I posed in a
thong on my blog. So apparently I really AM a slut and a whore. Well
ok then.
I had a date with the phlebotomist from my doctor's office (who is
also a volunteer fireman and so totally not my speed) and I did NOT
sleep with him as I was not remotely attracted to the guy but now I
see the guy every time I go to my Doc's office and he asks me out
again and I don't know a nice way to tell him hey, its just not going to
work out. Umm, guys? Anyone want to respond to this one?
I went to Dallas to see a customer. Still trying to sell her a product
that I can't seem to get any of the plants to make the way I know
she wants it. Very frustrating. It could be so great if I could find
someone to make it.
Ok but back to what I'm avoiding. MONDAY. My dad. I'm at utter-
ly and completely terrified that he isn't going to make it. So I go talk
to my doctor. He says, "Syd, given the complications your dad has,
it really doesn't look like a very good prognosis." So anyway. We'll
spend as much time as we can with him this weekend and hope for
the best.
Oh yeah, and you guys are going to get tired of me saying this, but
all of you smokers? It really will kill you. Young sometimes. My
dad is only 61. His arteries and lungs are shot. If you don't ever
plan to have kids, then whatever. But if you love your kids, you
might want to try to stick around for them.
Sunday, November 13, 2005
So Get This
My boss keeps telling me that I need to read Machiavelli. Specifi-
cally, The Prince - which is basically a how-to manual on how to
govern (in a very diabolical and twisted way) written by Machia-
velli in the 1500's and probably based on one of the Borgias (an
infamous and corrupt ruling family in that same time period).
(Hey, we're in sales - what can you expect)
Due to this treatment written by Machiavelli, as many of you al-
ready know, I'm sure, when someone is very devious and goes
about getting what they want in a very deviant and underhanded
but successful way, they are frequently called Machiavellian. So
anyway, this has long been a request and topic of conversation as
apparently some of the administration really admire the tactics in
The Prince. I've always pretended like I don't know what they're
talking about, but hello? I was a writing minor and a psych major
so,
Funnily enough, I HAVE read The Prince. In college no less. I final-
ly emailed my boss and said, umm... by the way, Machiavelli never
believed what he wrote in The Prince. In fact, Machiavelli was never
Machiavellian. He wrote The Prince in an attempt (which backfired)
to flatter the Medicis and get them to put him back into political of-
fice. They were not amused to be seen as so cruel and the entire
plan backfired on him. He never did regain political office. His real
works can be seen in in Discourses on Livy. I also reminded him that
the Borgias, upon at least one of whom The Prince was thought to
have been modeled, never DID come to a very good end...
Anyway, both of these two are interesting reading if you are at all
interested in this sort of thing. And... There you have it.
cally, The Prince - which is basically a how-to manual on how to
govern (in a very diabolical and twisted way) written by Machia-
velli in the 1500's and probably based on one of the Borgias (an
infamous and corrupt ruling family in that same time period).
(Hey, we're in sales - what can you expect)
Due to this treatment written by Machiavelli, as many of you al-
ready know, I'm sure, when someone is very devious and goes
about getting what they want in a very deviant and underhanded
but successful way, they are frequently called Machiavellian. So
anyway, this has long been a request and topic of conversation as
apparently some of the administration really admire the tactics in
The Prince. I've always pretended like I don't know what they're
talking about, but hello? I was a writing minor and a psych major
so,
Funnily enough, I HAVE read The Prince. In college no less. I final-
ly emailed my boss and said, umm... by the way, Machiavelli never
believed what he wrote in The Prince. In fact, Machiavelli was never
Machiavellian. He wrote The Prince in an attempt (which backfired)
to flatter the Medicis and get them to put him back into political of-
fice. They were not amused to be seen as so cruel and the entire
plan backfired on him. He never did regain political office. His real
works can be seen in in Discourses on Livy. I also reminded him that
the Borgias, upon at least one of whom The Prince was thought to
have been modeled, never DID come to a very good end...
Anyway, both of these two are interesting reading if you are at all
interested in this sort of thing. And... There you have it.
Saturday, November 12, 2005
Palm Springs
Dylan and I did have a lot of fun in Palm Springs. We didn't get to
stay at the Villa Royale this time though due to our company grow-
ing so much over the past year. This year we stayed at a place
called the Parker. Over the past few months, the Parker has been
completely remade with an Eames era style motif in mind. It's kind
of cool if you like that sort of thing. Kind of grows on you I guess.
Its not really my thing but it was kind of cool for a once in while
visit. Pretty much, I'd thought that the retro thing had already
been kind of done to death but this is an ultra trendy hotel so ap-
parently I'm just, you know, WRONG. Definitely NOT the first or
the last time for THAT.
Oh, and Matthew Perry was there. I think someone in our
group managed to get a picture of him bending over. So basically,
a photo of his ass. I personally try not to fall all over celebrities.
Its this weird pride thing I have where I refuse to to acknowledge
them as more important than other people. Plus, I think they de-
serve to have a private life sometimes too. But anyway.
In any case, the Parker remains a very luxurious hotel with EX-
CELLENT food ( my #1 concern anyway - the FOOD). The
daughter of one of our company's principal's died unexpectedly
shortly prior to the trip, which put kind of a damper on part of the
weekend. And I'm still a little low energy (although I did put in a
good night of drinking last Friday night since Dylan went to bed
early), anyway, Dylan was kind enough to take most of these pho-
tos so that we could share them. If it doesn't bore you too much,
you can check out our vacation photos below:
And last but not least, me, VERY VERY intoxicated.
And no, Dylan didn't take this one, he was already asleep.
stay at the Villa Royale this time though due to our company grow-
ing so much over the past year. This year we stayed at a place
called the Parker. Over the past few months, the Parker has been
completely remade with an Eames era style motif in mind. It's kind
of cool if you like that sort of thing. Kind of grows on you I guess.
Its not really my thing but it was kind of cool for a once in while
visit. Pretty much, I'd thought that the retro thing had already
been kind of done to death but this is an ultra trendy hotel so ap-
parently I'm just, you know, WRONG. Definitely NOT the first or
the last time for THAT.
Oh, and Matthew Perry was there. I think someone in our
group managed to get a picture of him bending over. So basically,
a photo of his ass. I personally try not to fall all over celebrities.
Its this weird pride thing I have where I refuse to to acknowledge
them as more important than other people. Plus, I think they de-
serve to have a private life sometimes too. But anyway.
In any case, the Parker remains a very luxurious hotel with EX-
CELLENT food ( my #1 concern anyway - the FOOD). The
daughter of one of our company's principal's died unexpectedly
shortly prior to the trip, which put kind of a damper on part of the
weekend. And I'm still a little low energy (although I did put in a
good night of drinking last Friday night since Dylan went to bed
early), anyway, Dylan was kind enough to take most of these pho-
tos so that we could share them. If it doesn't bore you too much,
you can check out our vacation photos below:
And last but not least, me, VERY VERY intoxicated.
And no, Dylan didn't take this one, he was already asleep.
Thanks Everyone
For all of the well wishes about my dad. He's spent the weekend
doing tests, and we should know something about how they are
going to proceed on Tuesday when he goes back to the vascular
surgeon. I appreciate all of your kind thoughts very much! :)
doing tests, and we should know something about how they are
going to proceed on Tuesday when he goes back to the vascular
surgeon. I appreciate all of your kind thoughts very much! :)
Wednesday, November 09, 2005
Goings On
So... My dad has been in the hospital and is going to need some type
of surgery for an aneurism of the aorta (just above his kidneys)
sometime within the next week or so. We're waiting on testing to
see whether it will be fixed with a stint or whether he'll have to
have a full blown surgery.
He has a lot of medical problems, mostly related to smoking, that
cause him to be a lot more medically fragile than most so its going
to be rough going. Kind of puts all of the broken toilet issues in per-
spective...
So anyway, Dylan and I are back from Palm Springs and I'll post
some photos from there soon as well. I've just been busy as hell
between my dad and work since I got back from California. That's
about all the new schtuff.
of surgery for an aneurism of the aorta (just above his kidneys)
sometime within the next week or so. We're waiting on testing to
see whether it will be fixed with a stint or whether he'll have to
have a full blown surgery.
He has a lot of medical problems, mostly related to smoking, that
cause him to be a lot more medically fragile than most so its going
to be rough going. Kind of puts all of the broken toilet issues in per-
spective...
So anyway, Dylan and I are back from Palm Springs and I'll post
some photos from there soon as well. I've just been busy as hell
between my dad and work since I got back from California. That's
about all the new schtuff.
Sunday, October 30, 2005
Retraction
Umm... About that Gilbert Godfried thing. I'm watching
"1o0 Scariest Movie Moments" on Bravo and he's one of
the commentators. And I have to say that I don't think
that he's... well, aged in a manner particularly conducive
to my continued desire to...
shall we say, get to KNOW him better. In that way. Just
thought I'd share.
"1o0 Scariest Movie Moments" on Bravo and he's one of
the commentators. And I have to say that I don't think
that he's... well, aged in a manner particularly conducive
to my continued desire to...
shall we say, get to KNOW him better. In that way. Just
thought I'd share.
The Toilet
Is. Still. Fucking. Broken.
Dylan cannot fix it. I cannot fix it. It is Fucked. Up.
I hate it. I am so annoyed that I would actually go out and buy a
new toilet were it not for the fact that I know it would be largely
more difficult to install an entire toilet than it will be to fix this
stupid problem at the top of the tank. And I would get my dad to
come over and fix it but he is working at his Pumpkin Ranch at-
traction thingie through Monday and then he is off to Gulf Shores
for a week. And we are leaving for Palm Springs Thursday.
And I have huge shit coming up at work that I can't really talk
about yet, but I'll fill everybody in when I can. Bizarre shit though
I can say that much. Oh yeah, and I'm supposed to do this sleep
study tomorrow night with these electrodes strapped to my head.
Get this. NOT because they think I have apnea, but because they
want an overnight baseline on how I sleep because of my weird
brain waves. Whatever. On Halloween. Pretty funny.
So life is strange and my toilet is broken but on Thursday I'll be
able to escape from it all to sunny California for a few days. Yep,
that pretty much sums it up.
Dylan cannot fix it. I cannot fix it. It is Fucked. Up.
I hate it. I am so annoyed that I would actually go out and buy a
new toilet were it not for the fact that I know it would be largely
more difficult to install an entire toilet than it will be to fix this
stupid problem at the top of the tank. And I would get my dad to
come over and fix it but he is working at his Pumpkin Ranch at-
traction thingie through Monday and then he is off to Gulf Shores
for a week. And we are leaving for Palm Springs Thursday.
And I have huge shit coming up at work that I can't really talk
about yet, but I'll fill everybody in when I can. Bizarre shit though
I can say that much. Oh yeah, and I'm supposed to do this sleep
study tomorrow night with these electrodes strapped to my head.
Get this. NOT because they think I have apnea, but because they
want an overnight baseline on how I sleep because of my weird
brain waves. Whatever. On Halloween. Pretty funny.
So life is strange and my toilet is broken but on Thursday I'll be
able to escape from it all to sunny California for a few days. Yep,
that pretty much sums it up.
Saturday, October 29, 2005
The Toilet is Broken
So I had to turn off the water because it was leaking and dripping
down the back wall causing water damage to the bottom floor, not
to mention $70 water bills. Dylan was in there trying to fix it to-
night, but apparently was having problems because I heard much
cursing and kicking of objects. I let it go. He came by that honest-
ly. The good news is that what we thought was the house leaking
from the outside may have actually been the toilet. The bad news
is that it is more difficult to fix than we thought. Of course, we
CAN do it. And we COULD call a plumber, but being stubborn, my
son and I, we won't. Why? Because we figure we SHOULD be able
to figure the damn thing out.
Currently, I've sent him to go help my dad with his Pumpkin Ranch
for the night. I have a tiny - emphasis on slight - head cold, which
is just enough to make me feel a little puky but not anything truly
wretched. Thank God. Cuz we all know what a fucking baby I am
when I don't feel good. I think I've demonstrated that for all of you
here before if I'm not mistaken.
Tomorrow I really need to clean the damn house. I mean REALLY.
I know that's my never ending mantra, but we've managed to get a
lot of things done already so it doesn't seem so overwhelming to fi-
nish it tomorrow. And I want to have it clean before we leave for
California. Hopefully we can finish the toilet in the morning. I'm un-
coordinated and clumsy on the best of days and I'm going to break
my neck if I have to keep navigating the stairs to go down to use
Dylan's bathroom when I'm half asleep in the middle of the night.
down the back wall causing water damage to the bottom floor, not
to mention $70 water bills. Dylan was in there trying to fix it to-
night, but apparently was having problems because I heard much
cursing and kicking of objects. I let it go. He came by that honest-
ly. The good news is that what we thought was the house leaking
from the outside may have actually been the toilet. The bad news
is that it is more difficult to fix than we thought. Of course, we
CAN do it. And we COULD call a plumber, but being stubborn, my
son and I, we won't. Why? Because we figure we SHOULD be able
to figure the damn thing out.
Currently, I've sent him to go help my dad with his Pumpkin Ranch
for the night. I have a tiny - emphasis on slight - head cold, which
is just enough to make me feel a little puky but not anything truly
wretched. Thank God. Cuz we all know what a fucking baby I am
when I don't feel good. I think I've demonstrated that for all of you
here before if I'm not mistaken.
Tomorrow I really need to clean the damn house. I mean REALLY.
I know that's my never ending mantra, but we've managed to get a
lot of things done already so it doesn't seem so overwhelming to fi-
nish it tomorrow. And I want to have it clean before we leave for
California. Hopefully we can finish the toilet in the morning. I'm un-
coordinated and clumsy on the best of days and I'm going to break
my neck if I have to keep navigating the stairs to go down to use
Dylan's bathroom when I'm half asleep in the middle of the night.
Palm Springs
My son Dylan and I go on our annual pilgrimage to Palm Springs
this Thursday - Sunday. The head of one of the companies I work
for hosts it every year. I have a feeling though that this year may
be the last year we have it because the company has gotten so big.
Photos of the Villa Royale, a beautiful Inn where we stayed through
last year. Unfortunately due to the size of the company, we have to
move to a larger more impersonal hotel this year.
Musical Chairs is so much more fun on tequila shots.
There will be much boisterousness and drinking and the shoving
of people into swimming pools. And should someone decide to
shove me into a pool, my son will help me not at all. I know this
due to his history of not helping me in the past. Point in case
below, from last year's trip:
Me after being oh so rudely dragged into the pool last
year.
Also, the main partner in the company is permanently annoyed
with me these days. Not just with me really, with all of us, on ac-
count of too much inventory, declining market etc. Last week on
the phone I was called, and I quote, "a crazy schmuck." I further
infuriated him by spontaneously bursting out in laughter as that
is, after all, one of the funnier names I've been called. I plan to in-
corporate it somehow into an aol screenname and IM him with it
next week. You know, before the trip to California. Just to make
things really interesting when I get there.
Actually though, since this is suposed to be a trip where everyone
forgets about business and stays drunk all of the time (except my
son of course - he picks fruit from nearby trees, surreptitiously
slips it the swimming pools and then laughs as all of the drunk peo-
ple, most of whom are not from California and have never seen fruit
growing on trees, wonder how the pools are bringing up limes,
lemons and oranges). Anyway, so they'll have to be nice to me and
actually, once the alchohol takes hold, all of the sins of the past year
are usually forgiven and everyone gets drunk and parties - again,
except my son, who gets to come every year because I brought him
the first year and they found him so amusing they forbade me to go
without him after that - and... there you have it.
Dylan last year, resting between pranks.
Actually, to be quite honest I think they said something about lik-
ing him better than me. Umm, MUCH better. Something to the
effect that his presence is the only thing that makes MY presence
tolerable. Or words to that effect... So anyway, once again, my son
is my one saving grace.
Here are some pretty views from the top of the Tramway in Palm Springs.
Its so high that the temperature actually changes dramatically from the
city of the Palm Springs to the top of the Tramway. It's also really fucking
scary to ride in. There are all of these people crammed into one cable car.
The cable car doesn't really "latch" onto the cable. Instead the little do-
hickey that hooks it onto the cable just kind of sits on top of the cable and
is secured by, get this, "gravity." Yep. And the cable car turns around as
it goes up and down the hill so you kind of have to elbow people out of
your way to get the photos you want. Umm... that part was no problem
for me ;P
this Thursday - Sunday. The head of one of the companies I work
for hosts it every year. I have a feeling though that this year may
be the last year we have it because the company has gotten so big.
Photos of the Villa Royale, a beautiful Inn where we stayed through
last year. Unfortunately due to the size of the company, we have to
move to a larger more impersonal hotel this year.
Musical Chairs is so much more fun on tequila shots.
There will be much boisterousness and drinking and the shoving
of people into swimming pools. And should someone decide to
shove me into a pool, my son will help me not at all. I know this
due to his history of not helping me in the past. Point in case
below, from last year's trip:
Me after being oh so rudely dragged into the pool last
year.
Also, the main partner in the company is permanently annoyed
with me these days. Not just with me really, with all of us, on ac-
count of too much inventory, declining market etc. Last week on
the phone I was called, and I quote, "a crazy schmuck." I further
infuriated him by spontaneously bursting out in laughter as that
is, after all, one of the funnier names I've been called. I plan to in-
corporate it somehow into an aol screenname and IM him with it
next week. You know, before the trip to California. Just to make
things really interesting when I get there.
Actually though, since this is suposed to be a trip where everyone
forgets about business and stays drunk all of the time (except my
son of course - he picks fruit from nearby trees, surreptitiously
slips it the swimming pools and then laughs as all of the drunk peo-
ple, most of whom are not from California and have never seen fruit
growing on trees, wonder how the pools are bringing up limes,
lemons and oranges). Anyway, so they'll have to be nice to me and
actually, once the alchohol takes hold, all of the sins of the past year
are usually forgiven and everyone gets drunk and parties - again,
except my son, who gets to come every year because I brought him
the first year and they found him so amusing they forbade me to go
without him after that - and... there you have it.
Dylan last year, resting between pranks.
Actually, to be quite honest I think they said something about lik-
ing him better than me. Umm, MUCH better. Something to the
effect that his presence is the only thing that makes MY presence
tolerable. Or words to that effect... So anyway, once again, my son
is my one saving grace.
Here are some pretty views from the top of the Tramway in Palm Springs.
Its so high that the temperature actually changes dramatically from the
city of the Palm Springs to the top of the Tramway. It's also really fucking
scary to ride in. There are all of these people crammed into one cable car.
The cable car doesn't really "latch" onto the cable. Instead the little do-
hickey that hooks it onto the cable just kind of sits on top of the cable and
is secured by, get this, "gravity." Yep. And the cable car turns around as
it goes up and down the hill so you kind of have to elbow people out of
your way to get the photos you want. Umm... that part was no problem
for me ;P
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