Monday, 26 March 2012

 Today was the worst day of the year. So far.

Since I don’t feel like reliving all the details via a lengthy blog post, I’ll just offer the highlights by way of short words and phrases:

 Chills. Fever. Weak. Leaft work early. Dizzy. Headache. Bad headache. Went to bed. Went to ER. Vomited. Waiting. Laying on the floor. Other people grossing me out.

They asked if I had a religious preference…? Um…no. I hate them all.

Hospital gown. Nose probe. IV. Blood samples. X-ray. Lights too bright. Lots of saline. Lots of drugs. Three prescriptions. Went to pharmacist.

Tuesday, 27 March 2012

 Today was the second worst day.

I actually felt decent this morning. Weak, with a mild headache. But much better. I went to class…but that was it. That wiped me out. By noon, my headache was bad again. I took more drugs. This evening, I was lousy.  I went to bed early – Owen’s bed, actually – because Jennifer didn’t want me laying in bed loaded with meds since she thought I might roll over on Isla. I don’t think I would have, since I never really fell asleep.

Wednesday, 28 March 2012

Today was the third worst day.

Again, I started off okay, but within hours of waking up, my headache returned. My neck and back still hurt from last weekend, so Jennifer gave the number to our chiropractor. Thankfully, she was able to see me at 2:15 this afternoon.

That was the best 45 minutes of my day.

My headached and neck felt much better after that, but I still had a tough evening. I went to bed early again. This time, I actually fell asleep.

Thursday, 29 March 2012

This was the fourth worst day.

I went to class this morning. Then to work. I was dizzy all day; especially whenever I moved my head. My throat began hurting pretty bad, making me cringe whenever I swallowed.

By the time I got home this evening, I had the chills again – they flared up all of the sudden right as I walked in the front door. I huddled on the La-z-boy with a blanket and bathrobe for a while. Around 7:00, I started feeling okay. Owen and I watched the rest of a silent film we had started last weekend. I went to bed shortly after that. Fell asleep pretty quick this time.

Sunday, 25 March 2012

 Today, I once again conducted an interview on Athiests Talk radio show on AM950.

I interviewed John Rawles, author of the book The Matter With Us. John wanted to go from a script that he wrote…which was fine with me, because that made it pretty easy. Unfortunately, it wasn’t quite as personable as the last time I conducted an interview, but I guess we were talking about a deeper subject, so maybe that was fitting.

Owen again came along to provide moral support. We stopped at Caribou on the way and bought tea (for me) and hot cocoa (for him). During the show, he played chess on the computer.

The podcast (of the interview, not the chess game) will be available soon at the link above.

In other news, I submitted an excerpt from my forthcoming essay “Losing My Head,” which will appear in Atheist Voices of Minnesota this August – to Jehovah’s Witness Blog. So CLICK HERE if you want to read an excerpt from my essay. Looks like the site’s proprietors plan to give out two free copies of the book to their readers, so I guess if you check back in August, you can see how to win a copy. I’m sure that’s good news to you, because after years of reading my words for free on this blog, you probably cringe at the thought of having to buy them.

Thursday, 22 March 2012

This evening, I began preparing our bedroom so that we could paint it tomorrow. Now, when I say “we,” I pretty much just mean Jennifer, as she is the superior painter and is very particular about how the job is done. I’m lucky if I get to tape the molding.

Living in this new place has really given me an appreciation for a good paint job. The prior owner did a poor job. You can’t tell right away, but as we’ve been living here, I’ve noticed some things.

It appears that, in many places, he didn’t even bother to tape. There are splashes and entire swathes of paint on molding in various rooms. In other places, he did tape, but he then left the tape on the molding. He also didn’t bother to sand the walls that well prior to painting, so in some spots there are bumps and ridges that he painted right over.

The good side of this half-assedness, however, is that just about anything we do here is an improvement. So, tomorrow we my wife will paint our bedroom walls. This will mark the first time – ever – that we’ve she’s painted all the walls in any bedroom we’ve ever had.

Friday, 23 March 2012

Besides taking Owen to school and keeping Isla out of Jennifer’s hair today, my biggest job was moving our bed.

We sleep in a king-sized behemoth made out of wood. The end tables are attached to the bed, and we have an extra cushion-y top on the mattress. All of this adds to the weight.

I lightened the load somewhat by first removing the mattress. This in itself is quite the task; the problem being more one of awkwardness rather than weight. I then tried to remove the end tables, but they are attached from behind, so I still had to pull the bed out about a foot from the wall in order to get back there.

Anyway, I finally succeeded. I pulled my back out in the process, so now it feels like there’s a knife on my right side, just above my pelvis.

Saturday, 24 March 2012

This morning, Owen and I participated in another Build and Grow session at Lowe’s. My friend Eric and his two sons joined us again.

This was a great opportunity for me to point out to Eric that I now have the superior refrigerator. Allow me to explain.

When Jennifer and I were at Eric’s home for a New Year’s Eve party, I noticed that he and his wife had the same refrigerator that we do. I noticed the filter cartridge on the bottom of their appliance lacked the plastic cover. Eric immediately noted that this caused him and his wife great frustration as, when they moved into their new place earlier in the year, they set about replacing the filter. Opening up the instructions, they noted that step one called for pressing the button on the plastic cover. They looked everywhere and couldn’t find the button. After, like, a half hour, they realized their fridge was missing that part.

I then made some sarcastic, cocky comment (I know, it’s hard to imagine) about our fridge -identical in every other way – being superior to theirs by virtue of having an in-tact plastic cover.

“No,” my wife corrected me (I know, it’s hard to imagine). She then explained that the ice dispenser does not work on our fridge, thereby rendering Eric’s fridge superior.

Well, yesterday, as Jennifer busily painted the bedroom, an appliance technician came to our home and replaced the fried-out part. Though my wallet hated replacing such a spendy part, my ego was happy, as it proved the problem was beyond my ability to repair and, thus, a technician was required.

Anyway, our fridge is better than Eric’s now. I pointed that out to him a couple of times, and told him we would have his family over this summer so they can look upon the greatness that is our kitchen appliance.

 

Tuesday, 20 March 2012

Today I toured Imagine! Print Solutions in Shakopee. Here’s a video about the place (watch the first three or four minutes at least, there’s some unexpected, quiky humor in there):

Anyway, after the tour, a co-worker and I stopped for lunch. The restaurant had TVs suspended from the ceiling and CNN was playing (I hate restaurants with TVs!).

When I glanced at the screen, I saw some footage of Rick Santorum. Suppressing the urge to vomit, I asked my co-worker if he had yet decided on how he planned to cast his vote for president this fall.

He repeated something he’d said to me once before: though he’s a lifelong Republican, he’s probably gonna vote for Obama.

Last time he said this, we were moments away from commencing a meeting a work. But this afternoon, there was no such event to get in our way. So I dug a little deeper.

Turns out, my co-worker is unimpressed with any of the main contenders for the Republican nomination. That’s no shock…but it also doesn’t mean that he has to vote for Obama. He could choose not to vote. Or he could vote a candidate who is affiliated with neither the Republican nor the Democratic party.

My co-worker explained that, though he did not vote for Obama in 2008, he has been impressed with the fact that Obama openly changes his mind.

Now, in today’s political climate, I think that’s really saying something. Most candidates continually bloviate  about how wonderful they are for not changing their mind. Ever. The example that came to my mind while speaking with my co-worker was the Grover Norquist Pledge. My co-worker noted that, conversely, Obama stated during his campaign that he intended to close Guantanamo Bay but has since revised his stance.

He said his biggest issue with Obama is his healthcare reform. Two things in particular that he did not like:

1) The Democratic-controlled Congress rammed it through. My co-worker admitted that Republicans would – and have – done the same thing with their pet projects. But regardless of the party…he doesn’t like that behavior.

2) It’s just not the right time. Overall, he likes the reform per se, but felt giving it a priority during a sagging economy was not the most prudent course of action.

All in all, I found it a fascinating conversation. I am not engaged or well-read enough in the political field to analyze this fully, but in my limited time taking an interest in the government, I just couldn’t find anything to argue about here. And that’s great. I also think it speaks to the lack of viable options that someone who voted for Bush/Cheney in 2004 and Palin/McCain in 2008is now throwing his hat in the Obama ring.

Wednesday, 21 March 2012

Yesterday, while waiting for the above-mentioned tour to begin, I mentioned to this lady from my job (for some reason – I think I was trying to make a joke – I know, why else?) that I am left-handed. The co-worker standing to my left (how appropriate) said the he, likewise, was a lefty. Meanwhile, the co-worker I had originally been joking with, said she was glad to have a couple of lefties to talk to. As she said this, another guy got into our conversation and said that he, also, is left-handed. This made the lady positively beam with delight that she had the attention of three left-handed people.

She explained that she is not left-handed. We offered our condolences.

She next said that her young daughter is left-handed and that she’s worried that her child writes from right to left. “Is that a problem?” she asked.

Of course, being a group of smart-asses, we noted that it’s not a problem assuming her daughter is Chinese or Jewish. But then we gave some light-hearted examples of doing things “backwards” so that they work for us. One of the guys suggested the girl is simply trying to mirror her right-handed mom.

I asked how old her daughter was. Hearing the reply, I asked if she started Kindergarten yet. “No,” my north-pawed co-worker said, “not yet.” I then, with no qualifications whatsoever, bestowed upon her daughter a clean bill of mental and motor-skills health.

But later, I felt bad we hadn’t offered her more help, or at least been more serious. So this morning, I sent her an email saying, in part:

Don’t worry about your daughter writing right-to-left: CLICK HERE!

This, at least, gave a serious response from someone who’s thought about the matter for more than 30 seconds while waiting in the lobby of a printing firm in Scott County.

My co-worker responded with gratitude and we exchanged some more emails on the topic.

Anyway, it appears her daughter will, in fact, be just fine. Meanwhile, maybe I should bone up on my sinister qualities. I am asked about them frequently.

Friday, 16 March 2012

I stopped at Northern Brewer on my way home from work today.

Two friends emailed me an e-flyer from the brew supply proprietor advertising their 15% off beer kits sale. So, I figured my friends were concerned that I wasn’t producing enough beer.

I carried two beer kits up to the counter. The man behind the counter rang up my sale, and I stupidly didn’t say, “Don’t forget to give me the 15% off.” I know that sounds silly, but I always remind cashiers to give me a discount price or use the coupon I just handed them. When I was younger, I just assumed cashiers knew to use coupons or special offers that were being advertised. Turns out, they often forget. I think they get so used to the routine of doing things, that they don’t stop to think about the additional step of applying the discount.

I am, however, simultaneously aware of the fact that handing someone a coupon, then reminding them to use it can come across as a tad condescending. So I’ve been a bit more clandestine about it lately: while making the purchase, I try to mentally calculate the total and then, when the cashier reveals the exact total, I decide if it seems plausible or not.

But today I was distractedly talking to the cashier about some yeast I have at home. This caused the dual problem of him forgetting to give me the 15% off, and me forgetting to note if the price seemed correct.

When he handed me the receipt, I noticed there was no discount listed. So I asked if he gave me the discount. He didn’t. He said he’d have to refund the sale and ring it again.

But then he swiped my card for a second time, and his computer locked the sale because they have this safety procedure in place that prevents the same card from being used twice within ten minutes. This is a great idea because, as everyone knows, only criminals use credit cards twice in ten minutes at the same store. Duh!

Anyway, this very competent employee kindly asked if I had another card to use. No, I didn’t. So then he politely asked if I wouldn’t mind “hanging out” for a few minutes. In return, he offered me 20% off on everything (not just the kits).

So I did. There are worse things in life than having to hang out at a brew supply store for 5 minutes.

Saturday, 17 March 2012

Tonight Owen and I lugged out the old telescope. Or, rather, I lugged it out and hooked it up to the tripod and the scanner and removed the cover and inserted the best lens and scanned the night sky and focused the eyepiece while Owen stood nearby and asked a novemdecillion questions.

Jupiter was out in full glory this evening. Despite living in a light flooded city that was partying to the hilt paying tribute to some Irish bloke, we managed to zoom in on the gas giant and check out its colorful banding. We also spied three of the Galilean satellites. Of course, they don’t show up as anything more than points of light and – due to their busy dance around Jupiter – I did not know which three they were; but it’s still cool to be able to see them. I view them as nature’s way of saying “fuck you” to the Pope. But to Owen, I just said, “Did you know humans didn’t even know those satellites existed until 400 years ago?”

Regardless, I was pleased to see that Owen seems capable of enjoying sky viewing now. In past years, he seemed incapable of looking through a telescope without touching it (a definite non-no!), and even if I held his hands behind his back, he couldn’t seem to look straight down into the eyepiece. This is important because any parallax greatly obscures the view.

We also checked out Venus, which is probably the most boring planet you could hope to look at through a telescope (no red color, no satellites, no rings). Owen thought it was funny that, even though Jupiter and Venus appeared so close, our own planet actually orbits in between them.

Sunday, 18 March 2012

Local bar and grill Shamrock’s had a helluva brouhaha going on yesterday. A large tent erected in their parking lot on Friday (and barely visible from our windows) testified to the coming St. Patty’s Day revelries. Yesterday featured cars parked up and down every street in the neighborhood, and people with green spray-painted hair and gaudy necklaces walking the sidewalks. The live music kicked off sometime in the afternoon and continued until 11:00PM.

This morning, while I was outside making improvements on the yard, two people walked by with trash bags.

“Good morning,” they said, “how are you doing today?”

I said I was fine, but I wasn’t very friendly about it. They continued picking up trash and then the guy asked if the noise bothered me last night.

Yes, of course it bothered me. I don’t want to hear anything, ever, unless I choose to hear it. In fact, I wish I had eyelids on my ears so I could close my ears whenever I wanted. No – wait – I wish I could only hear if I had special “hearing aids” in my ears that I could remove at will, such as anytime there’s a commercial on or whenever I go to bed.

But, in an effort to try something new,  I didn’t want to come off as a complete jackass. So I just said, “It was fine once the music stopped at 11:00.”

Then I thanked him and the lady that was accompanying him for picking up the trash.

I thought about going inside and playing a U2 CD, but I didn’t feel like any noise.

Monday, 19 March 2012

Today, my wife and daughter met up with me for lunch. We decided to eat at El Rodeo, due more to its convenience than anything else. I had lunch there once before – with a group of co-workers about three years ago – and I recalled it being pretty decent.

Well, that memory was wrong.

Feeling a little adventurous, my wife and I both requested iced tea. The waiter brought the beverage to us, then quickly whisked away. Jennifer noted that the iced tea was weak – so weak, in fact, that it just tasted like flavored water. Mine was the same way. When the waiter came over to take our order, this conversation ensued:

JENNIFER: This iced tea tastes really weak.

WAITER: Okay.

JENNIFER: I don’t want it.

WAITER: Okay.

JENNIFER: Well I’m not gonna pay for it.

ME: Yeah, mine doesn’t taste right either. Is there maybe a problem with the dispenser?

WAITER: Okay. Well can I take your order?

We ordered and, as the quasi-competent waiter was walking away, I said, “And bring us a couple waters, too.”

Wow,  compared to the incident at Northern Brewer (see above), this waiter should get a different job. I mean, he could have said sorry. And he could have offered to try again, since, yes, sometimes the dispenser line needs to be cleared. Or, if that wasn’t the case, he could have suggested substitutes. Instead, his incompetence put me in a bad frame of mind for the rest of the meal. He also lost out on giving me a higher bill which, in theory, should’ve yielded him a higher tip.

Our food came soon after, and neither my wife nor I could distinguish between the burrito and the enchilada. And I don’t think they use cheese in their meals. My guess is they use Velveeta, which looks like melted plastic and tastes worse than soap (and, yes – I DO know what soap tastes like). The food tasted so bad, my wife had to bolt to the bathroom where she hung out for a few minutes in case anything was ready to come back up. She told me she was ready to say to anyone who entered the bathroom: “No, I’m not bulimic, the food is just that bad.”

Also – when we first sat down at the table, there were four settings of silverware. The hostess removed two of them, leaving us with only two settings (because 4 – 2 = 2). This meant that, while eating, Jennifer had to get up and steal a set of silverware from a nearby table because there were three of us, goddammit. And yes, the total number of people at our table was exactly three, not – as the hostess said upon our arrival – two and a half.

Anyway, when I got up to pay, I asked the hostess if there was a discount from my employer (because tons of places in town have a discount for my place of work). She laughed and said she didn’t know.

You know what else they didn’t know? How to get our repeat business.

Anyway, I saved on the tip.