Wednesday, June 30, 2010

The End Of An Era

Today is my last day at my old job.  And it's really weird.  This isn't like my last day at any other job.  My previous jobs have all had so many bad qualities that I was just itching to leave.  All of my jobs before this either had bad coworkers, poor compensation, idiotic managers, boring duties, or all of the above.  But I genuinely liked my job here.  I didn't have any big problems with anybody I worked with, I was good at what I did, I was allowed to wear headphones while I worked, and they sponsored a lot of fun activities to participate in.  So I'm truly going to miss working here.  And that's a brand new feeling for me.  I'm so used to hating the jobs I leave, that I'm kinda sad now.  And since I'm getting laid off, it's not like it's a personal thing.  I wasn't fired, I didn't quit to do something else (okay, technically I did, but they were laying me off tomorrow anyway).  So it's not even like I can be mad a particular person or event and say that's why I have to leave.

I think tomorrow is when the nervousness of the new job will set in.  I have all these questions that I couldn't ask in the interview. ("Are you guys nice? How many microwaves do you have? Would you consider the majority of the group to be 'dog people' or 'cat people'? Are you cool with me blogging every morning at my desk for about an hour?") So I've got that feeling creeping in too.

So today's a weird day.  I'm not really sure if I can pinpoint how I feel.  But I will say that I don't know how the blogging will be for the next few weeks.  I may not have time to squeeze in a post everyday.  I'll certainly try, but I can't just start doing that the first day on the job at the new company.  And I have a five-day weekend ahead of me.  I'd be surprised if I even remember I have a blog during that time.

Tuesday, June 29, 2010

A Man On A Mission

I said my first truly manly sentence a few days ago.  Here it is out of context: "First, I used my ratchet wrench to disconnect and replace the burned-out EGR valve, and then I reset the engine light by disconnecting the battery."  My voice deepened a little when I finished saying it because of its pure manliness.  I felt like I was channeling the spirit of Chuck Norris.  A few chest hairs may have even sprouted (it's hard to tell).

So the back-story for that sentence started two months ago.  The day after our state inspection sticker expired on our car, the "Check Engine" light came on (of course).  So I took it to get inspected, hoping they would ignore the red warning on my dashboard because I covered it with a picture of my wife.  That didn't fool them, so I failed the inspection.  And they told me I needed to replace a tire.  So I replaced the tire (well, I paid for someone to replace it), then I went to AutoZone to see what the engine light was indicating.  Their engine diagnostic came back with a code for a busted EGR valve.  And luckily for me, the AutoZone guy didn't even know what that was, so I didn't have to pretend I had a clue either.  So after trips to 4 different auto parts stores, I finally found out that it's a part that costs $80 and nobody in the state of Texas knows how to change it without charging you at least $50 for labor.  So after asking every one of my friends and coworkers and searching online for an instruction set, I found out (from the one person I should have asked - my father-in-law) that it's an awkwardly positioned part under the hood that you can replace on your own if you don't care about getting your hands dirty and cutting your knuckles a few times.

So I bought the part, spent two hours in the garage attempting to hold a flashlight with my teeth while positioning a ratchet wrench just right without dropping anything.  But I got it fixed, got the engine light turned off, and passed inspection.  I think if I wasn't such a cheapskate, I would have paid for someone to fix it.  But I couldn't stomach the thought of paying $85 for a tire, $33 for an inspection, $80 for a part, and another $50 for labor.  Not to mention that every place I talked to said they'd have to run a $200 diagnostic on the vehicle first just to verify the findings of the free AutoZone check.

Anyway, now I have an extensive knowledge of everything to do with EGR valves on a 2007 Dodge Grand Caravan Corvette.  I know where it's located, how much it costs, what size bolts are involved, where the power supply is attached, and most importantly I know how to replace it.  Now I think I'll see if I can find out what EGR stands for.

Monday, June 28, 2010

I Was Going To Apply For The NSA, But I Couldn't Find Them

One of the people I spoke to about looking for a job told me not to worry if I didn't find any work for a few months.  I think he was trying to make me feel better about the situation, but it just made me way more worried than I already was.  My family's entire financial plan was resting on the assumption that I would be out of work for a no longer than a month.  So his little warning turned the whole situation into a much scarier one.  But luckily he was wrong.  I was hired by the people I interviewed with last week.  So I start a new job on Tuesday, July 6th!

It's all very exciting, and I think I'll be good at this job.  I wish I could tell you it was a job for the CIA or FBI or something very intriguing like that.  And since this is the internet (and I'm a liar), I can tell you that!  I am now Director of USB Security for the CIA.  My main job will be to interrogate known terrorists to see if they know what USB stands for without looking it up on Google.  And if they know what it stands for, then I'll hire them immediately for our I.T. department.  But really I'll be doing data entry and web-based document loading (which is shockingly similar to the job I just described).

So as it turned out, my last day at my current job was scheduled for Thursday, July 1st.  And the long weekend for both companies includes days off for Friday and Monday because of the holiday weekend.  But what I found out was that if I work any part of July at my old job, I pay for insurance for the entire month.  So my supposedly vacation-infused super paycheck from my old employer will be sliced almost in half by the insurance cut.  Which, needless to say, stinks.  So to change that fact, I made my last day Wednesday, June 30th.  That allows me to keep the $500 or so that they would be taking away for insurance.  And it gives me a nice five-day weekend before starting my new job.  And I was able to put in a letter of resignation instead of getting laid off ("You're not breaking up with me!  I'm breaking up with you!")  So what that means is that I will be unemployed for a total of one day.  I hope my family can make it through that day.  I'll need to take them to the zoo or something to keep their mind off of it.

P.S. - I realize how lucky I am to have found employment so quickly, and I don't want anyone thinking I'm taking this lightly.  I've been very blessed to be able to support my family, and I'm very blessed to be able to continue in that without any real discomfort.  I just thought I'd mention that since the post above is so light-hearted.

Friday, June 25, 2010

Mac Attack

I've made my decision.  After careful consideration and great advice and insight from both sides of the argument, I've settled on getting the MacBook Pro as soon as I have the money.  It pains me to lose the power and size of the iMac, but I can't argue with the portability.  But I've also decided on a compromise.  I've decided that I want both of them now too.  So as soon as I purchase the MacBook, I'll start saving for the iMac.  And as a side note, donations are welcomed (just kidding - I'll accept them, but they won't be welcomed).

Now I know what you're thinking.  You're thinking, "He doesn't know what I'm thinking!"  But you're wrong.  Also, you're probably thinking what I'm afraid most people will think; that I'm a pretentious Apple addict who has no real reason to get these things except his juvenile desire to have a cool new toy that lights up.  And in this case, you're probably right.  But I'm really afraid that people will visit my house and see my MacBook, my iPhone, my iMac, my Blu-ray player and my other gadgets and assume that I'm one of those people.  (you know... a yuppie).  But it's not true!  The only one of those things that I paid for was the iPhone and only because it was half price!  And I don't want people to think I'm like that.  The real reason I have stuff like that is because I'm too cheap to buy it!  If anything, I want people to think, "Wow, Taylor has a full head of hair!"  But that's not likely, so I'll settle for, "Wow Taylor's really frugal.  Look at all the cool stuff he didn't have to pay for!"

Thursday, June 24, 2010

Don't Think About Flatulence!

So yesterday was my first interview since learning I was being laid off (hence the lack of a new blog post yesterday).  And no matter how prepared I am for an interview or how qualified I think I am, I always get ridiculously nervous before I go in.  And yesterday was no exception.  I was sitting there in my car about 10 minutes before the interview and my stomach felt like it does when I eat burritos I buy at gas stations.  It was like food poisoning on an empty stomach.  And I tried to reason my way through it.  I was qualified, I was well-read on the company, I was dressed appropriately, I was wearing enough deodorant, I didn't have any boogers, and my breath was fresh.  So logically, I had no reason to be nervous.  But that familiar panicky feeling was still there.  And it was almost unbearable.

But I think I figured out what causes it.  Because every few minutes in the interview, I had to struggle not to make a joke.  And it truly was a struggle.  They asked me what my weaknesses were, and I had to fight off the urge to say, "Kryptonite."  And they asked what my greatest professional accomplishment was, and I had to push away the thought of saying, "I passed four donut shops on the way here this morning, and I didn't stop at any of them."

So the reason I think I get so nervous is because I'm afraid I'll "pull a Taylor" and just start cracking jokes.  And a job interview is number 2 on the list of places to be careful with jokes (number 1 is a funeral - trust me, I speak from experience on that one).

I made a couple of jokes, but nothing too over-the-top.  In fact, I wouldn't even call them jokes.  It was more like banter.  So I made a couple of banters, but nothing too over-the-top (maybe I don't understand the word "banter").  Also, the thing I'm most proud of is the fact that I didn't think about, talk about, or demonstrate anything to do with farting.  Because that's kind of a dealbreaker.  If I talk about it or demonstrate it, that's obviously a big deal.  But if I think about it, I just start giggling like a little girl.  And no one wants to hire a little girl who laughs at flatulence humor.  There are laws against that sort of thing.

Tuesday, June 22, 2010

There Were Only Three Members Of Ben Folds Five

People are always asking me, "Taylor, what's the secret to your astounding success?"  And I always answer, "Well, clown-hobo/shark-man in the dream I've having, it all boils down to influence.  If you can get people to do what you want, you're golden.  Like that statue of a turtle I just saw."  And although I was unconscious when I dreamt that I said it, I really believe that.  Because the only reason I'm so well-liked and just plain awesome is my ability to persuade people to do stuff.  How else could you explain someone as pretty as my wife marrying me?  That's right, you can't.

Here are my anecdotal (and therefore clearly indisputable) examples.  For starters, I am the main reason anyone watches The Office.  The Office didn't have a following until I told every person I knew that they needed to "give it three episodes before you write it off."  The third episode was the Health Care episode and it changed everyone's mind. ("I thought you were inventing diseases.  That's Spontaneous Dento-Hydroplosion.") I humbly take all the credit for that one.  Example number 2... I convinced my wife that we needed a minivan Corvette.  It's practical, has tons of space, and gets great gas mileage.  And two days before we bought one, she said she would never buy one.  Example number 3... butter is better than margarine.  Okay, that one isn't as good an example, but if you heard the whole story, you'd understand how it fits.

So to sum up, I couldn't think of anything to blog today, so I just started typing.  (Or maybe I planned this all along and now I'm convincing you that it was spontaneous!)

P.S. - I just re-read this post, and I come off like a massive tool.  Oh well, I'll post it anyway!

Monday, June 21, 2010

Lost On Me

Someone please explain this.  They give me two weeks' notice and tell me that there's not enough work to go around and they have to let me go.  Then after a few days they extend me a week.  Then after a week they extend me another week.  Then, they tell me that in order to finish all the work I have left to do, they're going to approve some overtime for me.  So at the same time there is both a) not enough work to continue my employment and b) so much work that I need 50 hours of work to complete it.

Maybe I'm just not a business genius like the managers at my company are, but I saw an episode of LOST in its second season without seeing any previous episodes.  And that made more sense than my work situation right now.  It's impossible to have so much work that you need overtime but not enough work to justify employment.  And when you add in the fact that I have no motivation to destroy myself to get the work done, their plan seems even stupider.

I think I'll go take a 20-minute coffee break and think this thing over.

Friday, June 18, 2010

"Wait 'Til I Get Going! Where Was I?"

I have a laptop fund that I've been building for six months now.  And it's almost entirely comprised of survey money and eBay profits.  Most of it comes in Amazon gift card code format, so I just add it to my account.  And what I've done with the non-Amazon money is convert it into Amazon money by purchasing gift cards with whatever I make.  I've put a stop to that for the time being because I can't afford to be putting real money into Amazon when I'm about to be out of work.  But I'm still inching ever closer to my goal of a 15-inch MacBook Pro.

But yesterday I realized something.  The proverbial wrench in my proverbial gears.  The 27-inch iMac is cheaper than the MacBook Pro that I want.  And it's faster.  And it has a bigger hard drive.  And it has a (much) bigger screen.  And it has better graphics.  So the smart-shopper/patient-saver in me say, "Why don't you just get the bigger, better, awesomer computer for less money, stupid?!"  But the main reason I wanted a laptop was for the portability.  A laptop would go anywhere.  We could rent a redbox movie and watch it in bed.  We could update our coupon spreadsheet Facebook profile in the front seat of our minivan Corvette.  I can stream America's Funniest Home Videos in my recliner while my wife watches Glee (or whatever soul-stealing musical program is available on live TV).  And we could do none of that stuff with an iMac.

The words of the Dread Pirate Roberts keep echoing in my mind. ("We are at an impasse.") I don't feel like I'd be making a smart decision by paying extra for the portability by giving up the strength of the iMac.  But the whole point of getting a laptop computer was that I could use it on the top of my lap.  Then there's the argument that it's not money I'm spending out of pocket, so I'm not making a bad financial decision by picking the laptop.  (Clearly, I have a dizzying intellect.)

Thursday, June 17, 2010

Crash Course

Yesterday, I saw a left-turn light turn yellow when I was coming up to it.  And it was one of those times where you're not sure if you can make it so you go anyway and count on the fact that the people who get the next green light aren't gonna hit you since they have to wait a second before it turns green.  So really, I was counting on their not being a cop in the vicinity.  What I didn't count on was that the guy in front of me would come to a complete stop as soon as it turned yellow.  He had a good 5 seconds of time he could have gone before breaking any laws.

So I slammed into the back of him.  Okay, not really.  But it was pretty close.  My Grand Caravan Corvette screeched to a halt about 6 inches from his bumper.  And I'll take my part of the blame for that.  I should have been paying better attention to the car in front of me than the light in front of him.  But this guy was a horrible driver.  I got stuck behind him for another half-mile after the light finally turned green.  And he was going about 10 under the speed limit and looked like he could barely understand how a vehicle worked.  I'm pretty sure my son would drive better.

There seem to be a lot of bad drivers in my area.  And I found out last night that I'm one of them.  I was helping my wife figure out what to play on Words with Friends on her iPhone at a red light.  The light turned green, so I went.  And because I wasn't really looking, I inadvertently went when the light next to me turned green.  So I almost hit a guy turning in front of me.

So to sum up, I thought that the idiot in front of me was an idiot.  Then I was the idiot later in the day.  Lesson learned.

Tuesday, June 15, 2010

What's My Motivation?

So my last day at this job is the 24th.  The amount of work I have left to do for the project I'm on is enough to keep me busy for every second of every work day until the 24th.  But whether I finish it all or not, I'm out of a job by that date.  And I have a lot of stuff to do to find another job.  So my dilemma now is deciding how much work to get done if I'm only marginally impressing a soon-to-be-former employer.

I'm an honest person, so I'm not gonna cheat my company out of time and money because of sour grapes.  But I don't feel like they have any pressure to apply to me if I'm working myself out of a job.  This is a tough one for me.  I'm really torn between doing an okay job while not stressing out my last two weeks and doing a stellar job while being mentally drained during my last two weeks.

Also, it's my wife's birthday.  So that's the most pressing issue at the moment.  She hasn't decided where we're eating tonight.  I really hope it's somewhere good.  I consider this our last hurrah before the job thing gets really scary.

Monday, June 14, 2010

Will Blog For Food

It's tough finding a new job.  I don't feel like my resume really tells people what they need to know.  But I can't include on my resume anything that says, "Okay, listen.  I'm really smart, and I'll learn anything you want me to learn.  And I'll learn it really fast."  But that's what it boils down to.  I wish that instead of a resume, I could send out PowerPoint presentations with embedded videos.  That would work a lot better than a sheet of paper with my work responsibilities on it.  Anyone who's looking for a new employee could see a video of me balancing a broom on my chin, and they'd hire me immediately.

And don't get me wrong.  I have a rockin' resume.  It's concise, organized, and aesthetically pleasing.  But it's hard to summarize why I'm so cool when all I have to work with are bullet points.  You gotta experience my awesomeness (and obvious humility) to really understand it.

Also, I think that whoever named them "recruiters" made a mistake. I would be more inclined to call them "false hope givers." Because once they receive your resume, they sound very optimistic. ("Don't worry, we'll find you something soon.") And they never stop sounding optimistic, even when they're sending you an email that says you didn't get the job. It's like they're saying, "It's okay, the glass is half-full. It's half-full of expired milk, but it's half-full. Also, it's not your glass."

Thursday, June 10, 2010

Is There A Manly Fairy?

Knowing you're in your last days at a job is very liberating.  I don't have the pressure of trying to impress anyone anymore.  And there are limited repercussions for a slower performance.  My employer knows I'm searching for a new job and since I'm being laid off, they're very understanding of that process.  So there's a considerable drop in the amount of work I'm expected to do now.  And that's kinda nice.

The downside is that I'm having to fight off a lot of impulses that I've never had before.  I've found myself wanting to sit down in the elevator just to see what people will do.  And I really want to start passing out my leftover office supplies like a giant Supply Fairy (or the manly equivalent of a fairy).  And as I was walking down the hall a few minutes ago, I was only barely able to stop myself from pulling the fire alarm.  It was a little scary when I consider how close I actually came to doing it.  Only two things stopped me: 1) no matter how upset I am about being laid off, my coworkers don't deserve that and 2) I don't want to walk down four flights of stairs and go outside (it hit 93 degrees today).

But the one bold thing I allowed myself to do was talk back to the big boss that I'm scared of.  He said something in our weekly meeting yesterday that I happened to know was incorrect.  So for the first time ever, I spoke up and told him the way it really was.  I wasn't rude (I'm not crazy), but I made my points clear and made a suggestion for how to proceed.  The (slightly) good news is that my suggestion included extending my position for a week, and he agreed to it.  So my job is still over this month, but now I'm being laid off on the 25th instead of the 18th.  Go me.

Tuesday, June 8, 2010

Bloggin' Won't Pay The Bills

Like the other thousands of people in this country, I have joined the ranks of the unemployed.  I was given my notice today and my last day at work is a week from this Friday.  And I'm not exactly sure how I feel about it.  I mean, it's nothing personal.  My soon-to-be former employer is not doing so well as a company, and the task I've been assigned to for two years is wrapping up.  So it's not an issue of my performance, and it's not a huge shock.  But it's definitely scary.  And very nerve-racking.

When they called me in, I had to sit in a chair in a hallway.  And it only faced a wall.  So it felt like I was being sent to the principal's office.  I really think they should redesign the H.R. department here.  That doesn't make any sense to make people feel like they're in trouble when they're obviously there so you can lay them off.

I think the one thing I'm feeling most is frustration.  I know I do a good job, and I know there's nothing I could have done to change it.  But, that's a very helpless feeling.  (And no offense to my coworkers, but there's one really dumb girl who is still in our department.  And that's only because she's on a more secure project at the moment.  That kinda sucks.)

Anyway, I'm in pre-panic mode right now and I'm calling on my internet friends to help me if you can.  I'm willing to move (preferably not out of Texas), and I'm trainable.  If you know of something, please email me at  It forwards to my personal email and I can respond to you there with my resume and stuff.

The Soup Of Destiny

A coworker who sat near me got moved to another office a couple of months ago.  And when she was organizing her desk, she found a Campbell's microwaveable chicken noodle soup in her cabinet.  She didn't want it, so she gave it to me.  And on various occasions I've been tempted to save my homemade lunch for a day and have a smaller, lighter lunch by enjoying the free soup.  But I've always decided against it.  I've either not been in the mood for chicken noodle soup, or my lunch from home is too tempting because it's leftovers from my wife's amazing cooking (10 husband points earned for that sentence).

But then, today something unusual happened.  I forgot my leftovers at home, which is not like me at all (I'm a fatty).  I was in a rush because I was a little late, and I've been a little sick lately, so I was a little out of it.  Then I got to work this morning and realized I had nothing to eat.  And that's when I saw the soup.

Now I'm not really into the idea of fate, but it seems like it was meant to be.  I refrained from eating it so many times over the past two months, and the one day I forget my lunch just happens to be the day that I'm sick enough to really want chicken noodle soup.  Just thinking about that weird coincidence gives me the chills.  And my body kinda aches.  And my throat hurts.  Now that I think about it, fate kinda feels like the flu.

Monday, June 7, 2010

To The Point

I believe that having well-groomed nails and facial hair is important.  I don't want to look like a slob or a vagrant.  So I make sure there's not a weird hair sticking out of my mutton-chop sideburns (just kidding, my wife has perma-vetoed the mutton-chops).  And I don't have a single nail that's even a fraction too long.  It's just the right thing to do.

So a few weeks ago, I took a softball throw to the tip of my finger.  I jammed it pretty bad, and the nail bruised almost black.  Well, now the nail has grown out for the most part and the bruise is limited to the very tip of my finger.  This gives the illusion that there is a disgusting amount of dirt caked under the end of my nail.  And it's the index finger on my right hand.  So every time I point at something, everyone sees it. But it's not a big enough injury for me to need explaining since it's just a bruise on my finger.  And I can't leave it out there forever so they can get a good look.  You can only point for so long without it being weird.  So I just look like I have dirty nails.

The only solution I have is to point with my left hand.  But I only seem to remember that after I've shown my dirty nail bruise.  The only options I have left are nail polish (which isn't happening), and a band-aid over the nail (which will make people wonder what disgusting wart-like protuberance I'm hiding).  So I'm stuck with people thinking I'm gross.

Friday, June 4, 2010

I Got You On Tape, Mister!

The best part about catching my son messing with our digital camcorder is the fact that there's video evidence of his misdeeds. I picked up our Kodak Zi8 last week and saw that the battery was almost dead and there was no space left on the memory card.  So I looked at the last video that was recorded.  And it was an hour and 4 minutes long.  I didn't watch the whole thing, but I fast-forwarded through most of it.  The last 63 minutes of it was just a high-definition video of the ceiling in our bedroom, with a final image of my son just before he turned it off.  But the first minute was Andrew filming various things in the room and then throwing the camera to the floor.  And just before he left the frame, I heard him yell, "I didn't do it!"  Then I heard him run out of the room.

I found the camera again last night in a weird place (in other words, a place my wife would not have left the camera).  And this time it was a 19-second video of Andrew jumping on the bed, throwing the camera to the ground, and then pouncing on it like a jungle cat.  In fact, it looked like one of those nature videos where they attach a camera to some poor animal and watch it as it fights and destroys and eats, like all those shows on the Discovery Channel (and a lot like most MTV reality shows).

So I deleted the hour-long video since it was boring.  But I kept the 19-second video.  I'm going to consider it his first nature documentary.

P.S. - I'm trying out this new thing called "Amazon Associates" with Blogger.  I'm able to link directly to products in my posts.  I thought that was pretty cool, but I hadn't had a reason to do so until today when I realized I'd be mentioning the Kodak Zi8 that I own.  So below, you can find a link to the camera (as well as two other cool things).  It's actually a really nice HD video camera, and it's on sale again for less than $150, when it used to be $220.  And as evidenced by my post, it's relatively childproof, has a long battery life, and is able to withstand a daily dose of being thrown around.  Okay, I sound like a bad commercial now.  Peace out.

Thursday, June 3, 2010

Three Is The New Two

I think I know why they call them the "Terrible Twos." It's not because that's a horrible age. It's actually a cruel conspiracy so you'll let your guard down when three comes around. Three makes two look easy. Three makes two look like you were raising a nanopet for two years. The terror begins the moment you think to yourself, "That wasn't so bad. The two wasn't so terrible. Maybe we're just better-than-average parents." It's the kind of cruel irony that echoes in your life for a year. In fact, they should call it the "Therrible Threes" or whatever synonym there is for "terrible" that starts with "th."

My son is not a bad kid. He's well-behaved when he's in public (given that he's not exhausted or something like that). He's generally polite and obedient and helpful. And he's as cute as a button. But some of the stuff he does at home is astonishing. It defies logic. Because he knows the outcome before he even starts. He seems no less terrified of the consequences than when he's acting right, but it doesn't stop him. He will tell you exactly what will happen to him if he throws the toy that he's winding up with. He even whimpers or cries a little out of fear. But he throws it nonetheless. And then he has a surprised look on his face as soon as it's airborne. It's almost as if he can't help it. I mean, he knows the punishment is coming. But for that instant of defiance, he pushes that realization aside just long enough to do something stupid.

A few years ago, I watched a video called "Bill Cosby, Himself." It is still the single funniest thing I've ever seen. I heard him talk about raising kids and being a kid and all that kind of stuff. And I understood the jokes at the time, even without the experiences of parenthood. But now that I've seen what he was talking about in person in my home, it's gone past funny into uncanny. Every time Andrew ignores his brain for a minute and does something ridiculous, I want to yell, "Well, that's the brain damage!" And the part about smacking the older child just so the younger one will be quiet... I get that now! ("Because parents are not interested in justice! They just want peace... and quiet!")

I've said this before, and I'll say it again. It's a good thing my kids are cute. There's no telling what our lives would be like if I had ugly kids.

Wednesday, June 2, 2010

Is This A Glitch In The Matrix Or Have I Said This Before?

I'm really bad about telling the same stories over and over again. Most of my friends will just react as if they've never heard it. Most of my family will just politely stop me and remind me that I've already told them about my diving catch in left field in fourth grade. But my older brother will pretend he's never heard the story and then nonchalantly predict what happens next. He almost had me convinced he was psychic one time because he knew every twist in my elaborate story. Then I realized he'd heard it so I changed it up to make him look like an idiot.

And now I'm thinking I may have already blogged about this. I have trouble remembering. So if I've already said this on here, sorry. Just play along.

And what's weird is that the opposite is kinda true, too. Sometimes, I won't tell a story or a joke because I simply assume I've already told it. Sorta like a false deja vu. There's no telling how many stories and jokes my friends have missed out on because I thought they already knew them.

P.S. - The reason my posts are so short nowadays is because I'm afraid of spending too much time blogging at work. They lay people off around here a lot and now is not a good time to stick my neck out. But to make it sound cooler (and not lame), I'm gonna call it "guerrilla blogging."

Tuesday, June 1, 2010

A Tale Of Two Tables

My wife decided she wanted to buy her Granny's table. So we bought it. And we put it in our breakfast area. I asked her what we were gonna do with our old table. She said we'd just move it to the dining room. So we moved it. Our breakfast area and our dining room are adjacent and not separated by a wall. So now we have two tables. And they're essentially in the same room.

This is how I know that I'm not the one running my house. And neither is my friend Logic. If I had suggested buying a second table without getting rid of the first in order to increase our breakfast capacity to ten, I would have been laughed at. But apparently, if it belonged to Granny, it's a magical piece of furniture that defies logic and reason.

And I'm not in charge, so it doesn't matter what I think. Which is good, because I think it's stupid.