My life is a total mess right now.
I have a job that I really enjoy, in the city that I love.
Unfortunately, my wife lives and work in a different city, one that is about 500 miles away. I also own a house that will not sell in said faraway city. This makes my nice job and lovely city irrelevant.
I feel like I should be enjoying getting what I have always wanted. Instead I am wondering if the price is too high.
This post is dedicated to Amber, who expects a lot from people.
Happy Festivus from elbuzzard.com to you and yours and theirs.
This morning I did some reflecting and investigating into what Xmas is all about. Here’s what I came up with:
After I finish working today, I will forcibly make Xmas be about:
Merry Xmas, people.
Here’s the latest x-ray from my doctor’s appointment this morning, where you can see the pins and buttons and such:
I was concerned by the fact that the fibula still has a giant gap in it, but the doctor wasn’t concerned. I don’t think the fibula matters to doctors. It matters to me, though. I hate the way it doesn’t line up there in the right-hand image. Gives me the heebie-jeebies.
I’m on crutches two more weeks, then I can start walking on it in the boot.
This picture was taken on August 29, 2005:
It is a perfect example of why I didn’t vote for the guy on the left.
Where were you on August 29, 2005?
Thanks to Humid City for pointing out the picture, on today, this day of days.
Last night, I went downstairs to feed the birds, and found that Louise had somehow died.
Louise was a good bird. She never quite had the spunk of Harry, but she was steadying force in our bird cage. She was a good bird. She didn’t want to die, and we didn’t want her to go.
Truth be told, Chelsey and I grew to really hate those birds. They were loud and messy, and loud some more. But now that we have lost one of them, I feel horrible. I feel horrible because something I was supposed to take care of has died. And I feel horrible because I know how lonely Harry is going to be now.
If love means never having to say you are sorry, then pet ownership should mean never having to bury your bird in the middle of the night behind your garage.
At the greatest game the Saints have ever played, my mom, Dave, and I had the best seats in the Superdome: the very last row. Like everyone else up in that last row, we beat the hell out of the wall behind us, so much that my hand was sore and swollen for days.
Today I read this, from the New Orleans blog Library Chronicles:
Over my many years of watching and attending Saints games, I’ve been accustomed to seeing or hearing fans in the top row of each section bang on the metal walls in order to create noise when the opposing team has the ball. When we purchased our season tickets in 2006, we selected seats in the top row so that we could participate in this time-honored bit of idiocy which has been in practice basically since the Superdome opened in 1975. During the second quarter of a crucial Monday Night game in 2008, Superdome security decided that it was time to crack down.
A few minutes into the second quarter, for no apparent reason, a uniformed security person shouted at everyone in our section that the next fan seen banging on the wall would be thrown out of the stadium. We were mystified. Is this some bizarre interpretation of the NFL’s notorious new “Fan Code of Conduct”? The section adjacent to ours is typically filled with fans of the visiting team. Did one of the Vikings fans complain? If so, why? And also fuck them. Over the past three seasons, the Superdome has become an ever-more fan-unfriendly environment. What can be done to reverse this trend?
Seriously? That is just terrible. Why on earth would the Superdome security shut down such a great, fun, masochistic homefield advantage?
Also, like me, Library Chronicles, is a strong supporter of the Saints’ correct gold pants.
Also:
He looks like someone here, but I can’t place it. Ralphie after he shoots his eye out maybe?
Apparently not.
We had a big thunderstorm on Saturday afternoon, and one of our trees in the backyard fell down on our fence and into the neighbor’s yard. We didn’t even notice until Sunday morning.
Click the image for more photos.
In my job I leave a lot of messages for real estate agents and it is more and more common for me to hear this greeting:
“Hello, this is Agent-I-suck-at-my-job, I am unable to answer the phone at this time, please leave a message and I will get back to you at my earliest convenience.”
Your earliest convenience? Seriously? Do you realize what that means exactly? It means that your clients and peers hear that you’ll deal with their issue when you feel like getting around to it, not ASAP as you think it sounds.
I’m putting this post under ‘Overrated’ because so many people thinks this phrase sounds slick, but really they sound like idiots.
Jeremy Shockey! is a Saint. It hurts, but this should be a huge help for the Saints on offense. Marques Colston will improve with another legitmate passing option for Brees, and the running game will also benefit. I hope.
Or he could be a complete turd. Check that. I’m sure he will be a turd. I just hope he’s not a cancer.
I do promise that I will throw up a little when I see the fleur de lis over that hideous ‘MERIKA ROOLZ tattoo.