Saturday, June 30, 2007

Some Days It Just Doesn't Pay...

In the span of two work days last week, I decided I need, perhaps, more sleep at night. In the course of my work, I sometimes need to copy documents or maps. I often utilize the local Kinko's for this task. Some of the maps I copy are in spiral bound books that are easy to copy. Easy to miss when one leaves the store (this bit of information is important later).

Anyway, I work with my dad and had to stop at his house one morning because the collar of my polo shirt really did need ironing. Yes, I sometimes wear polo shirts. Not that often because I typically do not like them. Yet I was wearing one and it was looking horrid.

SO, I fired up mom's iron and found a little spray starch and wala! Work ready!

The next day I was back at dad's and we were on a phone call when his cell began to ring. LOUD.LOUD.RINGS.

So dad looks at me nods his head and points to the phone. Not having mastered the art of reading body language (and being short on sleep), I interpreted his movements to mean:
"Hey, that ring is annoying. I can't hear a damn thing over here. Go on over there and take care it will you?"

So I went and shut of the cell phone in mid-ring.


OOOOPS.

Turns out dad really meant:
"Hey, can't you see I'm busy here? Geez, I've only got two hands and I am kinda in the middle of a phone call. Go answer that and see who it is and maybe take a message."

After dad informed me of my error he went on to enumurate another failing that had recently occurred. It seems mom came home the day before and found someone had used her iron. She knew this because it had been left on all day. That would be over 8 hours of potential burn time.

OOOOPS.

Then dad gives me a packet that needs to go to a specialist to copy and all I need to do (besides deliver the package) is to copy one of my maps out of one of my books and include it in the package. So I go home and realize I no longer have said book of maps. The next morning, I drive back to dad's (1 hour, 1 one way) and ransack his house and it's not there. But he has the same book of maps so the trip was not wasted. I take the package and drop it off and decide, "What the hell. I'm already out and about, let's go check Kinko's."

The store is only 10 minutes from my house. And the book of maps is there. That means I just wasted over 21/2 hours of my day in drive time alone.

Man, is it after 7pm already? I need to go to bed.

Thursday, June 28, 2007

A House is a House is a Split Level...

My elder brother and I have recently had several disagreements. This one is one that I can actually post (I could actually post the others but they would include more people than I care to eventually apologise to).

Wife.Imp and the fam and I live in a split-level house. It is a very nice house with lots of shade, big yard and a quiet street. Yet the very nature of this type of construction makes it difficult to entertain (no I am not talking about wild, swinging, key (sic: wife) swapping parties).

We found out long ago that if we have a tadoo at our house that people will either go up or down upon entering (no other choice really) and then stay in that general area the rest of the evening. Meanwhile we have to run up and down all night.

Not a lot of fun really.

So what was the argument with my brother? He is in denial about the construction style of his house. It also is a split-level home. You enter the front door and make a decision that will stick with you for the remainder of the visit. Go up or go down?

To him, this is not a split but it is instead a 'Raised Ranch'.

Well Hell! Pardon my dumb, redneck ass! A 'Raised Ranch?'

Of course I did not say this. Instead I came out with the old standard: A rose by any other name...

He did not seem to like that analogy. However, I did not back down. Not one bit.

That is my story and I am sticking to it!

Wednesday, June 27, 2007

Been Running

So Dennis, here you go on vacation for 2 weeks and then you leave an odd post or two and then...what?

Weeeeeeell, I found out that I can single-handedly stop my computer from being able to connect to the internet. I also found out that correcting the problem is a 5-hour process. BUT I am back online and looking forward to a marginally improved presence here and there (I might not be commenting on all your sites, but I am reading...)

So what is new?

Wife.Imp's car has a problem where the a/c only runs well while the car is moving at speed.
Diana, got any suggestions before I drop $$$ with the local swind...mechanic??


wife.imp started another job--very similar to what she was doing but with more room for advancement. I am planning my early retirement where I travel the world and scuba dive!!!

Or I'll just keep going to work and stare down those bills (bills mind you. not loans) that have dogged my ass since college!

Speaking of which, I have my 20th high school reunion this year. (clapclapclap, Yea me!) We recently received a list of names for classmates that have disappeared. After reading the list I informed wife.imp that I really did not need/want to see any of those listed. Am I just being mean?

I have also realized that the imps need to hear an apology from us...after all, it is becoming clearer and clearer that the mess around here is not of their making...

Saturday, June 23, 2007

House Keeping

We would like to upgrade our house in the near/distant future. Actually our initial intent was to have already upgraded (the 3-year plan has become the 8-year plan). In the first 3 years after we moved here, I completed many, many projects. In order to get the house in shape to sell, I will have to correct my mistakes as well as those of the former owners.

I do not want to keep working on the house. My dad finds it relaxing to tear into the plumbing and electrical guts of his house. My older brother finds peace of mind in upgrading his home's internal wiring, etc...

I tend to cuss. Loudly and often. Mind you, I can replumb, lay tile, paint, lay floor etc...(I categorically refuse to do any electric work). I cuss and drive back and forth to Home Depot. Even the most simple job can involve multiple trips. So now I have to paint, tear out and rebuild walls, hang/lay tile and change light fixtures. And that is only one bathroom.

I am not looking forward to this. If I were not married, I would probably chuck all this and move into an efficiency apartment.

Fair warning to anyone out there still living in apartments, the Mortgage is merely the TIP of the iceberg!!

Wednesday, June 20, 2007

Playground Hostage Situation

The day we left home to visit the In-Laws, I could never have dreamed that I would find myself in the middle of a hostage situation. I remember that in Ohio the temperature was going to be near 88 F. After landing in Manila, I soon learned that 88 F was a temperature that came and went early in the a.m.

And if the heat did not get to you, the relentless high humidity would. Wife.imp is fond of stating that the Philippines two seasons; hot, humid and dry or hot, humid and wet. Unfortunately the rains never showed, which means it went from hot to hotter (Mr. President, have we reviewed the Kyoto Accords recently??).

It really should not have surprised me that I would end up as a hostage but when I got up that morning, I was blissfully ignorant. After cranking down the temp on the air conditioner, I decided it was time to venture from the room and track down a glass of water.

Water? Heat? Kyoto Accords? Dennis you promised us a tale involving hostages...

And here it is. As soon as I stepped out of the frosty air of the room, I was abducted by my body's fat. Think its impossible? So did I. Up and until the heat wave rolled up and over me and the continued health of my heart and arteries were threatened.

Fat: Woe! Woe! Woe! What the hell is all this heat? No! No! No! We are not going to be happy here. Ok boys, shut 'em down!
Me: Oh god! What just happened?
Fat: Hey, we did not want to do this but there is no other way. Just do what you are told and nobody has to get hurt.
Me: What are you talking about? Why are you doing this?
Fat: Why? Why are we doing this? It was nice and cool in that room. WE were happy in that room. WE wanted to stay there! But did you listen? Did you express any concern to our feelings or well being when you decided to enter this inferno? No! You just HAD to go for a walk! You brought this onto yourself, not US!
Me: Come on! Be reasonable about this. So it's a little warm...
Fat: It's MORE than a 'little warm' bub!
Me: Yeah, it is hot enough to fry an egg, or to boil...
Fat: Don't go there! Do not even THINK about going there!
Me: Look, I don't want to be out here any more than you do...
Fat: Yet here we are. Standing, not moving...You ever hear about a thing called Heart Failure? It's a nasty, painful business. WE can make it happen. JUST.LIKE. THAT. Shut 'em down boys!
Me: Hey, you don't have to do this! Listen to me! We can work something out!!
Fat: Yes. All that you have to do is move slowly back into the air conditioned room!
Me: Ok, Ok, Look! I'm moving back--Man it is hot! I could use a glass of water.
Fat: Water? Cold water?
Me: Yes, a nice frosty glass of cold water!
Fat: mmm, water. Yes, water will be ok. But after that right back to the air-conditioned room! No tricks! Don't even think about stalling! Oh, and don't forget to grab one of those doughnuts on your way!

Saturday, June 16, 2007

I'm All Poo'ed Out

I cannot remember the last time I had a nice, satisfying, solid poo. Ok, first let me say that after my computer crashed, the fam went to the Philippines. Today we returned. It's been almost two weeks and still no solid poo.

I do have to add that with almost 2 weeks of explosive, fluid draining poo, stomach cramps (turns out there was this infection thing going on in the lower abdomen) and liquid meals (with crackers), I have managed to not only reign in my expanding waistline, but to lose a large portion of it.

I believe it started at a beach. Actually it was a coral reef about an hour boat ride from a beach located in Bohol, to be precise. Not that the good folks at the resort have asked me for a precise accounting.

To be perfectly honest about the resort staff, I cannot point the 'Finger of Blame' at them, their food or anyone but me. The resort itself was located in a beautiful region and was very well managed.
If it were possible to describe the reddish-orange fires that bled softly across the horizons as the sun dipped 'into' the sea or the pinkish blossoms of fire that announced the imminent arrival of the Yellow Daystar, then I would try.

However lacking this ability to fuse memory with words, I will merely stress that this is a great resort!

(bear with this slight bend in the road)
I am not now, nor have I ever been, a fan of diet foods or food diets. I hunger, I eat. I do acknowledge (now) that a certain restraint in my diet should be executed. Since restraint was not know in my earlier dietary habits and excercise is such a slow way to go, I needed an edge--something that might give me a boost.

I might have mentioned Bohol is near this amazing reef. We went snorkling at this reef. This reef ends at a very steep precipice. There was an amazing abundance of life and color in and around this reef that bled out into a gray green over the precipice and just out of reach a Sea Turtle decided to cruise the area. It gracefully glided over the edge of the precipice for almost 20 minutes, just to prove that it could ignore us.

How cool is that!

'Ummm, dennis? The reef sounds interesting and so interesting we'd like to hire a boat (ask for the oweners of the John Michael) and visit the reef ourselves. But how does this magical interlude about heaven on Earth connect with Rizal's Revenge??

Rizal's Revenge, gentle readers? Do not tell me that you have never heard of Jose Rizal? In fact, I have so much respect for this man and what he accomplished that I withdrawel the moniker Rizal's Revenge in favor of TFMR (the Filipino Monezeuma's Revenge).

Yes, while snorkling I imbibed 1/2 a boatful of seawater and soon thereafter began suffering from what we hillbillies call 'The Green Apple Quickstep'.