Useless Clutter

Where's the $@#% Is the Poop!?

2010-07-22T12:45:00.002-04:00

I have always tried to be careful to watch my language around the children, and it now imperative to do so with both of them repeating the things they hear people say. Once, after dropping a cup of milk, I let the c-word slip and moments later heard Kara let loose a string of "Cwap! Cwap, cwap, cwap!"s. Not long after that Nathan started giggling and repeating his sister. Soon both kids were laughing hysterically and belting out the hilarious new word that they didn't even know the meaning of. I bit my tongue to keep from laughing as well and explained as calmly as I could that we don't use that word and Daddy shouldn't have said it. Luckily, I've not heard them say the forbidden word since then, but I was close to using it (or worse) this morning while looking for the very thing the term refers to.

Looking for a turd is part of our regular morning routine around here, as it would typically be contained in a diaper. Or sometimes the poop actually makes it into the potty, as we are currently working on with Kara. Toilet training has gone pretty well except for going No. 2, at which time she runs and hides. If I can find her and get her on the potty quickly enough, all is fine and dandy. If not, she usually pops out and asks to have her diaper changed. However, when she told me that she pooped and I felt her diaper, it didn't seem that anything was in it. I checked to be sure, and sure enough there were faint traces of fecal matter but no actual poo to be found.

I led her to the potty and encouraged her to finish her business there. Then I started to ponder the situation. We have had one or two instances before when the excreted bowel movement had escaped form our daughter's training pants, and I then began to worry about where it could've gotten to. The skid mark was sort of near the edge of her Pull-Ups, so it seemed possible that we had a potential refugee hiding out in our living room somewhere.

Let me say that I searched high and low for that poop. I pulled out all the toys out of the bins, checked and doubled checked every, single, possible hiding spot downstairs, and moved every piece of furniture, in case it had rolled out of sight behind or under something, all the while sniffing as deeply as I could inhale through my nose. Still, I could not find the wayward feces in question.

After almost 20 minutes of searching with nothing to show for it while my children watched me in confused wonder, I gave up and decided that Kara must have started going and instead decided to not finish pushing and instead saved it for the potty, just as we have been talking about. I am fairly confident that is what happened, anyway. After all, I couldn't find any traces of the missing poop, either visual or olfactory, and she actually did put some in the toilet.

Still, I can't help but wonder if one day, when we are moving and packing up our belongings, we'll find a mysterious, shriveled-up, little brown stone that maybe has a slight odor to it. We'll wonder about it is for a little while before remembering the missing poop and getting nostalgic for the time when our daughter was just a toddler learning to use the toilet on her own. Then we'll quickly drop what would then be pretty much be a coprolite in the trash and promptly wash our hands.

An Innocent Moment in Time...To Be Shared Again Later

2010-07-07T09:28:00.015-04:00

The other night, not long before bedtime, Kara took one of her Pull-Ups and put it on her head. She looked at me with a big smile and said, "I'm a princess!" She then proceeded to run up and down the hallway from the upstairs loft to her room.

I was just barely able to document the aforementioned silliness in a photo before she paused and took the training pants off her noggin. Still, I think I captured enough of the moment to properly embarrass her when we show the picture to her prom date in about 15 years.

The First Half Mile

2010-07-06T12:45:00.011-04:00

I don't know that I've ever gotten a runner's high. Maybe I've never gone far enough for the endorphins to really kick in, even though I've been running 3-plus miles for my regular outings and am debating ramping my weekend training to include a long run. Going that distance doesn't seem to be much of an issue now, and I love the point that feels like you can just run forever (maybe that is the endorphins, after all). It's the starting out is still the biggest obstacle I seem to face.

Once I get passed the first half mile, I feel like I could keep going long after I had planned to stop. But before I get to that point, I feel as though every step along that 2,640 feet could be my last for that particular run and continuing on seems like an almost dizzying prospect. After that would-be final footfall, I wouldn't even bother walking home. Instead, I'd collapse in a hyperventilating pile of exhaustion or curl up in a little ball and wait for rescue, especially in the hot and humid weather that has been plaguing my runs lately.

OK, I admit that is bit of an exaggeration, however, the thought of cutting things short does enter my mind more than a few times in that period. My legs are still tight, as I often have a bad habit of not warming up properly and just want to get out and run; my lungs are a little achy, and I sometimes still get that a small hint of that stitch in my side trying to convince me that I am still too out of shape to go much longer.

In that first half mile of almost every run, I have to fight to keep going, telling myself that it will get better if I keep going. I have yet to regret pushing passed that mental block. Even though I end up hot, sweaty, and a little smelly, I never wish I hadn't gone out for a run or kept going when I could've gone home early.

Still, I can't help but wonder if this is a hurdle I'll always have as a runner. Although I am still pretty much a novice, I am not a complete newbie. I ran fairly regularly back in college and off and on throughout my adult life. More importantly, I have been keeping up with it better than ever now that I am in my mid-thirties. When I was younger, it was always the end of a route that I was dreading; it was that last half mile that seemed the longest, as though it would take me hours to finally get to cool down and go home. Now, it is the complete opposite. I find myself longing for the days when starting out was easy and finishing was the hard part. That just seems to make more sense, anyway.

On the other hand, I really like that the last half mile no longer seems like any distance at all. In fact, once I get to even the last mile, it feels like I'm almost home and if I wanted to I could even go another half mile or more.

(I'd be lying, though, if I said that I was ever unhappy I stopped instead of actually going that extra mile. I figure it's best to stop when I still feel good about the run, than going until I really do collapse in a pile of exhaustion. But maybe that's just me.)

Getting Out and About Shouldn't Be So Expensive

2010-05-14T09:46:00.002-04:00

The line between necessity and luxury often seems to blur when you have small children. It gets to be hard to distinguish between something that would just make life more meaningful or just simply a little more easy or convenient. For instance, you wouldn't think it would be expensive to be able to take two small children out for a jog or a bike ride, but boy howdy it can be.

Frema and I have been considering a jogging stroller, which can vary greatly in price. A double model would allow me to go for a run during the day or also would able either parent to give the other a break when going for a jog. Moreover, it would make coordinating running schedules for both parents much easier, and not leave Frema to decide between going for a run after work or spending more time with the children before their bedtime. On the other hand, I recently got my bike back, just in time for riding weather, and I'd also love to be able to take the kids for a ride during the day in one of those hitch-on trailers. I could also take the kids to a park without packing them up in the car, as the community we live in has a great system of greenways that connect the town parks.

An option that would be like having two mints in one seems like the way to go in this matter, a product that could be both a jogging stroller and a bike trailer. We actually have a double stroller that had been a lifesaver over the past year, enabling me to run errands and take the kids for walks while Frema was out winning the household bread. Moreover, Nathan went through a phase where a long walk was about the only way he would nap, so I would often take two a day with the kids in the stroller as long as the weather permitted.

Sadly, though only a little more than a year old, the double stroller's life seems to have all but run its course. It has always been awkward and bulky, only usable on relatively flat, smooth surfaces, but it is also showing quite a bit of wear. It is still basically usable though a bit shaky. But it no longer folds up completely, as the clasp that holds it closed is broken. Also, Nathan, being the bruiser he is, tore off the cup holder bar in the back. It was actually coming off anyway, but he is the one that finally put it out of its misery and removed the bar from its hinges.

So it would seem something more rugged would be in order, if we were to replace what we have. But the operative word there is "if." After mentioning the ordeal to a friend, he offered a pretty good deal on a used bike trailer that also could convert into a stroller with an optional part. However, after looking at reviews online, while it was a good trailer, it didn't function well as a jogging stroller for most users. So I decided to look around to see what was out there that could both fit in the budget and serve the purpose we need it to. And I found this product: Charriot Carrier Cougar (specifically the Cougar 2, which is the double model).

I never thought that I would find baby gear to be "cool," but I have to admit I do and have not wanted much else this badly in a long time, except for maybe a new digital camera. Not only would it traverse various terrains much more easily and provide a smoother ride for the children, but it would provide protection from the sun and the elements when needed. Our current double stroller only does the former and not very well at that.

Unfortunately, there is not funding in the budget for the Cougar 2, or even the next model down, the Cheetah 2. The budget is already weighed down by the summer's impending travel plans, which include a relatively inexpensive weekend trip our anniversary and to see Frema's sister in Chicago when she returns for a short visit home from Germany. As such, the good deal we could've got on the used trailer isn't even in the budget.

So as I get more back into running once again and Frema carries on with her distance training, we'll just have to switch off on days who gets out for a run. No matter how useful something might be, if it's not food, water, shelter or something legally required like a car seat, when there's not money for it it's a luxury and not a necessity. And thankfully, there's definitely funds in the budget for all of those things, otherwise we'd have much bigger problems than being able to go for a job whenever we wanted.

Adventures in Eating

2010-04-26T10:54:00.001-04:00

More than four years ago, I attempted to eat a one-pound hamburger in a food challenge at Bub's Burgers and Ice Cream up in the northern Indy 'burb of Carmel and came close to finishing with only a few bites left. The feat in question was to devour the Big Ugly, and to be clear the burger actually more than a single pound . The patty alone is a pound, and the bun by itself is a small loaf of bread. Plus, you also have to eat any toppings you request, which are optional.

For awhile I thought off and on about trying it again, until we moved about an hour away from Bub's. Then last winter, I started watching the cable TV show Man v. Food, which involves the host taking on sometimes ridiculous food challenges, like eating a 72-ounce of steak in an hour for example. Still, the show renewed my interest in the notion of defeating the Big Ugly and perhaps taking on other feats in the Indianapolis metropolitan area.

My mistake during my first attempt at an eating challenge was adding toppings. Ordering lettuce, tomato, onion, and pickles on a burger that size is somewhat like having a side salad dumped on top of the patty. My excuse at that time was that I had enjoyed my meal up to the point I decided to stop, so I should swallow my pride and not any more of the burger. I knew if I were to try it again, I'd forgo the optional toppings and just eat the burger.

Since that first try, we not only moved farther away but had two children, so Frema and I have not been back to Bub's, even just to eat normal-sized sandwiches, though we agree they are some of the best burgers in the metro area. I had been thinking about trying again and wondering if I could've indeed eaten the rest of the Big Ugly or not. Finally as part of a late-birthday outing, Frema and I returned to the eatery a few months for me to regain my honor and take down the beefy foe.

We were seated relatively quickly at a table in the middle of the restaurant, where we had a good view of the photos of previous Big Ugly champions have their pictures on the wall. Some of them were holding two empty platters up (one guy even had three!), which I still can't decide or not was encouraging or discouraging in my own quest for Bub's fame and glory. Needless to say, I did eat the burger and was not as full as I thought I'd be, though I admit that had a pretty light dinner of a half bowl of cereal.

That was back in February, but this past weekend I went with a friend who wanted to see if he could get his picture on the wall and also to see if I could find my own picture posted somewhere in the eatery. He ordered the Big Ugly, including cheese and some other toppings, and I stuck to the Not So Ugly half-pounder patty. While we were waiting a gentleman seated behind my amigo devoured his own large burger in what couldn't have been more than five minutes.

My friend had little trouble finishing off the Big Ugly and even had one of my onion rings. I didn't even eat the last few bites of bun and tomato of my own burger. But then there was nothing at stake this time around. It took some searching, but I did find my picture, which was almost falling off the wall. I pushed it back into place with hopefully enough force to keep it stuck there until the end of the year when Bub's takes all the photos down to begin again.

But now I am left thinking about my next competitor. Sadly, there's only two other food challenges I could find in the area. I'm not sure I want to take on a large amount of food again, especially one such as The Big 29 at Barlo's Pizza. Eating a 29-inch pizza by yourself in two hours just does not seem possible, however, I am fairly certain that I can eat 16 habanero hot wings without a beverage at Wings Etc. to make it onto their Wall of Flame.

(Though I'm not so worried about getting them down, I admit I'm a little worried about what they might do to me passed that point...)

100 Dreams to be Managed

2009-11-09T20:12:00.083-05:00

Well, it's now half passed November, and this is only my third time blogging. As such as, I think I can hardly call myself a blogger anymore. But let's not make this an un-post about my non-blogging times or a catching-up-with-Luke entry. Frema actually gave me "homework" one day when I was talking about starting up with this little hobby again.

As part of a leadership exercise at work, she had been reading The Dream Manager and was inspired to write out her list o' dreams. After completing her own, she encouraged me to type out my own agenda of life goals. That was almost a month ago, and I have long since missed the assigned deadline. But it's not a bad idea to have an idea of things you'd like to accomplish over time and who you want to be, whether it's that day, within a few months, or just sometime in your lifetime. (Please note that some of mine and Frema's may coincide, but it isn't because I cheated on the assignment. Also note that the following list is in no particular order other than that which I thought it up in.)

1. Write and illustrate a children's book.
2. Write the Great American Novel.
3. Write more period, whether it's something intended for publication or just on this here blog.
4. Learn to scuba dive.
5. Learn to paint.
6. Earn a graduate degree in something more interesting than my choice of bachelor's in communications.
7. Visit all 50 states.
8. Have my picture taken at the four farthest points of the contiguous 48. North: Northwest Angle in Angle Township, MN; South: Ballest Key near Key West, FL; East: West Quoddy Head in Maine, and West: Cape Alava in Washington.
9. Go swimming in each of the Great Lakes. (One down: Lake Michigan, so only four to go. I'm not counting the times I stuck my hand in the water at Lake Ontario and Lake Huron when Frema and I were on our way back from Niagara Falls.)

10. Raise happy, healthy children.
11. See the Grand Canyon, other than through an airplane window.
12. Become an expert cook in the realm of breakfast cuisine.
13. Use those skills when I own and operate a bed and breakfast.
14. Be the kind of runner who can hold a regular conversation while jogging and not sound winded.
15. Learn to ski. Or maybe snowboard. One of the two, at least.
16. Have a pint in a real Irish pub.
17. Be known to others as someone who never has a bad word to say about anyone.
18. Tour Napa Valley, though not in the style of Sideways.
19. Go on a walkabout in Australia.
20. Take a drive down at least a portion of Route 66.
21. Teach my children to swim before they reach kindergarten.
22. Finally finish reading the Lord of the Rings trilogy, which I first started reading way back when I was in seventh grade.
23. Tour southeastern England and Wales, looking for my suspected family roots.
24. Have another photo chosen for a Jones Soda label and this time find a bottle with the label on it.
25. Go hiking in Hawai'i Volcanoes National Park and see a live volcano up close and personal.
26. See the redwoods in California and drive a car through one of the ones that had a tunnel dug through it.
27. Learn to sail a boat.
28. Find buried treasure.
29. Roast my own coffee, which would of course be served in the aforementioned bed and breakfast.
30. Travel to the Outer Banks, seeing various sites, especially Teach's Hole off of Ocracoke, the spot of Blackbeard's storied demise.
31. Dance with my daughter at her wedding (if she chooses to get married, that is).
32. Learn to dance long before then.
33. Take my kids on a bike ride around the perimeter of Mackinac Island. When we went there in June 2007, I had to go by myself, as Frema was pregnant with Kara.

34. Own a really fancy camera and learn how to use all the functions on it.
35. Visit New Orleans again, this time during Mardi Gras.
36. Tour New England in the fall.
37. Kayak around Pictured Rocks National Lakeshore.
38. Go running at least times a week as long as I'm able.
39. Return to work in a meaningful career.
40. Live near a large body of water, if not near the ocean then at least by one of the Great Lakes. 41. Figure out how to get children to eat their vegetables.
42. Take gourmet cooking classes.
43. Find a balance between living green and living comfortably.
44. Go on a foodie vacation, visiting spots highlighted in Man v. Food.
45. Get a decent night's sleep sometime soon.
46. Enroll in whitewater kayaking classes (either at Otter Bar Lodge or a reputable outfitter in the Summersville, WV, area, where we went rafting a few years back).
47. Go whitewater rafting at least a few more times before the children are old enough to go, too.
48. Take a whitewater rafting trip with the whole family.

49. Win a chili cook off.
50. Take the family on a trip to Disney World.
51. Vote in every presidential election that occurs while I'm living.
52. Be one of those people who can efficiently shop sales and use coupons so they pay around a nickel for a cart full of groceries.
53. Have a large, open, well-lit kitchen with an island and a double oven.
54. See the Aurora Borealis in person.
55. Go camping in Michigan's Upper Peninsula.
56. Spend the whole winter someplace warm.
57. Win a 5k.
58. Return to Rocky Mountain National Park with the family and have our picture taken at 2.3 miles above sea level. (This time getting there when the sun would be on the right side for picture taking.)
59. Climb a mountain (which doesn't even have to be a big one, just big enough to still count as a mountain—I mostly drove up the one that I am standing on in the above picture).
60. Take my son out for a beer when he's of age.
61. Tour the Maker's Mark distillery and dip my own keepsake bottle of bourbon in wax.
62. Visit old friends and my extended family more often.
63. Make more new friends as well.
64. Take the kids to Pokagon State Park for the toboggan run.
65. Go on a whale watching tour.
66. Swim with stingrays like on that one cruise commercial.
67. Build a new home—not by hand, with a developer or architect.
68. Take the kids to the Vermont Teddy Bear factory, where they can make their own teddy bears. (Yes, I know they could do that at Build-A-Bear, too.)
69. Be a good parent, even when my kids think I'm not being cool.
70. Ride in a hot air balloon.
71. Learn to fly a plane.
72. Travel to Seattle to take in as much coffee and music as possible. (This one is a holdover from my college days.)
73. Finish reading Don Quixote.
74. Read all those Hemingway novels I've been meaning to get around to. (So far, I've read The Old Man and the Sea and started The Sun Also Rises.)
75. Take an Alaskan cruise.
76. See penguins in their natural habitat. (Yes, I know that this is not really related to 75, as penguins live in the Southern Hemisphere, though it doesn't have to be Antarctica to see penguins in nature; they make it up to southern parts of South America, Africa, Australia, and various islands, too.)
77. Host Thanksgiving dinner for both sides of the family.
78. See Pearl Jam in concert again.
79. Pack up the kids for a trip without forgetting anything.
80. Brew my own beer.
81. Never get another speeding ticket.
82. Get my picture on the wall at Bub's Burgers and Ice Cream by finishing the Big Ugly in one sitting.
83. Make a pizza from scratch. (I already make the dough, but I want to add the sauce to my repertoire. Though I don't think I'll go as far as making the cheese myself.)
84. Go on a photo safari in Africa.
85. Swim with the manatees in Florida, like I had planned to do in 2007 before we scaled back our vacation from the Sunshine State to much closer Michigan.
86. Reread Moby Dick.
87. Visit Cape Cod, Nantucket, Martha's Vineyard, and Block Island, though not necessarily all in the same trip.
88. Take a mid-week trip to Nashville, Indiana, in the fall.
89. Spend the night in the haunted Story Inn.
90. Build a birdhouse for our backyard.
91. Get a snazzy grill and host a cookout to show off my mad grillin' skillz.
92. Buy a brand new car (not one that is just "new to me").
93. Take my wife out to eat at St. Elmo's Steak House and not worry about the bill.
94. Own and maintain an aquarium that is at least 50 gallons.
95. Take a cycling vacation.
96. Go on a ghost hunt.
97. Complete a marathon.
98. Become knowledgable about wine, at least more than "I know I like reds."
99. See the Statue of Liberty and the Empire State Building in New York. (Technically, I've actually done this, but it was from a car window as we drove out of the city.)
100. Leave the world a better place than I found it. At least in some small way.

It's 9 O'clock, and Yes, I Know Where My Children Are

2009-05-31T21:02:00.012-04:00

They're in bed. Sleeping. Both of them. Ahhh...

It feels like we are finally getting into a routine around here, and both children are now settling into more regular sleeping patterns. In fact, both children were in bed and asleep before 8:15 p.m. tonight. It wasn't all that long ago that Frema and I were debating who'd be taking the first of the nighttime feedings for Nathan. In fact, it wasn't really all that long ago that we were doing the same for Kara either—they're only 13 months apart after all.

As he is still little (only 4 months as of today), we've been putting Nathan to bed when we thought he was tired rather than imposing a set bedtime. He could go down anytime from 8:30 to almost 10 p.m. But recently he's been getting sleepy around the same time one of us is putting Kara to bed, who is in her crib by 8 p.m. With both of them going to sleep so early, it's freeing up more of the evening for the grownups.

If only I could figure out a way to get them to sleep at the same time for naps during the day, too. Then the world would really be my oyster.

New Baby, Part Deux

2009-02-10T10:39:00.013-05:00

OK, a few things have transpired in the last two months since I've written anything here. Kara had her actually birthday and was still sick for it. Don't worry, she did get better and finally had her small taste of cake (after disposing of the frosting by flipping over her banana cupcake). Also, we finally got rid of my old car that was beginning to be the bane of my existence. While it seemed to run (for the most part), there was little suspension left in the rear and one wheel was starting to bend inward, looking like it might snap off at any moment. Really, it was not a fun-to-drive vehicle in any sense. But the biggest thing was that we brought home a new addition to our little family.

Nathan Byron was born at 8:39 a.m. on Jan. 31, 2009, weighing in at 9 pounds 5 ounces and was 22 and a quarter inches long. (If you think those stats make for a big baby, you forgot what size his sister came out.) It was a bit of surprise having a baby who actually fit into newborn clothes and diapers.

While Frema and I are still adjusting to be parents of two, I can't imagine what it is like to be a one year old adjusting to what it means to be an older sibling. I'm not sure what she really understands of what is going on. But other than freaking out when he cries now and then, so far Kara seems to be taking it all pretty well. Although she does get a little too excited and has ended up smacking him in the face once or twice reached out to touch him. We are pretty sure she has not meant to be malicious. Still, it has not been easy trying to teach her to soft and gentle to the baby, but other than that we're pretty sure that she likes having him around.

When she's not sure where he is, she'll look around for him and peek in the bassinet and the playpen. It will be interesting to see what they're like together when they are a little older, like when he's able to actually play with toys and realize it when she takes one away from him. But for now, it's just cute to see her get excited and squeal with sheer delight when she sees him.

Not the Birthday Memories We Thought We'd Have

2008-12-15T20:02:00.000-05:00

Not long after this picture was taken, the birthday party outfit Kara was wearing in it was covered in vomit. Again and again, before we could get it off her and in the bath. Though it wasn't her actual birthday—which is not until Wednesday—we held her very first birthday party on Saturday. Unfortunately, neither the birthday girl nor her parents were at the party when most of the guests arrived at our house for the celebration.

Just before the party was set to start, Kara started throwing up her lunch in rivers, raging class V rivers of puke. Most of it got on Frema, but I had my share, too. Vomiting was one thing, but she also banged her head on an end table a few hours before, and the nurse on our doctor's office's on-call line was concerned that the repeated puking and unusual tiredness she was also having were signs of a head injury.

After cleaning our baby up in the bath and changing our own clothes to get ready to take her in to get examined, she threw up again. This time we just wiped her down as best we could and went with a little vomit on ourselves. Even if we had changed again, Mommy got it again twice in the exam room at the children's hospital, anyway.

Kara wanted to fall asleep in the car on the way there, but we were advised to not put her down for a nap, just in case. As it was also around nap time, Frema worked hard to keep her occupied in the backseat. Kara was one drowsy baby and wanted nothing more than to nod off. Despite being a little sleep deprived and having gotten rid of most of her lunch, she was actually in pretty good spirits for the beginning of the visit. She was responsive to the doctor and walked to me steadily across the room without signs of being unbalanced (for a toddler, anyway).

Although she was showing no other signs of head trauma or a concussion than the vomiting and tiredness, the doctor ordered a CT scan to check for a fracture or signs of internal bleeding. This is where the good spirits ended. We had to wait a little while to get in for the exam, and up until that point she had both her parents to comfort her. But as Frema is pregnant, we had to leave Mommy back in the exam room, and Kara only had her daddy to help her through the ordeal.

The technician was very nice and soothing, but that didn't matter much to Kara. We were in a strange room with odd machinery that made foreign noises, and she had to be put down on slab to be moved into the giant doughnut-hole of the scanner. Her head was so little that had to prop her with a folded towel underneath her head and two more on the sides. Even with all that I had to hold her head still. She was terrified; she started screaming as soon as I put her down and it only got worse when the nurses adjusted her and put the heavy lead shielding apron over her abdomen. She had no way of knowing it was actually for her own good. Even I actually knew that myself, it took every bit of will power I had to let the test go on and not pick her up and comfort her. I sang to her and gently held my hand on her chin to encourage her to hold still. She was fairly calm by the time the actual scanning took place, but I still can't get how scared she looked out of my head.

Luckily, the scan came back clear, and the doctor determined she likely had a stomach virus and advised Pedialyte only for 24 hours. She did not like that stuff. Not one bit. She wouldn't drink it out of bottle, sippy cup, or the medicine-dropper/pacifier someone gave us at her shower. For those who've never sampled Pedialyte, the orange and grape are somewhat like think soda that's gone flat and stale. If you go for the unflavored variety, it's kind of like water in that it's clear, but it's think and slightly salty. Kind of like drinking someone's spit. But it was the unflavored stuff that we actually got Kara to drink some of. It's pretty lucky she is not old enough to make the OPS (other people's saliva) connection.

Concussion worries out of the way, Kara finally napped in the car and was in better spirits by the time we got home. Our guests had waited patiently the whole time we were gone, so we opened presents and had some quick cake when we got home (but we did forget to serve the ice cream and are very, very sorry). Kara even made the rounds, being the good hostess that she is. Despite the day's ordeal, she really seemed to have a good time. And she's mostly better now. She's thrown up once since more then and has a slight fever that comes and goes, but we sure she's getting better all the time. It was much harder to be so optimistic when we thought we might be dealing with severe head trauma.

It's now very odd to think that the post I had planned that morning was going to be about how the bakery messed up her name and I thought about leaving it for a good story in the future, rather than getting them to fix it. (Don't worry. I did make them fix it before I left the store, as it first said "Happy 1st Birthday, I hara," whatever that means.)

The Unearthly Glow of the Christmas Spirit

2008-12-10T21:12:00.002-05:00

It's beginning to look more and more like Christmas in our new home. We bought and put up our tree last week and finally decorated it just last night after Kara went to bed. Wanting to keep with the latest in eco-friendly holiday technology, I insisted that we get LED lights for our new tree. I always liked the classic look of the clear bulbs, so we got a few strands of white lights and strung them around the tree.

Now, Frema, who would have preferred multi-colored lights and didn't care about LED, is delighted with the tree and thinks the lights are very pretty. But I'm not as sure anymore. It's not that I don't like the tree all lit up or think it looks bad at all. Still, there's just something about those lights. They are very bright and put a stark white light, as opposed to the yellowish hue of more traditional holiday bulbs.

And the more I look at them—especially when the rest of the lights in the room are off—they look like spooky ghost lights possessing the fake branches of our tree. That's not exactly the kind of Christmas spirit most people want for the holidays. Hopefully, I just hope they don't give Santa the heebie-jeebies too badly.

Almost Up to Date

2008-11-22T14:35:00.017-05:00

A great deal has transpired since I last blogged, which I suppose happens when you don't write any entries for several months. It wasn't so much that I didn't have much to say about any of it, but by the time I worked up the gumption to actually write something about the various milestones we've hit our household, the subject no longer felt timely. Still for some reason, instead of just starting anew, I feel compelled to sum up and some of the larger topics I most likely would've babbled about on before I can go on:

We celebrated my first Father's Day with a baby on the outside of her mommy's belly.

Kara finally fell into a regular routine for napping (which she recently fell right out of, sadly).

Summer officially came (and officially left, and we never made use of the swimming pool at our complex in 2008).

I became an uncle for the second time. This time to a nephew, Danny, who is pictured here with his Auntie Frema.

We moved out of the apartment complex we had lived in for nearly three and a half years.

We moved into a house that we spent nearly six months looking for, and we happily got a pretty good deal on it.

It was the first year in a long time that I did not dress up for Halloween. However, it was the first year that we dressed up our daughter for the holiday. She went as a pumpkin ninja, armed with tiny fists of orange fury.

Someone I voted for in a major election actually won. It feels like it's been a long time since that's happened last.

Isn't This Supposed to be a Buyer's Market?

2008-06-14T17:25:00.004-04:00

Frema and I have been searching for a house to make a home for our growing family in some of the 'burbs just west of Indianapolis. We've been looking at modest three-bedroom abodes and thought we found a few promising options, so we've put down a few offers. Sadly, so far none of them have worked out.

The first one we tried for was a long shot. It was a nice house and met all our needs, but our monthly payments would've made us struggle a bit and left little room for financial comfort. So we gave them a low offer and decided to see what they came back with. The family did come down a bit in their counter, which was actually reasonable. Alas, that still left the home out of reach for us.

The next two houses we went for we gave fair offers for the value of the homes in the current market, but both returned with ridiculous counter offers that made us wonder if the owners even really want to sell. The first hardly came down at all and put forth a tiny bit of closing costs. Plus, they wanted to stay in the house for five days after closing. For free. The next house, which we also thought we'd have a good shot at for a reasonable price, considering it has been on the market for almost a full year. The owners countered by upping the purchase price, not just from our offer, but they now wanted $2,000 more than they had listed. They also wanted to stay in the house for free after closing—this time for seven days.

These people must all think we want to buy their houses to open up youth hostels or something. On both houses, we varied little from our original offer, as we don't want to overpay and we also have other options. There are many, many choices to consider these days, and neither of those owners—who had both had their houses up for sale for quite some time—seemed to understand we could just move on to the choice if things didn't work out.

Not negotiating much on money is one thing, but I am wrong in thinking that it is a bit audacious for them to expect us to keep living in a house that would then be ours after closing? I don't think that it was unreasonable of us to put the kibosh on that particular bargaining chip. It almost made me want to return with an even less sensible counter to their counter. Like asking them to provide diapers and formula for the first three months we lived there, coming back to mow our lawn on a regular basis, or lowering our offer to $4.37. I mean, after closing on the deal it would have been our house. Not only would we wanted to have started getting either one ready to live in, but the former owners could've just trashed the place on their way out.

So now we are moving on, we have another house that we are considering, and we have a few more we are going to look at on Monday. Our lease ends in July, an we have no intention of extending it any later than that. So one way or another, we are going to find a house and move in there this summer. Boy howdy, we are.

Just in Time for Earth Day

2008-04-22T09:58:00.008-04:00

A little peace and quiet can be sometimes be an expensive commodity for a stay-at-home parent. Sometime around mid-morning every day, Kara starts getting fussy and clearly needs a nap. She still has a hard time getting to sleep on her own, and one way to get her to take at least a short nap has been to take her on a drive. She'd typically start snoozing after 10 to 15 minutes in the car. But seeing as local gas prices are around $3.50 per gallon and that such a practice is hardly green, walks around our apartment are likely to replace the once-preferred method of calming the baby down for the times when she is otherwise inconsolable. This morning was definitely one of those times.

After nearly a half an hour of unsuccessful swaying, rocking, singing, and washing off spit-out pacifiers, I was getting desperate. Although her bouncy seat helped calm her down a bit, it was clear she wasn't going to go to sleep in it, and she was still not exactly calm—just calmer. So I decided to take her out for a walk and see how she did. I admit, however, if that didn't work I still was prepared to drive her out to Timbuktu and back if she'd nap even a few miles of the journey.

Fortunately, after being strapped in the stroller she was considerably quieter, and she was completely at peace by the time we were rolling out the door. By the time we were halfway through our second time around the complex, she was conked out. I left her in the stroller, so she could sleep and stayed that way for a while. In the car seat, she would often wake up as soon it was unlatched from the base, but she has been asleep since we came back in almost 40 minutes ago.

The environmentally friendly, less expensive method definitely wins this round. Hopefully, her fussier times won't come on mornings when it's raining out.

The Octopus Sings Backup

2008-04-16T22:27:00.003-04:00

Going along with the ocean theme for her room (and future career as a marine biologist), we picked up these finger puppets to perform for Kara a while ago. Whenever I put them on I can't resist singing "Under the Sea" from The Little Mermaid. I usually get through the first verse and chorus before she pulls them off and starts gumming the crab's claws. I admit I can rarely remember more than that bit of the song, anyway. Breain has made up her own little song involving the puppets, but I'll stick to the Disney tune for now.

It's not that I don't try to make up my own songs or sing others, but I can't seem to remember the words or come up with anything good. Especially when it is time to be soothing under pressure. In fact, the only songs that ever seem to come to mind are "The Song that Never Ends" and "The Alphabet Song." The former tends to annoy even the smallest of persons as well as the singer, but the ABC's tend to at least stop the crying all the way to "...next time won't you sing with me" and is pretty easy to repeat a few times. Even though it's the same melody, for some reason "Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star" just doesn't seem to have the same effect, and even "Under the Sea" eludes me in times of crisis.

I know that there are more in my head somewhere, but when they are needed no others seem to come to the surface. Now that Kara is sleeping soundly for the night, many little child-appropriate ditties come to mind. When tomorrow comes, however, should the need arise, I am sure that I'll be singing my ABC's to a child that won't be singing them with me for a little while yet. In the meantime, maybe I should make sure I have a few songs down pat before the only effective one in my arsenal loses its potency.

A Morning Conversation Between Father and Daughter

2008-03-26T10:52:00.003-04:00

Daddy: Hi, sweetheart! (Picks up baby)

Kara: Goo! Gurgle-boo! BAH!

Daddy: Are you having a good day, Kara? Are you having a fun morning with Daddy?

Kara: Eep-burble! BLAH! (Smiles and spits up all over self and her father; remains unfazed.)

Never a Convenient Time

2008-01-22T19:57:00.001-05:00

Car trouble, whatever the cause, never happens at a good time. Simply because there is never a good time for vehicle woes. But this time around, what at first appeared to be a minor snafu has become more and more of a pain. Shortly into my journey back to work after lunch going between five and 10 miles per hour, I slowly slid sideways on ice around a turn in our apartment complex's parking lot and hit the curb. This impact surprisingly resulted in a nasty sounding crunch, after which the car wouldn't budge an inch. I got out and went around to see the front passenger's side wheel at an awkward angle. A guy walking his dog nearby came over and looked at it to let me know that "the wheel is bent pretty bad." Thanks, buddy. That is so very helpful.

Actually, it didn't look that bad. Surely, the wheel could just be straightened out and would only cost a few hundred dollars to fix. So I walked back the 50 or so feet to our apartment and told Frema what happened. Then I called a tow truck to take it to the service shop we patronize for vehicle work, and a little while later returned to work in my aging Chevy Lumina that I had been happy to not have to drive for the past several weeks.

I went through the rest of the day blissfully unaware of the impending quote for the parts and labor. Not long after I got home, the repair shop called with a startling quote of $1,500 for parts with a total ballpark estimate of $2,300 including labor. Really, it didn't look like that much. But I guess the way the wheel hit the curb messed up about everything connected to it.

At first we debated not even getting insurance involved and just paying it out of pocket. But we thought better of that especially when I called my dad for advice on the subject. He reminded me that costly accidents are just why people have car insurance. So we opted to call our insurance and just pay the deductible. Still not free, but it is much more agreeable of a number.

Today, I gave official notice at work to be a stay-at-home dad in about a month, and we received a sizable doctor's bill from the pediatrician. Not a great time to make a large payment to a mechanic, just to avoid insurance hassles.

A Long Short Week

2008-01-04T17:38:00.000-05:00

My first week back to work is now at an end, and thanks to the New Year’s holiday, it was an abbreviated one at that. But just the same, I was still not thrilled to be going back. Although it's certainly not a bad place to work and my boss and co-workers are all very nice people, it was an odd, empty feeling to return after being gone for so long. Unlike being away for long vacation, I was leaving my wife and child at home alone after being there with them for more than two weeks.

When we first came home from the hospital, I thought that I might be looking forward to returning to the rat race with my nose to the grindstone, as the schedule of those first days was pretty rough. However, as the end of our time to all be together drew closer, the less I wanted to go back. I feel like I just made it through this last day of the three-day workweek, as I found myself fighting fatigue for most of the day and did my impression of a bobble-head as I tried not to let eyes close or my head droop. At least the weekend will be here for a few days before I have to leave them again. Hopefully, a nap of my own will be in the works sometime in there.

Less and Less Excited About Poop

2007-12-27T16:26:00.000-05:00

After a recent well-baby visit to the pediatrician and several bowel movements, I am now fully confident that my daughter is healthy. So now that I can stop worrying about whether or not they are coming (because they do), I no longer look forward to the prospect of my child releasing a load in her drawers.

As it was days after she expelled all the oh-so-pleasant meconium, I had anxiously awaited for Kara to dirty a diaper so I could check at least one thing off my list to tell if there is something wrong with her or not. Shortly after I posted the last post on the subject of poop, she had decided to make up for lost time with more gooey feces than you could shake a stick at (or more than you could even shake off of one, for that matter). The one after that had such a color and consistency that it may have ruined me on chocolate pudding for quite some time. And they keep coming, and there are surely more on the way.

I've Never Been So Excited About Poop

2007-12-22T21:24:00.000-05:00

We've been home from the hospital with the third member of our family for a few days now (I originally typed "weeks" here, when I first posted this—boy, am I tired), and it's been pretty rough. There's been little sleep, much worrying, and more than a few calls to medical professionals. But all is well now, as the baby finally had her long overdue bowel movement.

She had plenty of wets, but she hadn't dirtied a diaper since our second day at the hospital, and we were getting concerned. The doctor said that wet ones were more important at this point to be sure she wasn't getting dehydrated, but the lack of feces seemed more than significant to her parents. I had been waiting and hoping and wishing each time I changed her diaper but to no avail.

It seems like a weird thing—to pray for poop to come—but I am finding that becoming a parent turns all your priorities completely around. Parenthood can apparently also give you odd ideas on what kids like because I decided as a reward for her intestinal efforts she deserved to try out the swing that has been waiting for her in the living room. So it seems that in my logic, when babies poop they should get a ride. In any event, she seems to have liked it. At least enough to take a nap in.

Baby Day

2007-12-17T06:43:00.000-05:00

Unless the labor turns out to be very long and drawn out, our baby will be born sometime today. At 7:30 this morning, we are scheduled to go in for an induction. Well, technically Frema is scheduled for an induction, but I am going, too.

It's feels a bit different than just going to the hospital because it was time. Instead of having to go in because labor suddenly struck, it is now a prearranged appointment. So now rather than us just going in when it was time, it feels a little like we had the baby on order and need to go pick her up from the catalog department. We'll pull the car around to the back, and they'll wheel her out and unload her into the car seat.

I am sure it won't feel like that when we get to the hospital and certainly not when she is actually on her way. But it's an odd feeling to have to wait for a specific time to go in and have a baby.

A Constant State of Readiness

2007-12-16T09:03:00.001-05:00

So the baby didn't come last night, but all that snow the news had been discussing did. It covered up all the ice that laid a thick crust over everything the night before. I cleaned off the car quite a few times last night, so it wouldn't take as long to scrap off if we did have to go to the hospital and we could be ready. But we still had to go to bed at some point.

Looking outside our living room window, I couldn't tell which car was ours at first glance. It's the one in the middle. At least I think it is. I'll know for certain when I go out to clean it off in a bit. Which I may do multiple times today, as the snow is forecast to keep on coming well into the evening. Unless of course Frema goes into labor right after I get back inside. Then it would be just the one time.

Rotting Leaves + Fresh Snow + Stream Bank = Cold, Wet Rear End

2007-12-15T16:33:00.000-05:00

It's hard to know what to do today while we are watching and waiting to see if we need to go to the hospital. So while Frema napped, I went for a little walk around the apartment complex (with my cell phone on, mind you) to take some pictures of any winter scenes I might happen upon. There is actually a wooded area with a stream that flows through it right behind our building, which was as close to a hike as I wanted to get since labor could hit at any moment.

I walked a little ways down past the complex property into the woods a bit, where I saw a double curve in the stream that would make a decent shot. So I grabbed a branch on a tree at the top of the bank and leaned in to get a picture. Suddenly I felt my feet go out from under me, the branch I was hanging onto break, and found myself slipping quickly down the slope of wet leaves covered in snow towards the water. Luckily, I caught myself just inches from the water. I was still plenty cold and wet from falling down, but at least I didn't have to walk back home completely drenched and shivering. Looking at it now, the picture above wasn't worth the trouble, but I am posting it just the same.

The snow has seemed to have subsided for now, and the weather has not turned out to be the blanketing storm that local weatherpersons were talking about on the news last night. I've not heard more than two to four inches for the day. It doesn't look like we'll be snowed in, though a wintry mix is predicted through tomorrow when more snow is expected. So if we have to rush off, it will still be slow going; it's a good thing the hospital is only two and a half miles away.

Today?

2007-12-15T00:07:00.000-05:00

Well, maybe. The baby could possibly come today. But the day is just starting now, as we're only a few minutes into Saturday. Officially, anyway. So it may be too early to really tell what the day will hold. In fact, many would claim it's still Friday night. I should actually be resting just in case, but I am restless and not feeling much like going to bed just yet.

I just got back from the store in a late-night effort to get Frema the ice cream she needs to get through the weekend, in case we end up getting snowed in and can't get out. According to recent weather reports, there is a blizzard blowing in from the west. The forecasts I've heard vary a lot, ranging from six to eight inches up to as much as 10 to 17 inches for the weekend. (Yikes!) Unfortunately, Indianapolis is not all that great on keeping up with the street-plowing when it snows.

Not the best weekend for this to happen, I suppose. But if this baby does decide to come in the next two days, we are going to make it to the hospital one way or another. And if she doesn't come, the weather is supposed to be much clearer for Monday, which is when we have an early appointment for an induction. If necessary. She could well come before then, and I'll carry Frema to the hospital through the snow if I have to.

Still Not Yet

2007-12-14T07:27:00.000-05:00

Last night, apparently, was wishful thinking. Just when we'd think the contractions were getting stronger and more consistent, they'd start to subside. However, this baby will be born one way or another in the next few days, believe you me.

We have an OB appointment this afternoon, where Frema will go through a non-stress test and we'll talk about induction sometime soon. But hopefully it won't come down to that, and the baby will decide to just come on her own.

One Day at a Time

2007-12-13T21:45:00.000-05:00

Monday's due date has come and gone. And after several hopeful moments over the past few days, the baby has not decided to make an appearance yet. December 13 is nearing its end, with just a bit more than two hours left in the day. Whether or not December 14 will be the day or not is anybody's guess.

It seems silly that about a month ago, both Frema and I were pretty certain that our baby would be coming early. Three days after the due date is hardly all that late, but each day since December 10 seems like a week in itself.

But just now as I have been typing, Frema advised me that the contractions are growing stronger and more consistent. If they don't end up subsiding this time around, perhaps we will be going to the hospital after all.

Not Just Yet

2007-12-10T22:57:00.000-05:00

With roughly an hour left in the day, it does not seem that our firstborn will make an appearance on her official due date. But we haven't quite been alone lately, either. Not only have many friends and family members called to see how things were progressing, we also had some recent visitors, as a whole flock of mallard ducks parked their tail feathers right outside our apartment and dug through the muck in the puddles of melting snow trying to find something to eat.

On both Saturday and Sunday, they spent a lot of time rummaging around in the little yard in front of our stoop where water collects in a few low spots. Our feathered friends did not stay, however, as they had returned to the retention pond by today. I don't know if they just didn't find much more than rotting leaves and grass or if they were just disappointed that the baby hasn't come yet themselves.

The Squeaky Wheel

2007-12-09T16:38:00.000-05:00

Apparently, it pays to complain. I normally try to avoid the drive-thru, as there seems to be a tendency for orders to get mixed up, and even if you check your bag before heading home you might not notice every mistake they made.

Last night, Frema had a craving for a burger and fries from the nearby Steak 'n Shake, and I ordered a Bits 'n Pieces shake of the peanut butter cup variety. In the store I could've seen them in the glass, but in the opaque to-go cup, I only had the top to go by. Looking at the shake in the car it looked fine, with whipped cream covered in the bits 'o peanut butter cup. But when we got it home, none of the pieces were in the actual shake at all, just sprinkled on top, making it essentially just a vanilla shake with a little extra bling.

OK, I'll admit, it's not that big of a deal, and it's not like they forgot to put the ice cream in it or substituted the peanut butter cup bits with thumbtacks, but I have already been on edge waiting for the birth of our daughter who could literally come at any minute now. Thus, when I was checking the receipt to see if the order was rung up correctly, I noticed the comment/concerns hotline at the bottom. The conversation I had with the person on the other end was pretty uneventful, though the longer I talked with her the more petty I felt about piping up about not getting the bits and pieces in my shake as promised. However, I am supposed to be getting a $5 gift card in the mail for my trouble, which covers the cost of another shake by a little over a dollar.

I suppose that it does pay to complain then. In fact, it might pay to complain to random businesses even when you don't have a real problem. The woman on the other end had no idea whether or not there was really anything wrong with my shake, but someone with just a few less scruples could start calling other such numbers with phony comments/concerns just to see what they can get to "appease" them. I am not going to do that, though. In fact, I may even feel a bit guilty for making the complaint in the first place when I use the gift card to get a new shake.

Nobody Picked Today

2007-12-05T07:29:00.000-05:00

My office started a baby pool yesterday to bet on what day and time the birth of my daughter will be. I was not allowed to actively participate, but Frema and I will get half the pot no matter when it happens. The person with the closest time will get the other half.

Someone has already lost as they picked last night, and I am fairly certain that the blessed event did not occur. For some reason, my co-workers seemed certain that it would not happen today, as nobody chose Dec. 5. So we'll see what happens. Many tried to get insider intel from me, but I honestly have no idea as to when this baby will come. Still, here's when the people I work with think it will (or would have) happen(ed):

December 4
10 p.m.

December 6
11:11 a.m.

December 7
9:15 a.m.
1:01 p.m.

December 8
8: 15 a.m.

December 9
4:50 p.m.

December 10
7:08 a.m.
10:15 a.m.

December 11
3:14 a.m.
3:47 a.m.
5:30 a.m.
6:30 a.m.
7: 30 p.m.
10:15 p.m.

December 12
5:43 a.m.
11:20 a.m.

December 13
7:47 a.m.
9:14 a.m.

December 14
8:53 p.m.
10:22 p.m.

December 17
9:32 a.m.
10:25 a.m.

Finally and Not Yet

2007-11-30T17:37:00.000-05:00

I feel like I should post something stellar for the final day of NaBloPoMo. But I spend most of the day writing about other people for work, so I am not always up for writing about myself at great length. In addition to NaBloPoMo coming to a close, it is nearing the end of my time without children to be responsible for, as our daughter could be born any day now.

Every day someone at work asks me one of two things: "Was your baby born yet?" or "Are you getting nervous about being a parent?" On the latter, I am not really all that nervous or anxious. Perhaps that is because it all doesn't quite seem real. Even at a few months shy of 34, I don't feel old enough to start having children. That's something for grownups, which is something I rarely feel very much like.

Regarding the former, my answer of course is always no. For obvious reasons. Not that every father takes off work in the first few weeks of their child's life, I made it clear that I was not going to be coming in for a little while when my own daughter is born. Still, I understand that people may forget that, as it is not their life or their job to remember about. But I still wonder if they think babies are born that quickly. People who saw me just the day before ask me the next morning whether the blessed event has happened yet, so either they are excited or they must think that the whole labor and recovery thing happens happens a lot faster than it probably does.

But even if I was going straight back to work right after the baby's born, I don't think I'd be much use after staying up all night and would probably take a personal day.

Safety First

2007-11-29T17:37:00.000-05:00

The public educator at the Pike Township Fire Department told me that she has never had someone come in with their infant car seat install as securely as I did when I brought it for inspection at lunch today. I admit that I had help, though, from my dad and brother putting the bases in both my car and Frema's about a month and a half ago.

However, I did learn a few things that we had planned to do are potentially unsafe. Like putting in the roll-up window shades, which can come off and cause injury in a crash. You see those around a lot on other people's cars, and you figure that they wouldn't sell them if they were safe for babies. While I can't image they would really be all that dangerous, the certified inspector at the fire department did advise against it and recommended the window-cling variety. I looked them up, and there are some that change color in the sun. Just like my old G.I. Joe Zartan action figure or the Hypercolor T-shirt I had back in high school.

Obligatory Nov. 28 Entry

2007-11-28T23:27:00.000-05:00

It's getting down to the wire for NaPoBloMo, and I've already had one placeholder entry. Just a few days ago, in fact. But gosh darn it, I just might have to play that card again. It's already after 11:30, and if I am going to make it every day of November I've got to come up with something. Technically, this post does qualify for today, but I am not proud of it. No sir.

Stating the Obvious

2007-11-27T21:01:00.000-05:00

It seems to me lately that the impending birth of one's child is a topic of conversation that has a lot in common with talking about the weather. Everyone knows when it is too cold or too cold and can easily tell when the rain is falling on their head, but there is almost always someone in any given group of people that must point out that water is falling from the sky, revealing the mysterious reason as to why you are getting wet.

Similarly, when you're going to become a parent, there seem to be those who like to tell you that you're not going to get much sleep once the baby is born. Because apparently most new parents-to-be are never aware that babies need a great deal of care and have never heard that they need to be fed even at night. People keep telling me things like, "You'd better get used to not sleeping because that baby's not going to let you rest one bit." Is that really meant to be advice? How is that helpful? Even people that don't have children seem to be knowledgeable on the subject and feel the need to "help me out" as such.

What would we do without someone to inform us of those things that we are already aware of?

As annoying as this bit of human nature is to me, it is even worse when the non-pregnant populace is addressing pregnant women. Whether a woman is expecting or not, she doesn't want to be told she's "getting big." This should really be common knowledge, but it's a fact that seems to be lost on far too many people. Somehow rules of etiquette go out the door to them when they encounter a woman with a little one in her belly, and they absolutely must say the first thing that pops into their head. Believe you me, my wife is constantly aware that she is pregnant and doesn't need to be reminded. Comments like "You must be ready to pop!" or "Boy, you sure are pregnant!" are not going to be appreciated by any expecting female. If you think they are, then you deserve what's coming to you.

Pysche!

2007-11-26T22:06:00.001-05:00

One-minute contraction...five minutes...one-minute contraction...five minutes...one-minute contraction...seven minutes...eight minutes...nine minutes...

Tonight was the first time Frema and I thought it was best to start timing contractions, which for a time seemed like they might well regular enough to be calling the obstetrician. Then they suddenly subsided. It was a bit surreal to have to time them, but we were never sure they weren't Braxton Hicks, either.

Actually, if this baby can wait until at least December, it would give me a chance to finish up the projects I am in the middle of for work. And she can at least wait until after tomorrow, it would work better for Frema's projects at her own employment. But I suppose this baby will just come when she's ready whether we are or not. At least we have our bags packed and in the car for when she does.

The Day the Earth Stood Still

2007-11-25T18:31:00.001-05:00

I suppose it had been giving us warning with its unreliable service for the past week or so, but it still seemed like a shock when our modem went out this morning. It was working yesterday, but this morning when I went to check my e-mail there was no connection. After a quick investigation, I discovered that there was no power to our wireless modem in the other room, and as such we were cut off from out outside world for the day (not counting the phone or television or when we actually left the apartment).

Frema and I were going to head to my office to use the Internet there for us each to post entries for the day. Although it is only about a six minute drive from home and it wouldn't have been to do any work, I really didn't want to spend any part of the last day of a four-day weekend at my place of employment. To make a long story short, after Frema called the service techs for our ISP, a quick trip to the nearest electronics retailer, and dropping $90 plus tax on a new modem, we got back online early this evening.

We would've had to spend the money at some point to get Internet access again anyway, so it might as well been today rather than putting it off for a day. So don't go thinking that we rushed out to get a new modem just for the sake of NaBloPoMo. But it did save us from having to go to my office for the sake of NaBloPoMo. Besides, I am a bit fuzzy right now on what my security code for the door to the building is, anyway. So it might well have also saved us from explaining to a security guard why I was coming into the office in the first place.

Saturday, Nov. 24 Entry: Check

2007-11-24T21:18:00.000-05:00

Oh, Saturday night NaBloPoMo entry, we meet again. There are still a few hours left in the day, so I am well ahead of deadline.

I have been fighting a sinus infection or maybe it's just a cold, but I've been a bit spacey and out-of-it all day. And focusing on a blog post is a bit of a struggle right now. I suppose I don't have much worth saying, but isn't everyone entitled to a placeholder entry during NaBloPoMo? If not, I don't think I would've signed on for this dealie in the first place.

Not Today

2007-11-23T10:40:00.000-05:00

Although I did venture out into the world on the reportedly busiest shopping day of the year, I only went to the grocery store and a gas station. Both of which were pretty dead. If those businesses did have any doorbuster deals, they were over by the time I had been there mid-morning.

I don't recall ever getting up at the crack of dawn to go holiday shopping, but I did used to have to work on every Black Friday, back when I was a newspaper reporter. I had Thanksgiving off but never the day after. Being a small town it was already hard to find news on a daily basis, and the only real news on that day was always the start of the Christmas buying craziness at the local Store-Which-Must-Not-Be-Named. I'd get up super early—though not as early as actual shoppers—to get a picture of people waiting in line out in the cold. But those days are (thankfully) long gone, and we actually finished our shopping weeks ago. So there was no reason to get up and fight the crowds. In fact, I think I didn't get up until around 9 a.m. or so, and for me that's sleeping in.

However, it is dangerous to be done with Christmas shopping early. I have always typically started early, some years around late October. But the problem with that is its hard to tell yourself that you're really done, and you start to think of other things you want to get people. But this year—with the blessed event so near—we're on a pretty tight budget for money as well as time, so the less we have to and spend money on the better. The people we buy presents for are hardly materialistic anyway and just appreciate that we thought of them, but they will be thinking that even less about that when their holding their new grandchild/niece/cousin in their arms.

It's About Time They Made the Donuts

2007-11-22T20:33:00.000-05:00

(Before we get going today, I want to make it clear that we are not having doughnuts for Thanksgiving dinner. I am actually cooking a turkey breast in the slow cooker right now. This entry actually pertains to a day earlier in the week.)

Back in September, Dunkin' Donuts opened up shop in the affluent Indianapolis suburb of Carmel. We tried to go on various weekends at various times of the morning, but the line was always filled the store and went out the door. The drive-thru was equally packed, as a long queue of mostly SUVs snaked from the window throughout the parking lot. I don't actually know Carmel very well, so I don't know if there is just no other bakery in the city or if it just seemed like a trendy thing for rich people to do on a weekend morning.

Although Frema and I both like the doughnut chain—which seems to be prevalent up north and around Chicago but had been missing from the Indianapolis area for a few years—the line always just seemed too long to wait in. We knew there was also another store set to open much closer to us actually in the Indy, but it was not schedule to open until sometime in November. Eventually, we had let it go and settled for doughnuts from our local grocer's bakery; they weren't half bad, but the store was rather short on variety. But on a recent errand run, Frema thought perhaps we should check to see if the Indy branch was finally open.

Lo and behold, the Indianapolis Dunkin' Donuts was finally was open for business. Outside there were flags waving in the wind and a giant inflatable cup of joe to let all passersby know they could finally get their Dunkin' Donuts in Indianapolis once again an not have to fight a crowd of people for them. There was a small line inside, but there was room to park in the parking lot and you could actually walk in the door. After we ordered, we had to wait a minute or two to grab the next available seat, but it was nothing that we would've had to go through if we wanted to eat at the Carmel location all the other times we tried to go there.

Despite all the fanfare that the doughnut shop was making, I doubt that everyone is thankful about the its opening or placement in the parking lot in front of a strip mall. In fact, I can think of someone who is assuredly unhappy about it. Almost directly behind the Dunkin' Donuts building is a My Favorite Muffin & Bagel Café, looking quite sad and lonely. But for everyone else, I hope you have a very happy Thanksgiving.

LABELED!

2007-11-21T07:28:00.000-05:00

In case, you've never looked at the sidebar, I have been trying to get a photo on a label of Jones Soda for quite some time. Last night, I decided to check my old submissions to see how their votes were doing and noticed that one of mine had actually been selected. But it was way back in October 2006.

I am both elated to have finally been chosen and a little sad that I was never contacted about it nor sent a few sample labels in the mail, as they say they will in their label FAQ section. I e-mailed the folks at the Jones Soda Co. and got an automated out-of-office reply. But maybe when they get back from the holiday weekend they'll have good news in the form of a spare label they still had laying around. However, I am not expecting that any still exist that haven't been adhered to a bottle, so I am asking anyone out there if you ever see the picture below on a bottle of Blue Bubble Gum Soda to pick one up for me. I'd be ever so grateful.

Roads Less Traveled

2007-11-20T12:24:00.000-05:00

Many people from outside Indiana pass through the state on their way to somewhere else. Most of them only see the highways and the miles and miles of flat farmland, giving them a misconception that there is not much to see. But driving through the Hoosier countryside can actually provide you with unusual rewards, especially it seems iif you're not looking for them.

The other day I was driving around north of Indy looking for a upholstery shop, which I never found, but I did happen upon a someone's yard, who must put the steel and iron from aging farm equipment to a decidedly different use. Not only did he have many restored antique implements on display, he (or she) took a more creative use of metal and constructed several dinosaur skeletons that seemed guard the rest of the outdoor exhibit.

Sure, the Hoosier State's wide corn and soybean fields are not much to look at—particularly in the late fall through the early spring when there's not even anything growing. And sadly, that's all you really see from the many interstates that cross through Indiana. But if you get off the beaten path, every once and a while an oddity or curiousity will pop out at you and make the trip a bit more interesting.

Before We Even Have to Thaw the Turkey

2007-11-19T18:11:00.000-05:00

Just as many stores this year have already holding doorbuster sales ahead of the traditional Black Friday, our household is ahead of schedule for the holiday season. Frema and I have already finished up our Christmas shopping, and last night we put up our tree and hung three stockings on the wall. (THREE!) The presents are even wrapped and just have to be placed under the tree. Also, I am debating whether or not to hang lights on our apartment's stoop, but either way that is just a relatively small project.

As the only big project left, we still have to fill out Christmas cards but are waiting to officially add the third member of our family before getting them out. Since we decided not to finalize her name until we see her, we can't sign cards just yet. She could either not look and feel like the name we've been going with lately. Or the ultrasound technician could turn out to have been wrong back in July. But one way or another, our child is going to be here by the actual holiday, and we don't want just sign "...and baby."

It's Already Hard to Say No...

2007-11-18T14:07:00.000-05:00

After much talk about not needing to get anything for the baby for Christmas, Frema and I found ourselves half-suckered into doing so. I forgot why we originally went to Babies 'R Us yesterday, but I know we weren't going to spend nearly as much as we did by the time we left. Despite our original plans, after a few minutes in the one-stop-shop for baby gear and goods we decided it wouldn't hurt to buy a few small things for our little one's stocking. Soon after we were picking out clothes and other items, the largest of which was a crib toy/light show/music box that fit in with her ocean/future-marine-biologist bedroom theme. Plus, the TV-commercial baby is instantly calm and happy before slipping off into dreamland when it's turned on. This morning, however, we decided that after church it would be best to return some things, including the crib-side aquarium, largerly due to financial concerns. But we did keep the little stocking items for the baby.

Furthermore, we got to add some other money back on our Visa account by deciding against a DIY reupholstery project and returned the staple gun and staples we had bought (not to Babies 'R Us). However, we going to need all that money we put back into our available credit line because we also decided to have the rocking chair we were going to reupholster ourselves done professionally. I'm not going to say how much it will cost, but I will note that it sure ain't cheap. But the time and frustration saved will be well worth it, going into the holiday season with a new baby on the way.

Time Flies

2007-11-17T22:02:00.000-05:00

Saturday night's alright...but where did the day go? We set out to get several things done and started out doing a few errands, but most of those plans went awry and some have changed drastically. So we didn't get that much done, and now there's only a few hours of Saturday left. Soon Sunday will officially be here, and once Sunday is here, the workweek is right around the corner.

Ah, but it just hit me that it is a short workweek at that. Only three days long! Then the following weekend is four days long—of the few times a year that the weekend is actually longer than the rest of the week. Though I suspect that weekend may disappear just as quickly, despite being two days longer than most.

Officially Official

2007-11-16T18:38:00.001-05:00

It seems that I am now fully employed at my place of work now. Not that I haven't been working full time there for well over a year. It's just been that long for me to get actual spam in my inbox. As an editor at a trade publication, I get several press releases a day that don't really pertain to me, but they aren't technically spam, even though I don't want them.

However, today, I finally got my first dose of truly unwanted e-mail: one for German porno and the other was from a disabled veteran's widow trying to give away the millions she had in the bank before she died. I'm surprised it's taken this long for me to get on the "right" e-mail lists for my address to start picking up those sorts of messages, but it finally makes me feel more like an official member of the office.

Shipping Envy

2007-11-15T17:20:00.000-05:00

Like many working adults, I often find myself running errands during my lunch hour. Today I had to stop by the post office before heading back to work. Our local United States Postal Service office (the New Augusta branch) is in a large industrial park (Park 100), in which UPS also has a large distribution center that I pass on my way there.

Having the two facilities in close proximity to each other made me think about the possible relationship between the two shipping entities. It occurred to me that the UPS office probably gets mail from the USPS, though the post office branch probably doesn't have many packages shipped to or from via UPS. As such, I am left imagining a long-stranding animosity and rivalry stemming from UPS not being to handle their own mail, as they are a major shipping company, after all. I wonder if that ever makes for awkward moments when the mail carrier who has that route. Does the UPS staff suddenly stop talking when he walks in to drop off their mail? Do they smile at him when their mail is dropped off and then mock him behind his back when he leaves?

I suppose in reality he probably treats it like just like any other stop, and the staff at UPS facility probably treats their mail carrier the same way most businesses do. But in the back of my mind, there were always be a long-standing feud going on between the New August branch of the USPS and the UPS in Park 100.

Making Plans for Someone Else

2007-11-14T23:06:00.000-05:00

When my dad and I went to the Purdue game over the weekend, we stopped in one of the bookstore to check out the latest in Boilermaker fan gear. He bought us both new hats to wear to the game, while I was in search for something for his granddaughter who is coming in about a month (or less). I found this pink and white onesie that says "PURDUE" all over it.

Frema and I like to tease each other that she'll be going to our own respective alma maters. She even bought her a "Future Puma" sleep-and-play outfit from the St. Joseph's College bookstore a few months ago. But our daughter will be in Boiler attire long before she dons any Puma gear, as my onesie is labeled three months, whilst Frema's is for 12 months. Not only are we already planning what college we think she should go to, but I've already determined a potential career for her. Our daughter has several ocean-themed toys that go along with her sealife bedroom set, which I like to say she needs to start studying early to prepare for being a marine biologist. (Although that's not a major at Purdue, she'll certainly be smart enough to ace the GRE and sail through a grad school where she can specialize in the ocean sciences.)

It's really just a game we play, at the end of which we talk about how we'd be supportive whatever (legal and ethical) career path she may choose and whatever institution she decides to pursue an education at. As long as she is happy. Which she'll likely only be if she goes to Purdue and goes onto become a marine biologist.

Things to Talk About

2007-11-13T18:15:00.000-05:00

Lately, it feels like the only subjects I ever talk about with most people anymore are my impending status as a father and the state of Frema's pregnancy. At work, people are always asking "How are things going with your wife?" and "When is she due again?" Ever once and a while someone will inquire about my own well-being, asking me, "So, you getting nervous yet?" While at home, what-if situations are frequent topics of discussion as are what is left to do before the baby comes and what it will be like when the baby is here.

I suppose I should get used to it, as once our daughter is out in the world her growth and development will be major conversation dominators for quite a while, especially with friends and relatives. But seriously, it's already getting hard to remember whatever it was I used to talk about with other people before.

The Great Pumpkin No More

2007-11-12T18:22:00.000-05:00

Like most holidays, Halloween can linger a little while after the day has actually passed. Stores are usually discounting candy and various costume accessories, and many don't start taking down their spooky decorations the very next day. I for one forgot all about the jack-o-lantern sitting on our stoop until yesterday. I noticed it was starting to droop a little and made a mental note to dispose of it soon. But I forgot about it again until I came home for lunch today. Upon closer inspection, I saw the mold starting to fuzz up on one side of its face and around the eye patch, and the bottom had started to ooze a little. It seems I waited one day too long.

At least the pumpkin was not squishy with rot and could just be picked up and thrown away. Feeling a little bad about throwing away the anthropomorphosized gourd, I tried to be gentle as I lifted it up and brought it over to the dumpster. (I also didn't want the thing coming apart in my hands as I carried it, making a big, orange, moldy mess of myself and the parking lot.)

Sadly, it did not survive the fall as the once proud pirate pumpkin went over the wall into the big steel bin. But the life of a jack-0-lantern is indeed a short one, and at least it wasn't snuffed out by some hooligans out in the street and died with some of its dignity intact before the mold had taken over its whole face. Ick.

'Our Friendship May She Never Lack'

2007-11-11T18:32:00.000-05:00

Yesteday, my dad and I attended the last Purdue home game of the football season. It was a beautiful day to be outside, and we had a great time. Though I don't think the team did. For a while it seemed, like they might be able to bring it around, but there were just too many turnovers against the Boilermakers.

Admittedly, I am no football expert. But I suspect that part of the reason Purdue lost (31-48) is that Michigan State had players that can jump out and thwart a pass like this guy. After the second half, every time the Spartans scored a field goal or touchdown, more and more of the crowd left the stadium. But we stayed for the entire game and stuck with the Boilers, even after it was clear there was no winning the game.

However, going into the game most of the crowd was filled with team spirit. Fans cheered and roared at any good play the Boilers had on the field. Most of the game's attendee's wore black, which is one half of the univesity's colors (the other being gold). But there were others in the stands who showed their Boiler pride in other ways that may have not been clear how that was supporting the team exactly. But if you and your friend are going to dress up like the Easter Bunny and go to a college football game, you've got spirit of some sort, I suppose.

Hot Running Water

2007-11-10T08:10:00.001-05:00

In preparation for the day, I took a bath instead of a shower. Although it was not by choice. It's not actually our showerhead that's broken, but it still doesn't work. The part on the faucet that you pull down and turn to switch the water is jammed tight. The maintenance guy for our complex didn't make it here yesterday, and the apartment manager promised he would be here today. In the meantime, we've been taking baths instead of showers.

Frema reminded me that I used to live in an old apartment back in Rensselaer that didn't even have a shower. The bathroom had an old claw-footed tub that was set away from the wall. I had attached a handheld showerhead with a hose to the faucet, so I could sit in the tub and hold it over me to get clean. But that wasn't a remotely pleasant way to bathe. Or I could just take a bath, which I'd usually do the night before rather "showering" in the morning. Plus, it took a good five to 10 minutes of running the water before it would get warm and it would never really get hot. At least the rent was cheap there.

But now (most mornings) I can take an actual shower and water is hot almost as soon as the knob is turned to the left. It seems like a somewhat silly thing to be so appreciative of, but I am so glad to have a real shower in our home, even if I couldn't use it today.

Oh, the Places I've Been

2007-11-09T17:12:00.000-05:00

After yesterday's post on places I'd like to go, I thought I should make note of some of the more interesting places I've been to. This list is by no means complete, but I thought I'd have the same number of places as yesterday just to be consistent.

Niagara Falls: Frema and I visited both the Canadian and American sides of the falls on our honeymoon last May. The massive amount of water that pours over them is really evident if you take a tour of the Cave of the Winds or ride on the Maid of the Mist.
New York: Admittedly, I only spent a half day or so there and only saw the Statue of Liberty from the road, but I did take the subway and walked around Times Square.
Philadelphia: A good friend of mine used to live in the area, and I visited him out there a few times. I toured Indendence Hall and ran up the steps of the Philadelphia Museum of Art a la Rocky. If you're ever in the city, I recommend taking a ghost tour of Old City and grabbing a pint at Monk's Belgian Cafe and Beer Emporium.
Disney World: It's been a while, and I understand that's grown quite a bit since I was there last, but we took two family vacations there when I was a kid.
Mackinac Island: Motorized vehicles are outlawed there, and there are more fudge shops on that tiny island than I've seen in any other city. I rode a rented bicycle around the entire perimeter of the island, which was really not very far.
Rocky Mountain National Park: I didn't get to spend much time there, but I was in the Denver area for work and made some time to visit the mountainous park. If I ever make it back, I'll remember to bring warmer clothing to put on when touring the higher elevations. It was too chilly for chinos and a polo shirt even at the height of summer.
Atlantic City: I quickly lost five dollars in a casino and decided not to bet anymore on that trip. I did have a good time, however, in a bar at Bally's when we were stuck inside due to a tornado in the area. But before that it was fun to just walk along the boardwalk. Also, they have street signs that look like giant Monopoly property cards for the streets that the places on the board where named after.
Gauley River National Recreation Area: During early fall when the Army Corps of Engineers opens the Summersville Lake dam, the river kicks it up a notch (BAM!) and becomes a mecca for whitewater rafting with several class V+ rapids. I've been there for the prime season twice.

My Own 1,000 Places

2007-11-08T18:34:00.000-05:00

Frequent business trips have yet to ruin me on traveling. Though they have made me much less keen on dealing with the airlines and spending time in airports. Still, I often dream about taking exotic vacations to far-off locales. I have not read 1,000 Places to See Before You Die. But I do like the idea of keeping a list of places that must be seen in my lifetime. I would've thought that such a list for me would be long and extensive. Actually there are just a few places I haven't been to yet but absolutely must be visited one day. Don't worry, there are no where near 1,000 of them. There are a few national parks that I'd love to see one day as well, but the most important places I hope to make it to one day are listed below in no particular order:

The Grand Canyon: I believe we've already discussed this.
Key West: I've always wanted to have my picture taken standing next to the marker that denotes the most southern point in the continental United States.
Ireland and Great Britain: The lands of many of my ancestors. Jolly Olde England—where my family name is said to come from—has a manor that shares the name and is now n inn.
Germany: That way I can see if I remember any of the German I learned from taking the language for four years in high school and two semesters in college.
Hawaii: I want to lay on a black-sanded beach and go hiking on a volcano.
Arizona, Colorado, New Mexico, and Utah: All the same time at the Four Corners Monument.
Seattle, Washington: It's the birthplace of grunge, and I hear they are rather big on coffeehouses there. I wouldn't go to Starbucks, though, even if the city is their hometown.
Northern California: I've actually been to SoCal, but I think a quieter journey in the wine country would be much more fun as well as seeing the ginormous redwoods.
Australia: Some of the coolest-sounding accents on the planet. Plus, they have interesting fauna, such as platypi, kangaroos, and koalas.

Cirrocumulus

2007-11-07T19:51:00.000-05:00

People are very generous when they find out you're going to become a parent. We received a treasure trove of gifts from friends and family at the baby shower last month. There have been many helpful hand-me downs from people we know with children as well as many new items that will be used by our baby first. Others have thoughtfully sent random presents in the mail out of the blue. And just the other day I was given a very sweet gift for the baby from the accountant at work, who told me that every baby needs a hand-knit afghan. She said that all her children and grandchildren had them and wanted to give me one for my baby.

Although you can't really tell from the picture, it has some shimmery threads woven through it as well. Plus, it's soft and fluffy. Folded up on our quilt there, it kind of reminds me of a rectangular cloud.

Four, There's Four!

2007-11-06T22:04:00.000-05:00

Apparently, I forgot one of the books in our pirate children's books. Or is that children's pirate books? I suppose the latter is more appropriate, unless your children are indeed pirates. In any event, there are actually four books in our collection.

The fourth (Thunder and the Pirates) was given to us by the baby's paternal grandparents, who bought it on the vacation to Virginia and North Carolina's Outer Banks, which their youngest son (me) had been urging them to take for several years. Somehow it had been separated from its compatriots and was sadly forgotten in yesterday's post.

No, I didn't leave it out just so I could add it back in as post for NaBloPoMo. Though it did help, as I was having trouble coming up with one for today.

Avast, Ye Babies!

2007-11-05T22:34:00.000-05:00

We now have a small collection of children’s books about pirates. The latest (Shiver Me Letters: A Pirate ABC) was thoughtfully given to us by Auntie Samantha over the weekend. The first (How I Became a Pirate) was actually given to me by Frema a few years back, and the second (The Night Pirates) was purchased by us when we were out buying other baby items.

OK, so three books is not quite a library, but it is plenty for a child not yet out of the womb. They've all been read to her already, and I am sure she's heard a quite few other pirate references as her mother is often subjected to them. Hopefully, our baby doesn’t come out with scurvy when she’s born.

Waste Not, Want Not

2007-11-04T11:53:00.000-05:00

Having house guests over the weekend, I decided to make breakfast and put on a big pot of coffee this morning. However, there was just one tablespoon of beans left after I measured out enough for the grinder. What to do with that last little bit became far too big of a conundrum for Sunday morning.

I could have added it to the grinder and have stronger coffee that morning. But I began to worry that our guests aren't huge coffee drinkers and may not like it, as it was already a somewhat dark roast anyway. I could've saved it for the next brewing session, which will mean opening up a new bag of beans. And I have a weird thing about wanting to taste a new brew unadulterated, so no adding milk, sugar or mixing roasts. I could've just threw them away, though that would be wasting them without ever getting the chance to even be coffee.

Actually, this entire thought process only lasted about a minute and a half at the most. After which I just dumped them in the grinder and didn't even notice the coffee being really stronger at all.

And the Band Played On...

2007-11-03T11:10:00.000-04:00

Frema and I went to see Tori Amos last night here in Indy, which will likely be our last concert for quite a while, as the baby is due next month and our money and time will be going towards other things. Although I hadn't really listened to her at all for several years, it was a good show.

But she did what every band and performer I can remember seeing in concert always does, pretend to be done with the show and let the audience cheer for awhile before coming back out on stage. I suppose by this point it's an expected part of every show, but it seems like another song or two could be worked in if they just kept playing. I'm too lazy this morning to research the origins of the encore, but I have no doubt that it was very exciting for those first audiences to actually be surprised when their favorite musician returned to the stage after being so touched by the adulation that they had to come back out and give them just a little more of a show.

I often wonder if the audience would be let down if they did forgo the whole encore song and dance. And I know that sometimes shows bomb and end early, but I also ponder if there are bands out there who go think, "Oh, they just aren't cheering enough, we should just go. They don't want to hear any more from us," and just turn on the house lights to end the evening.

In any event, I like to think if I had a band, we'd just keep playing.

'Ello, Guvna!

2007-11-02T07:23:00.000-04:00

Have you ever had a really annoying song stuck in your head for days that somehow just popped in there without even hearing it? It gets even worse when you can remember all the words, and you are either forced to make up new ones or repeat the same few lines that you recall over and over again. I've had what I think is the chorus of the chimney sweep song from Mary Poppins going on like a broken record since Wednesday (the part that goes "chim-chiminey, chim-chiminey, chim-chim-charoo..."). And I don't even like the movie.

Playing the radio or listening to the recorded tunes we have around the house haven't rid me of this affliction. Now, I could look up the lyrics and at least know the rest of the song, but I fear that would only make it worse. No, I think the only solution to such a problem is to actually hear the song in its entirety. And I am not likely to come across that particular tune in everyday life. My only hope is to hear an especially catchy jingle, lest I pick up a cockney accent from the constant repetition of the few lines I know.

It Couldn't Have Been the Fear Factor

2007-11-01T07:38:00.000-04:00

Once again we didn't have any trick-or-treaters for Halloween this year. The lack of kids in costume coming to our door was most likely to due the fact that we live in an apartment complex and not because our pirate pumpkin we set out on our stoop was so scary it frightened all the children away. However, we did have candy in case they did drop by. We didn't want to be those people.

No Time Like the Present

2007-10-30T00:24:00.000-04:00

In an effort to force myself back into regular blogging, I have just joined the National Blog Posting Month efforts, otherwise known as NaBloPoMo. I don't have to start just yet, as the month in question is November, but here's a short one just to get back into the swing of things before there's something actually at stake. Heck, I'll even include a picture.

Frema and I spent most of Sunday washing baby clothes and arranging the nursery in preparation of when our daughter finally arrives. Although the onesies and little outfits are adorable, what I can't get over is how little the socks we bought her are. Somehow they are even cuter being just regular white tube socks for babies than some sort of cutesy variety. Even though they are not even 1/10 the size of my own white tube socks, they're just like grownup socks except for tiny, little feet. Which will soon be filling those socks in six weeks (or possibly less).

Avast, Ye Lubbers and Scurvy Dogs!

2007-09-19T11:51:00.000-04:00

As tempting as it might be on Talk Like a Pirate Day, I am not going to write a whole post in "Piratese." However, I would like to clarify something for many out there who just seem to get some things just plain wrong. The common pirate expletive is "ARRRRRR!" and not "ARRRRGH!" Unless, that is, you're talking about a pirate dropping a cannonball on his foot, then it's perfectly acceptable.

But then I also doubt that real pirates went around saying the former at the end of most sentences as they are frequently portrayed. On the other hand, real pirates were often murderous thieves who most likely were much less fun than the popular folklore variety, so nevermind and just say whatever floats your boat today, mateys. Arrrrrrr...

A Limited View

2007-08-31T21:55:00.000-04:00

I've never actually been to the Grand Canyon, though it's a trip I have long dreamed of taking. In fact, I like to check on it now and then just to be sure it hasn't gone anywhere. As a regular mid-morning ritual, I like to stop by the National Park Service's air quality monitoring webcam from Yavapani Point to view the canyon as the sun is just coming up out in the Mountain time zone where the famous national landmark resides.

Although I have never actually been there, I did fly over the Grand Canyon once. I was traveling to the Los Angeles area for work and had a connecting flight from Dallas to Burbank. Not long after taking my window seat, the pilot got on the PA and welcomed the passengers aboard, mentioning that we should have a good view of the Grand Canyon. Not wanting to miss it, I followed the scenery below carefully just after the announcement, even though I knew it would be a little while before we were over northwestern Arizona.

As I watched the ground below, we flew over many crags and crevices, and I kept wondering if they were it or at least a part of it. I had seen many pictures, but I wasn't sure how it would look from the air or if we'd be seeing only a portion of it. Eventually, we did pass right over the Southern Rim, and as soon as I saw it I felt silly for thinking any of those earlier cracks in the dirt could've been the Grand Canyon. Someday I'll actually stand at the edge and watch look out over the vast expanse of the world wonder, but that may be a long time from now as there are more pressing matters to worry about (like the impending arrival of our firstborn). In the meantime, I suppose I'll have to be happy with the view afforded me by the World Wide Web and the National Park Service.

The Finder of Lost Things

2007-08-24T08:50:00.000-04:00

I was almost early to work today, but instead I ended up coming in late. But not because I was lazy or trying to stick it to the Man. I simply couldn't find my wallet. Had I left it near my keys and watch where I normally would've put it the night before, I would've been on my way without a thought about it. In fact, I didn't even realize that I didn't pick it up with the rest of my stuff on the way out the door until I was getting in the car. As you shouldn't drive without a license on hand, I went back inside to try to find it. I tore apart every room in the apartment, but not actually looking on my computer desk where it was under some papers I had printed out last night.

I hate to be a stereotypical husband/father who can't find anything around the house on his own, but that seems to be the case. Normally, when I can't find anything I enlist Frema's aid in the quest, who normally finds the personal effects that I can't seem to locate. She systematically breaks down its possible locations until the missing item has been recovered. Sadly, she was out of town last night and this morning for her first gig as an adjunct professor, leaving me to my own devices.

I think that part of the problem is the fact that I almost always put things in a usual place. If I always put them there, they wouldn't be a problem to find. My things would always be there to be found. Or if I never put them in the same place, I wouldn't become confused when things are out of order and my stuff is not where I usually leave it. But that's where the problem lies; I need a Finder of Lost Things because I only "usually" put things in a particular spot not every single time.

Fortunately, I did eventually find it and was only actually 10 minutes late to work. Maybe on Monday, I'll try my new policy of putting my effects in different locations all the time. Then I have to remember where they are rather than just assuming they are where I usually put them.

Back to the Present

2007-08-22T19:40:00.001-04:00

Until very recently, I was one of the last few hold-outs to not have a cell phone. With the baby on the way, Frema thought it best that I should change that and join the Modern Age to be more easily reached as the due date looms closer. I still have yet to actually use it, though I did call Frema twice from our living room to test it out. Currently, only Frema and a few family members have the number, which will remain a closely guarded secret, as there are some parties out there I really don't want to be that accessible to; it's bad enough they have our land-line number.

What? No, I am not talking about you, Internet. The people I am referring to only use the Web for activities considered somewhat less scrupulous than reading blogs.

Regardless, now that I have this cellular phone I feel as though I should use it. Not while driving or when I am in the movie theater, but we are paying for it, and as long as I don't go over our monthly shared minutes, I don't want to waste the money not using it. Sure, it will be very useful when I travel for work, but that's only three or four days a month, and I don't have any trips scheduled until next week. And I suppose it is good to have on hand in case I ever break down, which seems to be more and more likely each time I get in my aging, creaking automobile.

In the meantime, I suppose I could try to find a nifty ringtone to jazz up the experience of just owning a cell phone. Right now I am debating between the Super Mario Bros. theme and a clip of "White & Nerdy" by "Weird Al" Yankovic. So what's your ringtone?

(Not So) Big Winner

2007-08-13T17:36:00.000-04:00

Despite my having won the lottery on Saturday, I still returned to work today. Not because of my wanting to contribute to society or employee loyalty. It was more out of necessity, as I only picked three numbers out of the six, a one in 53.45 probability. While I did not win the $42 million jackpot, I did get $3 out of the deal, which technically makes me a winner of the lottery (just not the BIG winner).

Unfortunately, I still did not come out ahead, as I spent $4 when I bought my "winning" ticket, picking one set of numbers and another three sets of computer-generated quick picks. So now I am left to ponder whether to cut my losses and pocket the three bucks or let it ride with three more tickets. After all, at $42.5 million, the jackpot for the Hoosier Lotto is now the highest amount in Hoosier Lottery history. Though the odds of winning are still lousy at one in 12,271,512.

However, as it was actually the numbers chosen by me and not the computer that proved to be winners, I am not letting the state pick my numbers anymore should I choose to play again this week. Not that there's a lot that you can do with $3 these days, but at least I wouldn't be a sucker again and pay more taxes to the State of Indiana than legally required.

Recession

2007-08-09T18:20:00.001-04:00

Going to the dentist this year—far many more visits than the average American makes in eight months—has been so much fun that it should be illegal. And my experiences have yielded a few lessons that I hope others can still learn from. The first being, don't wait 10 years to get a check up, who knows what cavities could be lurking in the crevices of your molars and bicuspids?Although I only had a few cavities that were all pretty shallow, it was my first experience with the infamous drill and fillings.

The second lesson is more subtle and could be a difficult one for some to learn. Don't brush too hard. No, really. I'm serious. Even with a soft-bristle brush as I have always used, you can damage your gums. It turns out that the repeated scrubbing I thought was more effectively removing plaque was not really doing any better of a job than proper brushing, but the worst part was that it caused the gums to recede over some of my teeth. So bad on the left side that a root was exposed and hurt when drinking or eating anything cold. Thus, yesterday, I had gum surgery to repair the damage I had done over the years.

Apparently, dentists used to take grafts from another part of your mouth and sew them on to the surrounding gums to fill in the gap. While they don't do that anymore, they instead stick some AlloDerm to the root, then work your existing gums down over that and sew it all in place with a few stitches. Like I said, "fun." And unlike having my wisdom teeth out, I was completely awake for the whole thing. While I felt no pain, I could feel the pulling, prodding, and stretching of the gums, and it was rather difficult to block out the images of what must have been going on in my mouth while the work was being done.

Today, I am a little sore, but the pain is kept in check with just OTC meds, and I don't need the heavier drugs they left me a script with. As part of a laundry list of post-op care instructions, I am restricted from drinking any hot beverages for a few days. Which means no coffee. Not real coffee anyway. I tried making iced coffee at work this morning, but it just melted the ice and left me with watery, lukewarm, bland brown liquid. Ugh. That's even less fun than gum surgery.

My Baby's Momma

2007-07-31T18:47:00.000-04:00

I came to the realization the other day that I could tell the baby "your mom" jokes, and it would be making fun of Frema. Despite being an avid fan of such humor herself, she was not very amused. But we'll have to see if I get away with it when the opportunity actually comes up.

Her Very Own Room

2007-07-30T17:30:00.000-04:00

Despite getting caught up in all the Harry Potter hoopla, taking recent trips to Rocky Mountain National Park and the French Quarter of New Orleans, and discovering that my child will be a daughter, I have not worked up the gumption to actually blog about any of these subjects. Though I considered each of them in detail. However, the reality of my impending fatherhood is weighing more and more heavily on my mind, and I thought I'd share a few thoughts with the few readers who still stop by here now and then.

Seeing the baby (although only blurry bits of her) during the ultrasound three weeks ago really drove home the point that there is a little person growing inside Frema, who if we could see clearly would look like just that. A little person. Freaky. Apparently, though, it still wasn't a blogworthy subject at the time. Plus, Frema covered it all quite well. So that's my excuse for being a lazy blogger who can't even post an ultrasound picture with the headline "It's a Girl!"

Over the weekend, my dad and I put together the crib that my parents were nice enough to buy for their second granddaughter. And now we have a tangible, constant reminder that there will be a baby in that room. (Don't worry, we will have the mattress in place before the baby is actually sleeping there.) Sure there was already some random baby items in there, but we've also been using the room to store random boxes in that had yet to discover a home of their own. Now, there is a place for the baby to sleep as well as the old dresser I had used that my parents brought in at the same time as the crib. Thus, it looks quite a bit more like a nursery than a mostly empty room we kept a few things in that we might need when we have a baby someday. Instead, it is becoming steadily clearer that "someday" is looming right around the corner. Right quick. Boy, howdy.

Addendum: To answer a few comments, here's a picture of the dresser to the right:

Also, New Orleans was interesting. I had driven through the outskirts of town a few months ago and saw a lot of storm damage. But this time I had to go through some of the inner city to get to the French Quarter, and many neighborhoods looked completely abandoned and were just crumbling. But there was also a lot of construction going on in some parts of the area that are seeing renewal.

Finally, why can't girls like G.I. Joe, Transformers, and Star Wars (not to mention all kinds of video games)? It's not really fair to confine them to boring toys like Strawberry Shortcake and Polly Pockets.

The Silent 'C'

2007-06-14T21:36:00.000-04:00

Ah, vacation, your short but full life ended at least a day or two too soon. And I am left wondering when the next time we'll be able to take some time to get away and not have any real responsibilities for a while, hopefully to see something both exciting and new. Although I travel frequently for work, there's a big difference between going some place because you want to and because you have to. And after spending just a few days on Mackinac Island, I find myself cringing when I hear people at work mispronouncing the name when they ask me how my trip went. (Despit the "c" at the end, it's pronounced MACK-IN-AWE, by the way, but is not to be confused with Mackinaw City on mainland Michigan.)

Though Frema and I broke up the trip north over two days with some interesting stops at Ludington and Sleeping Bear Dunes National Lakeshore, the main focus of our journey was to stay on (the expensive) Mackinac Island, which is a major vacation destination for many Midwesterners and one I myself had been meaning to take for many years now. A big draw for many of the place is the fact that there are no cars allowed on the island; many people ride bicycles or take horse-drawn carriages to get where they need to go, most seem to walk, which is what we did for the most part.

Pregnant Frema was not comfortable with the prospect of bike-riding in her condition, but I had been wanting to ride all the way around the island. So I got up early and set out on the 8.2-mile-long M185. You probably wouldn't think an island sans motorized vehicles would have a state road, but it doesn't detract from the charm of the community, as it's only about 12 or so feet wide and is mostly populated by cyclists, who have to dodge the road apples that also appear as obstacles from time to time from the horse traffic. (Frema doesn't like the joke about that being the secret ingredient in all the fudge made on the island, but I am inclined to snicker at it.)

All manure aside, Mackinac Island is a wonderful vacation spot, and I really hope that we can make it back there as a family one day and all take the ride on 185 together. In the meantime, I have to resign myself to work travel, as I am heading back to the Rocky Mountain State again in a few weeks. The last time I was there I narrowly missed the blizzard that grounded many travelers flying out of Denver, but at least that won't be much of a worry in the summer.

Changing of the Guard

2007-05-25T13:09:00.000-04:00

I had originally planned to write a post about my tour of Alabama, Mississippi, and Louisiana. But procrastination set in and two weeks went by. Plus, I didn't do anything that memorable to type out. I saw a lot of swamp land and some of the lingering effects of 2005 hurricanes, especially in New Orleans, but I got most closely acquainted with the highways in the southern parts of those states. I did have some gumbo at a restaurant maybe 15 feet from a bayou, but that's about as local I really had time to get.

In more recent news, which is not any more poignant in the slightest, I changed the mascot that guards my keys. Sadly, the Lego pirate captain that Frema had bought for me did not age well. His stoic painted-on face and beard had rubbed off, and his hook-hand fell off and went missing months ago. I figured it was finally time to let him retire. In his place, comes another Lego key mascot, one that is actually older than the pirate, though apparently made of seemingly sturdier stock, as I had him on my keys for at least as long as the pirate before replacing him with a slightly tattered cape as the only sign of wear. At least his face can't wear away, as it is protected by his helmet.

I am not throwing away the pirate captain — though he may deserve a burial at sea for his year and a half of loyal service. Still, the displaced keyring has sentimental value. On the night I proposed to Frema, she had just got back from a trip to Minneapolis, where she stopped by the Mall of America and visited its Lego store and purchased the pirate. During the proposal, you might say we exchanged rings, even if one was a keyring. So, I have thus placed the pirate without any keys to guard in the box that I keep many other knickknacks, as I turn to the Dark Side now to watch over my keys.

Pilgrimage

2007-05-09T00:08:00.000-04:00

I really should be sleeping up before my flight in the morning, but I am restless tonight. I often get like so the day before I have to travel and end up sitting up in bed thinking about how I should be really trying to close my eyes more tightly. I figured I'd hammer out a few quick ramblings instead.

I had actually been meaning to post about my most recent trip to Massachusetts, but there wasn't much interesting to tell about it. I fly into Boston and drove around the metropolitan area for two days. I didn't see much more than the highways, other than a brief stop by Plymouth and its famous rock. I'll let you decide if it lives up to all the hype you heard in elementary school.

Early tomorrow morning I depart again, less than two weeks since my trip to New England. This time I am heading down to a tour of the coastal areas around the Gulf of Mexico and New Orleans. I've heard that it is a somewhat sad area right now, as there is still a lot of rebuilding going on from the hurricane devastation late in the summer of 2005. I hope to at least gain a new appreciation for what I have in my own life.

Speaking of which, Frema and I went to the doctor today and heard our baby's heart beat for the first time. Whoa... It sounded somewhat like I thought it might, but it was much more amazing to hear than I figured it would. And I really can't say much more than that. Partly due to fatigue and a little bit more due to my lacking of the appropriate words right now.

End of a Lousy Three-Day Weekend

2007-04-23T12:19:00.000-04:00

At 33 I still have my wisdom teeth, though they're no longer in my head, and I now keep them in a little bag. I actually had them extracted on Friday and have been dealing with the after effects all weekend. Most people have them removed much earlier in life, but like many things I put it off for far too long.

For some reason, I didn't think that I'd get to keep them, but the dentist offered to let me take them home after I asked to see them. Frema thinks it's gross, but I don't think they even look like real teeth. Besides, I've been pretty attached to them for over a decade now. And I may yet put them under my pillow. Just for nostalgia's sake, you know.

The procedure itself went well without any complications, and I am steadily recovering for the most. I was given a prescription to kill most of the pain, but I was still bleeding after I ran out of the gauze they gave me. At that point, you're supposed to bite on damp teabags for an hour, which is kind of like drinking a cold cup of tea that's been steeping for a good 72 hours or so. Plus, it didn't occur to me that decaffeinated tea might have been a better choice of bags, because that's a whole lot of caffeine with a direct line into my bloodstream through the holes in my head. At the same time my pain meds made me feel sleepy, so I was left with a constant state of wired fatigue mixed in with bouts of restlessness after being cooped up for most of what would have otherwise been a three-day weekend for me.

Today, I am trying to make a go of it sans drugs, in hopes of staying coherent for work as well as being able to drive there safely. I'm at home for lunch now, so the day's half over already and so far it's not going too. Still, it's a bit tempting to call in and say I'm having a relapse and need to stay here for the afternoon. I could stay home and try to put my teeth back in. You know, for fun.

Where Does the Time Go?

2007-04-09T22:56:00.000-04:00

Since I've become a rather random and sporadic blogger the only people who stop by here anymore already know the big news, but Frema told me that I had to blog about it anyway. A bundle of joy is coming into our lives in what is now less than nine months. In fact, as soon as we found out via a series of home pregnancy tests that were checked and rechecked for accuracy, we went to an online due-date calculator. It informed us that our baby would likely come on Dec. 10 and Frema was three weeks a long. Fine. OK. That's still a long way off.

Frema went to her OB/GYN office a few days later and was told she was actually about six weeks into her pregnancy. We only found out and we already lost out a month and a half of that prep time. I guess it never dawned on me that the nine months doesn't really start from the moment you find out, especially since that moment only left us with seven and a half months to prepare.

Wow.

The Crack of Dawn

2007-04-02T21:46:00.000-04:00

Ah, Michigan. The Great Lakes State. I got back from Oscoda late Saturday night and was dead tired for a few days. Though where I was staying was right on Lake Huron (the lake you would've jumped into), I didn't do any swimming. I did get a little wet, as it rained much of the time I was up north. Well, it more misted than really rained, but it made it seem all the more cold as I always felt slightly damp and unable to stay dry.

Although I actually like Michigan a lot, most of the time I am there for any length of time it seems to be raining. Frema and I took a weekend trip to St. Joseph a few years ago and it poured the whole time. It rained when we drove through the state and stayed overnight in Port Huron on our way to Niagara Falls for our honeymoon. And of course, this time around it was gloomy and drizzling. OK, so saying it rained most of the time I've been to Michigan is exaggerating a bit, as I have been over the northern Indiana border for many a sunny and bright daytrip. I can say, however, that the overnight stays have been on wet days.

Sadly, the clouds not only brought rain, they also got in the way of my plans to watch the sunrise over Lake Huron one morning. Sure I got to see some of the changing colors, but I never did see the actual sun come up over the water. This is as close as it came to peaking out, which was actually almost worth getting up before sunup. Almost.

Ready...BREAK!

2007-03-29T22:19:00.000-04:00

When you don't blog for a long time there's a lot of pressure to write something really, really good. But such entries after a hiatus usually end up being about "What I Did Over My Blogger's Break," or they turn out to be several paragraphs of "Oh, I haven't written in so long..." Well, I don't have to explain myself to you Internet! What don't you get off my back about it!

Sadly, I don't have much more to say than those sorts of things right now anyway, so maybe I'll write more when I get back from Michigan. I'd tell you more about that, but it's for work and nothing all that interesting. But maybe I'll run into you, if you happen to be up in Oscoda over the next two days. That's right. Oscoda. If you don't like it, go jump in the lake.

Best Laid Plans

2007-02-23T12:48:00.000-05:00

Ah, it's so good to be home. I've been a bit down on Indianapolis lately, and there's nothing like a business trip to make you appreciate where you live. My journeys this time around took me through North Carolina, the northwest corner of South Carolina, and Georgia. Although I was able to get everything done that I set out to do in two days, getting there and back turned out to be quite the ordeal. In fact, it seemed for a while that I might not make it out of Indianapolis at all. I was all set to leave on my morning flight, which was originally scheduled for a 6:10 a.m. departure on Delta flight 6414 Wednesday morning. Within minutes of being there it was delayed to 6:40 a.m. The agent at the gate assured me that I'd still have time to make my connecting flight in Cincinnati that would take me to Charlotte, so I continued to wait. Soon after, it was delayed again to 7:10 a.m., then 7:40 a.m., 8:10 a.m., 8:40, and so on.

The fog was apparently so terrible at the Cincinnati/Northern Kentucky International Airport (CVG)—which is actually in Florence, Kentucky—that they weren't letting planes land there. My flight was again delayed a few more times, and I was switched to a later-morning one out of Cincinnati. I continued to wait, and my flight from Indy was given delayed a total of 10 times before they had a definite departure time. However, while all that was going on, all the flights from Cincinnati to Charlotte were already in the air, as while they weren't letting planes land at CVG, they were letting them take off. I was eventually bumped to another airline that could get me on a direct trip to Charlotte, but it wasn't leaving until 1:45 p.m. Yea.

Fortunately, Frema works near the airport and came to pick me up for a little while after I had received my new boarding pass on US Airways. During that time I was able to make the calls to rearrange all my appointments, book a different hotel than the one I had first reserved, since my route for this adventure had to be drastically altered, and print out all new driving directions. Despite spending a little time at her office, I still spent a total of eight hours at the airport before I even left Indianapolis. At least I knew it would be warmer once was finally able to fly south. Even if I had brought my trunks, the pool at my hotel was closed and really not in any state to be swam in. But I was able to leave my jacket in the rental car the whole trip.

I stayed at an area somewhat near the coast three hours east of my first stop in Charlotte, so I could make my next stop bright and early. On my way to there, I realized I was a little more than an hour from the Atlantic Ocean. If I planned it better I might have tried get up even earlier to drive out and watch the sunrise, but time wasn't on my side that day anyway. I had an 8 a.m. appointment to keep and many hours of driving before my appointment in Georgia that afternoon, not mention making it all the way down to Atlanta to fly back.

Despite the many highway patrol cars I spotted, I made good time on my way to the Peach State and planned to stop in Athens for a breather and a bite to eat. Sadly, my final scheduled appointment in Danielsville, GA, took a lot longer than I thought it would and had to continue on straight to Atlanta, where traffic ate up nearly all my cushion for making the flight, especially since my return trip ticket was screwed up when I had to switch airlines and had to wait in the checking-in line, rather than go to one of the self-help kiosks. Luckily, I still had my original receipt and was able to get my boarding pass reissued with that and being extra polite and making a sad, tired face while dealing with the ticket agent. Plus, I had been wearing a pirate shirt that Frema got me for my birthday under my business casual attire for extra luck. In case you didn't know, pirates are lucky, especially ones with two eyepatches and a pipe. Thus, I packed it knowing I might need some better fortune on this trip.

Needless to say I made it back home safe and sound. I am not looking forward to the next time I have to go anywhere. But for now I am going to enjoy being in one place.

Inside Out

2007-02-13T19:32:00.000-05:00

Just in time for the big snow storm came our first rental from Blockbuster Online, which is good because I was really tired of watching news about the weather. My office closed down at noon, and Frema decided to not risk the roads for the commute. Our after-work time had greatly increased, so Adam Sandler and Click helped us fill some of it. On a regular day, a movie would've been our whole evening, but now it was only a fraction of our time. I don't quite have cabin fever, but we already watched our movie and now have the rest of the evening to try to figure out something to do. Normally, after work neither she nor I would have any troubles figuring out what to do with ourselves. But tonight is different; we're snowed in. Still, it's not really the extra time that's making me itch being at home. If we actually had time off and weren't stuck inside, I'd have little problem just staying in, but now that we can't go out it's what I desperately want to do. But at least we have an inside to be in. There's a large homeless population in the city who don't always have the option of going inside. Then there's the crazy ducks that live around our complex's retention pond that refuse to fly south. The water has a very small portion of it that's liquid they seem to congregate around. In fact, I think the only reason it hasn't frozen over is that the ducks swim around in shifts to keep it flowing.

Untrustworthy Rodent

2007-02-05T12:47:00.000-05:00

Never trust a groundhog. Not only did he lie about the weather, he fooled the first robin of spring into coming back well before time, spotted outside our apartment this morning. On Friday, the varmint did not see his shadow and predicted an early spring. So far it seems he was dead wrong, as it has bitter cold every day since then. We've even received a little more snow and more is in the forecast. But we can all go inside, bundle up in warmer clothes, and enjoy a nice cup of hot cocoa when it's too cold out to do much else. The poor robins are stuck outside. Lousy groundhog.

Great...

2007-02-04T22:34:00.000-05:00

I admit that I'm not a huge football fan, but I did want the Bears to win the Super Bowl tonight, even though I've been living in Indianapolis for a year and a half. I grew up about a half hour from the Chicago city limits and remember all the excitement when they won back in 1986. Their song, "The Super Bowl Shuffle," even made to No. 41 on Billboard. Plus, I remember how fun it was to watch the big game with my dad after all the excitement buzzing around the team that year. And as a kid it was really easy to get caught up in all of it.

I can't say I caught the same fever with the Colts this year. Frema, who is a Chicago native, decided the root for the Colts tonight and was ecstatic when they won. My office, typically a rather reserved place of work, went crazy on Friday and even had a midday pep rally. I can't imagine what it will be like to go in tomorrow. Now they'll be talking about the game for weeks to come. Not just at work but all over the metropolitan area. If the Bears had won, they would've just grumbled for a day and that would've been the end of it. There's going to be no living with this city for a while.

Still, it was fun to watch the game having ties to both teams, and the executive director of the organization I work for did say that the office wouldn't open until 9 a.m. on Monday if the Colts won. So at least I get to go in a little later tomorrow morning.

The Most Important Meal of the Day

2007-02-01T08:19:00.000-05:00

If only I had not skipped breakfast. Sometimes I irrationally feel if I miss a part of my normal routine, it's going to put a negative spin on rest of the day. And as I walked out the door without my usual bowl of cereal in the morning, I told the voice in the back of my head to keep quiet because nothing was going to happen.

Actually, I did manage to have breakfast this morning, but I initially didn't leave myself enough time to do it. After my car died on the way to work just a few blocks out from our apartment and I was forced to walk back home, I figured I might as well get something to eat after calling in. I mean, I'm already late for work.

Fortunately, I was able to get a neighbor to jump it and get it going. I'm now letting it run for a bit in hopes that will encourage it to keep going. While it's warming up, I'm enjoying a nice bowl of Frosted Mini-Wheats. Now if I hadn't been in such a rush to get out the door, I would've gone down and started my car, then came back and ate breakfast, giving it ample time to warm up and not stall out. I suppose that I now get to start my day over in a way. Hopefully, I won't be back in to add anything else to this entry. At least not until the end of the workday anyway.

On Such a Winter's Day

2007-01-25T18:12:00.000-05:00

Well, I made it back to the Midwest safely, though my trip to Southern California was not without incident. Towards the end of the first day, I dropped the work camera, and broke the part that attaches the lens to the body. It still kind of worked, if I held the lens on tightly whilst shooting, but that proved to be a tough method to get any shots that would be suitable for publication. When I called Frema back home to commiserate my mishap, she suggested I go ahead and buy a camera for our personal use that I could use for work while still out in Los Angeles, as we had been contemplating buying a new one, anyway. So I used that for the remainder of my time out west and just packed up the barely-working, expensive digital SLR work camera.

Much of the rest of trip was spent the rest of the trip worrying about what would happen when I got back. I knew I wouldn't get fired, but I didn't want to get in trouble, either. Instead, I just got made fun of a little by my boss. I guess I worked for crappy employers for far too long at the newspaper back in Rensselaer and got used to expecting the worst from those who sign paychecks. I need to give my current employers more credit in the future.

I wish that I had more interesting stories to tell of the journey, but I spent most of the time on the freeway, trying to get to the places I needed to go for work. You hear stories about the traffic and the roads there, but they don't compare to the arduous task of getting around the LA metropolitan area. I had all of my routes carefully mapped out well with estimated travel times from MapQuest, but what I didn't know when I was planning this trip is that from about 7 a.m. to 10 a.m. and 3 p.m. to 7 p.m. or so, you have to quadruple that number to know how long it will really take to get where you're going.

Although I didn't see any celebrities or take a stroll down the Walk of Fame, I did glimpse the famed HOLLYWOOD sign from the road. I also took a short side trip to Santa Monica at the end of my last day out there to see the ocean. Not having a lot of time nor the proper attire for swimming, I stuck my hand in the water to say I've been in the Pacific. I also took a walk up and down the Santa Monica Pier, which has been a location for various movies and television shows. But it really just reminded me of a smaller, cleaner version of the Atlantic City boardwalk sans casinos, stray cats, and street names that inspired Monopoly spaces. I did stop and watch a few outdoor performances, including a "one-man band" who advertised himself as being on both Jimmy Kimmel Live and America's Got Talent.

Now that I'm in Indiana again, I have to reacclimate myself to winter. I was only there three days and got used to not wearing a coat, though I saw many Californians in cold-weather gear who seemed to think that temperatures in the mid-60s were chilly. I suppose it's all relative, but I still couldn't help thinking that they were wusses. Not that I, myself, especially enjoyed being outside while scraping the frost and ice off my car this morning, either.

Swimming Pools, Movie Stars

2007-01-21T16:23:00.000-05:00

Ah, the first entry of the year and the second snow. The first was a few days ago. We got about an inch or so here in Indy, and that lasted maybe until sometime in the afternoon before it was pretty much melted. It looks like most of what we got last night and this morning may stick around for a while, but for at least the next few days I won't be here to see it.

I am flying out at 6:30 a.m. tomorrow for my first trip ever to the West Coast, specifically the Los Angeles Metropolitan Area. Of course, this is for work, and I won't have much time to do much else. Still, I am really hoping that I can at least make it down to the Pacific at the end of one of my days there, even if it's to just watch the sunset over the ocean. I'll only be there for a few days, but if I don't return, I either found a part in a movie or am still stuck in traffic. Or there were snakes on my plane. Otherwise, I'll be back in the Midwest on Wednesday night.

Down and Back, Not Stuck in Snow

2006-12-22T08:22:00.000-05:00

It could have been a very different week for me. Last week I had to fly out to the Denver area for work, and this week I was in South Carolina, though for just a day. The most interesting thing about the latter trip was to get to where I needed to be (Greenville) didn't have a direct flight from Indianapolis, so I had a layover in Cincinnati there and back, meaning I was on a total of four planes in one day. But as I said this week could have turned out very differently.

There was a chance I could have went to Colorado this week and to South Carolina last week, as the scheduling for some appointments almost worked out that way. If that had happened, I'd still be in Denver now and possibly into the holiday weekend. The Denver International Airport closed on Wednesday and is slated to reopen sometime today, but by then more than 2,000 flights had been canceled. I probably would've made it back for Christmas, but I likely would've been much less merry.

Fortunately, things did not work out as such, and instead of being caught in a blizzard, I was down south in 72-degree weather at the same time Denver was getting blanketed by two feet of snow. While there wasn't anything as impressive as the Rocky Mountains to see where I went this time around, my trip there went without almost incident and I made it home to my wife rather than sleeping on a cold airport floor.

The only real incident to speak of was actually my fault. I was a little clumsy after the flight attendant handed me my in-flight beverage of apple juice and spilled it all over my lap. Though I was dry by the time I landed — thus avoiding the embarrassment of looking like I wet myself as I waited for my next flight — I still spent a rather uncomfortable 45 minutes in the air. But all and all, I'm glad that's all the happened and feel lucky to just been a little damp than stranded away from home.

And with a Week to Spare

2006-12-18T07:05:00.000-05:00

More than a week ago, we got our Christmas boxes out of storage, and I put up the tree sans ornaments. This was not a difficult task as it's a pre-lit tree that has the wires intertwined with the branches. Not only does that save on the time/hassle of untangling strings of lights, it makes the tree come pretty much put together. Frema and I have both been busy with work (I haven't been in the state some of that time), so we didn't get much farther than that the all-but-three-minute task of popping up the tree. We didn't even plug it in most of the time so it was not even as festive as it could've been, if not a little bit of a downer. So while Frema was in Chicago over the weekend, I finished the tree for her to see when she came home. Maybe I'll put some presents under it for her soon, too.

Rocky Mountain High

2006-12-17T20:39:00.000-05:00

Last week I flew out to Denver to visit some communities in and around the Rocky Mountains for work. I've been meaning to write about the trip for several days now, but after sitting down to type out my thoughts on the jaunt it didn't turn out to be that interesting of a time. Though it did have some potential. The first day took me to Estes Park, which sits right outside Rocky Mountain National Park. My workday ended that day with about an hour and a half worth of daylight, so I thought I might drive into the park see what I could see while I was in the area. However, a few things kept me from going on any treks through craggy grounds. For one thing I was hardly wearing the proper footwear. Low-traction boat shoes are not all that great for walking on flat ground, and I image there even worse in the mountains. Also, it turns out there's a $20 entrance fee to the park. Sure, it's good for seven days, but I had to be elsewhere in the region for the rest of my stay in Colorado, so that was $20 for less than two hours of time in the light, and I didn't want to wander around in the Rockies in my bad footwear after dark anyway. I hope to go back someday. Perhaps when it's warmer, and I'm better prepared for hiking and driving.

My rental car, which in my defense was not the one I chose, turned out to be a terrible vehicle for winding, mountain roads, aside for being way to small for someone who's six-foot-four. Yes, the Plymouth Crossfire is a very nice car, but I barely fit in the two-seater. When they said there was a problem with my original selection, a Chevy Malibu, they offered to upgrade me to a luxury model. I was deep into the mountains before the dazzle wore off and I realized I should have asked for something roomier and less expensive, as my knees cramped up and I narrowly avoided trucks that would come barreling around corners, not worrying about what lane they end up in. Still, it was a nice car, just not exactly made for mountain driving. On Tuesday I have to go South Carolina, but I've already reserved a larger car and will only encounter rolling hills, anyway.

A Sharp Decision

2006-12-10T17:22:00.000-05:00

I've never thought of myself as having commitment issues, but I stood there pondering my options unable to make a decision in the razor aisle, trying to determine which new avenue I should take after using an electric model for several years. My motorized facial hair removal system is on the fritz, and new ones can really cost you some scratch, so I thought I'd give the old blade a shot again for a while. But not only do you have to make the initial purchase of the razor, most brands only come with two replacement blades, and some of those can be pretty pricey themselves.

I've gotten used to not having to lather up my face and drag a sharpened object across it, and I hadn't really been paying attention to the many choices that have developed in the manual shaving industry. There seems to be a steady increase of how many blades can fit onto a quarter-inch space, the most I've seen being six with five on the front and a trimming blade on the back. Being a sucker for gimmicks, I was tempted to pick up this shiny number, but I was ultimately deterred by the cost of the replacement blades: a whopping 12 bucks for four. I was almost also wooed by the lure of a titanium option, which was a skosh less expensive, and its marketing propaganda promised less irritation, but I was also a little intimidated by the prospect of swiping super-sharp, hard-metal blades all over my face. There was also a model that had supposed "cooling technology," but it didn't seem to be very different from what I could tell. Maybe there's dry ice packed into its moisture strip, but that wouldn't be very good for your skin, anyway. I was at least sure I wanted to rule out the motorized "power" blade that made the handle vibrate while you shave. I am not really sure what that is supposed to do, but it somehow just doesn't seem like a very good idea. Plus, you'd have to replace the batteries in addition to the blades.

Anyway, not wanting to commit to buying new replacement blades a few shopping trips later, I just opted for some old-fashioned disposables with a mere three blades. I'm fairly certain that if I'm very careful, I won't leave scars or disfigure myself, and I'll live to make a better decision on what razor to buy when these ones grow too dull. If not, I can just drop another five spot to get me by a few more months.

It's Not Quite Like Product Placement

2006-11-27T17:48:00.000-05:00

I enter a lot of contests online. In fact, it has become quite the hobby, by which I am hoping to hook a free vacation for Frema and me sometime soon. So far I have yet to win that all-inclusive trip to Hawaii that I've been trying for, but it hasn't been all for naught. I did win a prize package from the Illinois Bureau of Tourism. The department has a promotion for movies shot in the state, a recent one being The Break Up, which was shot in Chicago. The site actually promotes getaways to those locations, but for a while there was a contest to win the DVD, hat, and t-shirt. Frema had wanted to see the movie when it was out, and if I won, we wouldn't have to spend the money on the rental. I had long forgotten about the prospect of watching it for free when we rented the movie about a month ago, so it was a pretty big surprise when I got a box containing my winnings in the mail. When I first saw it was from the Illinois Bureau of Tourism, I thought I might have won us a trip to a swanky, downtown hotel in the Windy City or a bed and breakfast weekend in the rolling hills of southern Illinois, but I promptly remembered what I had entered and what I was actually winning.

While Frema definitely wants the DVD and says she will wear the shirt for pajamas, who really wears a movie hat or shirt out in public and is not a celebrity going to a press junket or talk-show interview to promote said film? We got them for free, but it's hard to imagine anyone purchasing such items to give free advertisement for the movie. I know that people do buy movie hats and shirts all the time, especially for ones like in the Star Wars saga or cult-classic type films, but it doesn't seem likely that angsty teens will be knocking each other down to get their The Break-Up gear from Hot Topic. But then I am getting older and just might not know what's cool anymore. If I ever did.

They Look Fine...

2006-11-16T13:24:00.001-05:00

Sometime last week our downstairs neighbor moved out. But as he was packing up to relocate, he bequeathed his stock of frozen personal-sized pizzas to Frema and me. I had returned home from work and was checking the mail out in the hallway when he came out and asked if I wanted a stack of sausage and pepperoni pies, as he was just going to throw them away if I didn't want them. We had never gotten to know him, though he lived right below our apartment, but I thought that was a nice thing to do, thanking him and wishing him well. He could've just tossed them and not bothered to see if anyone wanted them. When Frema got home, I told her off the encounter and showed her our new stash of pizza.

"Yeah, that was nice of him, but is it safe to eat them?" she asked in response.

"Sure, no one's going to give out poisoned frozen pizzas. They're fine," I replied with confidence.

However, when I came home for lunch the next day and thought about heating one of them up, I couldn't help but hear Frema saying in my head Is it safe? and consequently returned the pizza to the freezer. I did that twice actually, though I don't seriously think that the pizzas are tainted in any way.Now, Frema has been threatening to throw them away; they do take up quite a bit of space in the icebox. Still, FREE PIZZA! You can't throw away free pizza. It's weird, though, if we had bought the pizzas ourselves and decide there might be something wrong with them, we'd have little problem throwing them in the dumpster. But since they were given to us, they are somehow more valuable. Thus, I decided to have one for lunch today and ate about half of it, and so far I am still alive. But I'm debating as to whether or not to eat it all or save the rest as potential evidence.

Tires and Tribulations

2006-11-10T19:56:00.000-05:00

Today did not begin as I thought it might. Typically, I time my short commute to leave just in time to get into work and sit down at my desk right at 8 a.m., give or take a minute or two depending on traffic. However, some unseen events of the evening before resulted in my being two and a half hours late to work. As I started driving away from my usual parking space, I noticed the distinctive rumble and thumping associated with a flat tire. I immediately pulled over into the closest parking space to check on the tire I suspected had let me down and found it had did so in one of the worst ways possible.

I went upstairs to ask Frema, who had not left yet for the day, if she could drop me off on her own way to work. She said she would just work from home for the day and it was fine if I just wanted to take her vehicle. I kissed her good-bye for the second time that morning and made a new attempt at getting to the office. This time I made it a little bit out of the apartment complex parking lot before I started hearing that distinctive thumping sound again. I thought to myself that it couldn't be another flat on this car, too, but before going any further, I decided it would be best to check it out. I pulled over to a side road, got out to inspect the tires, and saw that Frema's rear driver-side tire was pretty low. I was hoping I'd just be able to throw the spare on and go about the day, planning to later fill the tire up at the gas station. But once I got the tire off to put on the spare, I noticed that a nail had worked its way all the way through the treads and shredded the area around itself. There was no way the tire was going to hold air if we tried to just put air in it and make our weekend plans of traveling north. Thus, after getting the spare on, a task that had me thinking of the opening sequence of The Incredible Hulk and David Banner's frustration with the task angered him to the point of transformation, we made an appointment at the local Tire Hut to have it replaced.

My boss was very understanding, noting that these kind of things happen to everyone at some point, so I didn't get in any trouble for being so late. But it still seems odd that both of our vehicles would have flats at the same time. I am left to wonder if someone in the building has a vendetta against us, but I can't imagine what we did to anyone here that would anger them to the point of revenge. For one thing, we're pretty quiet and don't bother anyone, but people don't usually stay long enough to really get a feud going. The summer and first part of fall had about half the apartments in the building filled with tenants on short-term leases for some company's project. They all moved out last month and all but one of the apartments are still empty. I suppose the flats were likely an unfortunate coincidence, but I suppose I should be watching my back for the remainder of our lease. Just in case.

But I Did Vote

2006-11-07T13:14:00.000-05:00

I did something today that I haven't done for two years. I voted. With all the negative campaigning that's gone on, I was tempted to say screw it and avoid the polls today altogether. But me not voting wouldn't have driven home any message against smear campaigns, so I went and cast my ballot for the people I thought best represented me and would hopefully do the best job in office. It wasn't like I could only vote for those candidates who didn't run any opponent-bashing ads because most candidates in a contested race slung mud with the worst of them at some point on the campaign trail. I've heard a few voters say they wish politicians would just say what they stood for and relayed what plans they'd have if elected and not attack the other so much, but it wasn't like you could say you were going to support the side that didn't resort to such tactics because they all did it.

Sadly, I didn't even got an "I VOTED" sticker, which I always received at the polling places back in Jasper County. In fact, I thought that the sticker was pretty standard for everywhere, but I suppose that is not the case. Thinking back, I don't recall getting one back in Lake County, but most of the time I voted there was through an absentee ballot. Thus, I am forced to go borrow something from elsewhere on the Web.

It's just as well I didn't get an actual sticker, though. I've been trying to avoid discussing politics with anyone in the office. At least as long as I'm still considered the new guy. I am fairly certain that my own political views don't mesh well with many of my co-workers and especially superiors, and wearing a sticker would be like a carrying a sign that says "Ask me who I voted for."

Happily Unfit for Print

2006-11-02T10:17:00.000-05:00

Despite what the above picture may look like, I was very happy that I took it, though it won't be published anywhere but on this blog. I had recently been sent into portions of southern Ontario and the Detroit area to get pictures for a trade magazine that the organization I work for puts out. While it's capable of taking very high-resolution pictures, we only have one digital SLR that the editorial department has to share for any assignments of importance. With frequent travel and handling, it seems to have become a bit temperamental. The picture was the first one that had snapped after the gadget seemed to be malfunctioning. After fiddling with the settings and turning it off and on again a few times, it seemed to be willing to cooperate again. The above picture was taken from my knees while sitting on a bench in Grosse Pointe, Michigan. I think it was either a gift shop or a woman's clothing boutique, but I wasn't too concerned with it as I was more worried about getting the camera working again. Aside from that the trip went pretty well, and I actually came back with some much better shots, one of which will grace the cover of the December issue of the magazine.

Sadly, I don't have any real adventures to share of the journey other than camera trouble, but that is really pretty harrowing when photo shoots are the whole reason you're taking the trip. Still, it was the first where I had to fly somewhere and fly back in the same day, and I have gained a whole new respect for people who have to deal with the staff of rental car companies on a regular basis.

A Jack-O-Lantern Well-Preserved

2006-10-31T15:59:00.000-05:00

Jack-o-lanterns don't typically last very long, and I've been surprised that ours has not yet decomposed into a orange wrinkled mass. Normally, we wouldn't carve any pumpkins until a few days before Halloween, but I attended a party that included a pumpkin-carving contest about a week and a half ago. Although my entry didn't win, other than a little internal mold and a few wrinkles, it is standing the test of time and is more than holding his basic shape. So far. I'm sure he'll be collapsing inward a few days after the holiday has passed. Luckily, it will get to live long enough to see this old age, as we're on the second floor and our balcony is out of reach from all but the most determined vandals looking to smash pumpkins in the street.

Although I did not win the contest, I did not come away from the soiree completely empty handed. The host has a good friend who works for a beer distribution company and donated several cases to the event, and as it was far more than he wanted imbibe, guests were asked to bring some of it with them as they left. Unfortunately, much of it consisted of cans of Keystone Light. In case you're unfamiliar with this beverage, it is both watery and unpleasant. I didn't even get any of the limited-edition orange cans that are promoted on the front of the box. If you notice, the depiction of the can also has antlers, so they are either hoping to hook hunting enthusiasts or Santa with this campaign. Personally, I don't see St. Nick as much of a beer drinker, but I'll bet he does enjoy a mug of spiked egg nog before settling into a long winter's nap, though.

Infidelity

2006-10-22T14:14:00.000-04:00

Oh, Internet. I've been unfaithful to you. I have been negligent about writing on my own blog as well as reading/commenting on the blogs of others. Not only that, but I've been cheating on you with some trade magazines and employee newsletters. OK, I'm really just a lazy blogger, and I haven't wanted to do much writing lately that I wasn't getting monetarily compensated for.

I went on a business trip three weeks ago that I've been meaning to write about, but the longer I went without blogging the less I was inspired to do so. But now I am facing another journey that will have me flying into Detroit on Thursday to drove over the border to the Great White North, only to drive back to Detroit and fly back that evening. So I thought I should get the last trip out of my system.

That adventure had taken me through Kentucky and Tennessee. On the way back, I had been thinking many, many deep thoughts during my time on the road that I intended to share with the Internet upon my return. Alas, I was tired and figured I'd just do it later. Now, so much time has passed and most of those thoughts are long gone and others turned out to be rather shallow and stupid on further pondering. Still, I might as welll share my experience of visiting a place of some historical significance that I stopped off on the way home.

Coming north on I-75, the rain was coming down so hard that it was tough to see very far when I was about halfway through the Bluegrass State. Around the time I was contemplating pulling over, I happened to see a points-of-interest sign for Corbin, Kentucky, with a big smiling picture of Colonel Sanders that read "BIRTHPLACE OF KFC NEXT RIGHT." Right around lunchtime, too. I didn't have time to do any other sightseeing, despite having journeyed right passed Mammoth Cave and through the northern part of the Great Smokie Mountains on this trip, so I figured it was time to do something a little touristy as well as the midday meal that I was entitled to anyway.

The eatery itself was a normal KFC, serving their typical fare, but they had the Colonel's office set up and had restored the original kitchen that you could peer at from behind a railing. There was also a lot of memorabilia on display and statues of Harland Sanders. Now, while looking back on the experience, I'm sorry I didn't have someone take my picture with me holding a bucket of chicken standing next to one of the Colonel's many likenesses. Maybe next time.

This is Only a Test

2006-10-04T12:52:00.001-04:00

This is a test. This is only a test. If this had this been an actual blog entry, there probably would be several paragraphs about nothing of any real importance and maybe some pictures of where I've been recently. This concludes the test of the Useless Clutter Blogging System.

Catching Up

2006-09-15T23:32:00.000-04:00

After a whirlwind of travel for work, visiting, and a mini-vacation over the last few weeks, Frema and I are going to spend this weekend in town, rather than our usual gallivanting about. I am looking forward to relaxing and not having to be anywhere special. A few weeks ago I had to travel to Tennessee and Alabama for work, and the day after I got back we went to the northeast reaches of the Hoosier State for a family reunion, then hightailed it over to the Windy City for more visiting and a quick stop back in the Region before heading south again to Indianapolis.

Last weekend, we thought we should use some tickets to Holiday World we received as a gift before the 2006 season ended and the passes became useless. Thus, we were off again, leaving for southern Indiana early Saturday morning. The park is located in the town of Santa Claus, Indiana, about three hours southwest of Indianapolis. The small town is riddled with statues and pictures of Ol' Saint Nick. If that's what it's like in the summer, it makes me wonder what they do for Christmas.

That night we spent the night in a motel out in the middle of pretty much nowhere. It wasn't quite the Bates Motel, but it didn't have the most luxurious accommodations, either. Determined to find a decent eatery somewhere in the vicinity, we ended up driving a half hour north to Jasper, IN, population 12,100, according to the 2000 US Census. As we first entered the city limits, we saw a sign for the Schnitzelbank Restaurant, and Frema was filled with an intense desire to find this establishment, despite the fact she's never had German food. After driving around doing bad Schwarzenegger accents, we found the place and decided to check it out. And after entering said establishment, I am certain it has got to be ranked up there as one of the kitschiest places on Earth, as evidenced by the lyrics of the German folk song of the same name painted on the wall with accompanying pictures and their display of "The Largest Stein In The World."

After we completed our Bavarian meal of sausages and schnitzel, we returned to our motel room to settle in for the night and prepare for the journey home the next day. I had planned a stop at Marengo Cave, which was sort of on the way back. This is all pretty long for something that happened a week ago, so I'll sum up quickly. I had long wanted to tour a cave, since my family used to drive past signs for them in southern Indiana and central Kentucky on the way to visit relatives. I used to quietly wonder what it was like, walking around underground, examining the odd sights that never see the light of the sun. I'm sure if I would've asked about it, my parents might have made plans to stop sometime, but I never asked and just stewed in my curiosity. I hadn't thought much about spelunking for years until my recent business trip, which took me through that same route with all those signs to get to my destinations further south.

I was a little worried that Frema wouldn't go for it, but she was willing to give it a try and turned out to have a great time, finding the underground just as fascinating as I did. Even though we stuck to the guided tour taken by thousands before us, which takes guests through the cave on a lighted paved walkway and up man-made stairs, the experience still had a little of the feel that you're exploring something not many have seen before. As amazing as it all seemed, I will say this: real cave formations don't really look very different from the ones in cheesy science-fiction movies or on Fraggle Rock (minus the bridges built by Doozers). Now I feel like a fool for all those times I muttered to myself, "That doesn't look real at all..."

Hanging In There

2006-09-07T12:36:00.000-04:00

Co-workers who stop by my office often remark that I need to put something on the walls. My boss even remarked that it's like a prison cell in there. I admit that it isn't very cheery, and I need to bring in some items to make it a bit homier, like say a picture of my wife. I actually went through my stash of photos last night, but none of them were Frema-approved. So in the meantime, as a quick fix to my problem I stuck up a Post-it honoring the poor kitten that's been hanging around people's cubicle walls across the country for many years now. Nobody has noticed the doodle yet, but I should say that since I put it up my productivity's increased by roughly 37 percent.

Imminent Danger

2006-08-29T15:38:00.000-04:00

Since starting my new job, I fear that my health may be in jeopardy.

At work, I'm in constant danger of overcaffeinating myself. At home, my coffee consumption is somewhat limited by my usual coffee snobbery, thereby protecting me from my bad habit of ingesting too much caffeine. There if I went to have some java, I have to grind the beans and fiddle with the internal filter on the maker before even starting the normal process of brewing the coffee. While in the office, there is always a pot sitting on the hotplate of the machine in the break room/kitchenette. Sure, it's not the most pleasant stuff to have to taste, but it's always readily available, right there waiting for me to get cup after cup after cup.

It's a good thing I've never tried crack. The same as a cup of joe, I understand it's highly addictive as well and not too hard to come by when you think you need it.

'I Double Duck Dare You!'

2006-08-21T17:52:00.000-04:00

I wonder if the other ducks dared this duck to do it at first, but it's clear that the waterfowl here have no fear of the plastic floating alligators in the retention pond. Our apartment complex's managers put two in last year in a vain attempt to scare off the ducks and geese that congregate on the grounds. For a while the birds did seem to give the gators a wide berth, but it may have been because they thought the alligators were tacky. The fowl were eventually swimming right past them. And now, of course, they're so bold as to defiantly stand right on top of the "head."

I found the gators on the Internet, sold as Gator Guard, and at least they weren't that expensive, $69 each or $65 each if you buy six or more. Still, they are clearly a waste of money. Bird-Ex, the company selling them, claims that their product will work on a variety of pesky varmints, stating at one point that it's "effective against geese, ducks, fish-eating birds and small animals, even those who have never seen a gator, as this fear is instinctive not learned."

Maybe a fear of real alligators doesn't have to be learned by the birds, but I think someone would have to repeatedly chase after the ducks swinging a plastic one around to teach them to be afraid of these things.

Back to School...er...Work

2006-08-20T13:33:00.000-04:00

Returning to full-time, regular work around the same time that most kids are going back to school is making me a tiny bit nostalgic about those days as a student when summer and fall seem to bleed together. There was the uneasy excitement of starting a new year, hoping that this one would be better than the last, while at the same time dreading the homework, exams, and just having to go to class. I always thought it was kind of a cruel joke on the part of educators to start ringing the school bell in August when summer really doesn't end until the latter half of September. But then I chose to ignore the fact that summer break typically started before summer really began.

Actually, I'll be starting my new job on Wednesday, the very same day that students in the Merrillville Community School Corporation, of which I am an alumnus, return to school. When I was a kid I wanted as much time away from school as I could get. Each year school never seemed to let out for summer soon enough and always resumed far too early. As an adult, I can't wait to get back to work, and I'm looking forward to training for the new occupation. I'm sure there'll be a bit of a learning curve as I enter a new career, but I hope to live up to the "quick-learning" and "self-motivated" strengths that I tried to sell in the interview process.

For now, I have a few days left of summer "break." I'm not sure what to do with my time, but I feel like I should make the most of it. Or at least do some things that I won't be able to when I return to the world of grownups in a few days.

The Rat Race

2006-08-16T14:40:00.000-04:00

I can't be too telling, but I do have good news to share. I will soon be finally re-entering the world of regular employment. No more temping for me, no siree!

Up until about three weeks ago, I had been running around in circles in the job searching department. Interviews were coming my way since I first moved to the Indianapolis area in September, but not ones for jobs I could get excited about, and not any offers worth taking. In October, I started a temp job that was somewhat sporadic and not exactly rewarding, but it was enough for Frema and I to save enough to get married in May.

Fast forward to late July: I tweaked my resume to look and sound a little snazzier and more confident. I then sent it to two separate employers and received quick and positive responses from both. I was called in for interviews that went well and led to second interviews. One prospective employer even took me out to lunch at a nice restaurant. That only happened to me once before. When I was still in college, I went in for an all-day interview. The interviewer took me to Burger King but didn't have enough cash, so I had to pay. Although it was offered, I didn't take that job. But it wasn't the BK incident that caused me to turn it down. I didn't want to sell 1-800 numbers to small business owners for a third party claiming to be a national telephone service provider. Apparently, in the eyes of those wannabe employers, that passed as a "marketing and PR" job.

Back to the present: I have now received an offer from each employer. While the two combined would make one stupendous salary, I could not accept both, so I went with the one that seemed to be the better job with a more promising career path. The higher salary didn't hinder my decision, either.

What Happened to All the Food?

2006-08-10T23:39:00.000-04:00

As part of an effort to save dough, Frema and I don't eat out very often. But tonight we decided to grab a quick something whilst running an errand to prepare for this weekend's big camping trip. As my better half is trying to eat healthier these days, we thought long and hard about options for fast(ish) food that wouldn't kill us. I think Frema is working on a post right along those lines, so I won't go into that now. But I will say that we decided that we were not going to a burger joint under any circumstances whatsoever. After some debate, we decided that Boston Market would be better than some places and wasn't too far from our apartment.

We arrived and Frema pondered her sides and ordered turkey. The woman behind the counter told her that's good because they were out of chicken anyway. Did I hear that correctly? Out of chicken?

"What'd she just say they're out of?"

"Chicken. She said they're out of chicken. Do you still want to eat here?"

Nope. Am I crazy or didn't Boston Market used to be called Boston Chicken? How can a place that used to specialize in one particular meat ever run out of it? Anyway, we went onto our second choice just up the road, hoping for sandwiches and soups at least somewhat on the healthy side at Panera Bread. When we got there, Frema quickly learned the restaurant has a rather large tome on the nutritional information for each menu item, which aided her decision.

My decision at sandwich shops is usually easy because I typically stick to the hot section of the selection list. If I eat a sandwich out, I want it to be hot, not cold. Most sandwiches I'd make at home are going to be cold, so in eating one out I want it to be special. So I order something from the panini menu but was quickly told that all the bread they make panini out of was depleted. Simultaneously, the clerk at the next register told a fellow customer they were out of most options of bread that night. Panera Bread. Panera (freakin') BREAD! How can they possibly be out of any types of breads!? All sorts of bread should be at on hand at all times if you're going to use the word as half your name! I was calm and polite with the clerk, but I was going nuts in my head, which was already spinning after being denied the chicken I had been craving.

So I got a cold sandwich. Some Mediterranean veggie deal that had a lot more ingredients than we'd ever have on hand at home, so I figured that would be OK. The meal was good as it turned out, a little like a Greek salad on bread. I know I am overreacting, especially since I liked what I had after all and only went to two places, but I am still thrown for a loop by the lack of key foods at these not-small franchise operations. I mean, it was not all that late, well before 8 p.m., anyway. You'd think they'd plan a little better to keep staple items stocked to at least make it close to closing time.