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 |  If you havent ever read my blogs, give them a go! You will be amused at my journey! |
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Me and Holo-Zoo are building a submarine here next to the pond. We're determined that we're gonna find out what's at the bottom of this damn thing... ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** ... If you're new to my journal, you've got a lot of catching up to do. So, don't be a slacker, get the full story. Here are my first two journals for your reading torture.
You don't have to read them all at once. Print 'em, and take them to that little reading room with the white chair. You know you love to read in there. Or print 'em out and use them as doorstops, bookends, or paperweights. You may prefer to leave a message on my voice mail. I award weekly Gift Points for clever, and or entertaining messages left there.
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| Holo Zoo came along with me on my appointments today. He said he wanted to see what all the fuss was about. "Why are you so uptight about your job?" he asked. I'd never heard him use a term like "uptight" before. Obviously he's been studying some slang vernacular or something in his spare time. "Uptight?" I repeated. "Who says I'm uptight?" "Your body language says it all. You walk around the house like you're Alexander Graham Bell on the brink of inventing the telephone. You won't talk to anyone, and everything about you says you're stuck in your own mind, as if that's the most important thing in your universe." Uptight? Stuck in my own mind? Well sure I am. I've got a beast of a learning curve to overcome, and I'm trying to live up to my company's expectations of me. They took a chance promoting me like they did, not knowing if I had what it took. I can't let them down. I have no choice but to let this job wash over me and consume me for now, at least until I get to a point where I don't have to sweat it every single day. I don't want to wake up every Sunday morning, with a knot in my stomach the size of Monday morning. "Aww lighten up. You ain't all that. Actin' all big while little is eatin' the hell out of you. Step down big fella. Step down and quit pretending that your job is the most important thing in the universe." Is this really Holo Zoo? Using contractions in his speech? Littering his conversation with slang words and phrases? This can't be Holo Zoo. It can't be. Just before he vanished from the passenger's seat, he told me that I'd better hurry up and get comfortable, because the submarine ain't gonna build itself, and he doesn't have time to do it all alone anymore. Whatever. Stupid hologram. Zoo - Salted and Roasted   ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** |
| You know what they say about hotel room comforters, about how they never wash them, just the sheets, and that the first thing you should do when you get to your room is put on some rubber gloves, and rip the comforter off the bed and toss it in the corner? It's probably good advice. I haven't noticed anything in any of the other places I've stayed at, but tonight I pulled the comforter off and watched as a whole swarm of crumbs and whatnot floated down onto my laptop case. Upon closer examination, I see that this debris is drug related. Tiger striped marijuana seeds, and sticks and stems were all over the floor, too. Wow, gotta love San Antonio. Looks like somebody split open a sack of happy in this room last night, or maybe housekeeping did it. Hmm. They could have left a guy enough to at least roll a joint with it. Buttheads. Anyhow, I was also expecting a microwave in the room, like I've seen at other La Quintas, but not this one. And I bought a Hungry Man TV dinner, too. Crap. Guess I'll have to venture out at some point and eat at Denny's. Ugghhhh. It's close by and I don't feel like driving, and neither do the Bud Lights that I brought to keep me company tonight. So, somebody tell me the latest juicy gossip. I used to read anywhere from 10 to 15 journals every day here. Now I have no idea if grim has gone off to jion the merchant marines, or if Kat got a big tattoo of me on her mammaries, or if Cap decided to build a treehouse and live in it, or if PC has finally pissed off the entire universe, or if Mel has given bith to triplets, (or was that grim?), or if Duck and Love have moved to Australia, or if the Milkman has taken over the Poker World yet, or... or.... or... oar. Somebody throw me another oar, I'm paddling around in circles here. Anyway, time for a job update. It's getting better and better. I have never had a job that requires me to use my brain this much, for this long every day. But it's quite a welcome change from rotting away in a cubicle like I used to do. The only down side is that I'm away from home alot. Things happen at home, and I have to leave. Then I come back and I'm not in synch with everyone, I have a lot of work to do, and not enough time to do it. I want to turn off my brain and STOP thinking about work for a few days, but sometimes I can't. It's probably because this is all new to me, and I'm still learning everything. It'll keep getting better, and eventually I will take possession of my thoughts again, and relax a little bit. But for now, I'm lucky to get a few minutes to come in here and spill my guts. Oops, left a little wet spot there. I wonder if Denny's delivers? Hmmmm. I bet there's a Pizza Hut or a Mr. Gattis around here somewhere. They'll deliver to a hotel room, won't they? So, anyway. I'm yellow now. Boo hoo. I guess it still feels a little strange to see myself all jaundiced like that, like I'm anemic or scared or something. Now Cherub is the only original senior mod left standing. Go Cherub! You rock! And Diane! Oh Diane, you must email me and tell me what happened to you to make you blush such a brilliant shade of RED! The only time I've seen you that red was at the convention when the air conditioning was on too high during our goodbye lunch.  Zoo - Salted and Roasted ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** |
| Here I be. I be here. Right here, right now, right here. At least for a few minutes. It's starting to look like I don't know when I'm going to find time to be here. I'm incredibly busy during the week, and when the weekend comes, I want to either collapse for a while or relax and just play around on guitar or on video games, or just watch TV. But now, I have dropped my spoon into my black-eyed peas, which complicates things a bit. See? I'm a simple person. I just wish I had more time to be simple around here, like back in what I'm going to have to start referring to as "the good ole days". It's getting to the point that I'm going to have to implode myself. What's the term I'm thinking of? Devolve myself? Retard myself? Nope. Already did that. Oh yeah. Demote myself. That's it. I do it reluctantly, but I gotta do it, nonetheless. So, as I write this, I am still a Senior Mod, but how can I be an effective Senior Mod if I am never around? I can't. So, ladies of the Senior Mod Group, Storymaster, Storymistress, it's been my pleasure, and I've been honored to have had the opportunity to been part of the group. But even so, I have to bow out now and give someone else a chance. So here I am. I be here. It's going to be really weird seeing my name in anything but purple, and let's face it - I'm as vain as the next person. I'd like to be a senior mod forever. But it just isn't fair to never be around to interact, participate and help out, so... I've got my finger on the button. I'm gonna do it. Don't come any closer. I swear, I'm doing it. Boom. Zoo - Salted and Roasted ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** |
| BT(ld) Man, how cool would it be to have time for the band again? It was only a few short months ago that I had all kinds of extra room in my brain for creative thinking. Time to spend inside my head- but even as I say that, I think that in some ways it's better for the creative process to forcibly turn it off completely for a few days. Then, the next time you turn it on, a fountain of good ideas come spurting out. The time spent with BigTiny last weekend was pretty damned productive. We did the whole teeth-grinding process of reacquainting ourselves with ProTools, and recorded a few things, just for grins and to prove to ourselves that we still knew what we were doing. We worked on attack issues with the placing and phrasing of the lyrics for SomeDay, so that we can both sing it at the same time, together and cleanly. And we went over Psalms 13 a little too. It was amazing that we had so much time to go over all that, but I guess it's pretty much understood by everyone, Melissa and Marv and the kids, that that's the primary reason that we have these get-togethers in the first place. It's always been about the music with BT and me. I think playing golf with BT a month ago, was the first time we'd ever hung out when it wasn't about the music. We're both on the same page alot when it comes to that. We always have been. Sometimes we talk a different talk, and we definitely walk a different walk, but we're always on the same page when it comes to music. Except when I'm on a different one, which fortunately happens to both of us. Today, I am nourished by a microwaved Stouffer's lasagna, wondering if I should shower, get something else to eat, or do a little work preparation. I have to do an audit on Monday all by myself, my first one, and I should review the classification codes, just to be on top of my game... but the infernal dog-scratching against the door noises have started again, and I am disctracted. I could probably kill the afternoon waiting for the UT game to start by playing TigerWoods golf, or napping, because you see, Marv has gone to Houston to see Jules, and tomorrow is, after all, another day... I spend enough unpaid time inside my head, thinking about work related things. When I shouldn't be working, I have to simply do that. Turn off the audit mode and go find a balance for it on the opposite end of the spectrum somewhere - music, art, writing, video games, anything. I can study up for my Monday audit on Sunday night. Simple as that. But now, how to properly kill an afternoon? I think I'll grab my guitar, make myself a soda, and go out on the porch to think about that with the dogs. Don't let the white dog out. Zoo - Salted and Roasted ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** |
| Aw, crap! The Mets are not in the World Series. I had a pretty good feeling about them going all the way this year, but oh well- now I shall just have to ease the pain by eating giant buckets of ice cream and crying like a big fat baby, ordering giant sandwiches that wouldn't even fit through my front door, watching Oprah all day or all those annoying judge shows, Gilligan's island re-runs, and C-Span all day. Is it any secret that Geraldo is, well, just- Geraldo? I didn't think so. He was annoying when he was supposedly opening Al Capone's vault in the late 70's (i think), and he's still annoying. I really can't stand the guy. I would say that I hate him, but I don't want my daughter to see the word hate in my journal. Aw, crap. Zoo - Salted and Roasted ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** |
| I'm standing on the 2nd or 3rd floor of the parking garage at the La Posada Hotel, in Laredo, TX. This is classy Old World Mexico, and I can see out between the ornamental concrete lattice work, across the greenish-brown Rio Grande into Nuevo Laredo where the Mexican Mafia is supposedly taking a foothold these days. The locals here in Laredo are all talking about it; even they don't relish the idea of making a trip across the border. I feel lucky that we have been given the privelege of parking here. My boss has dropped the name of the Human Resources director of the hotel which apparently met with the approval of the very sophisticated elderly Mexican lady that runs the hotel. We were glad to pay the fifteen dollar fee to park there. Space is at a premium down here. The streets are narrow and packed with people when we come out of the lobby of the hotel at 9:00am. Ladies are sweeping the sidewalk in front of their stores. Casual labor hopefuls are still hanging around street corners. The narrow streets are surprisingly clean, but everything seems very strange to me. I don't ever feel uncomfortable or threatened, after all, we are two nicely dressed businessmen carrying briefcases and driving around in a dark brown Crown Victoria with darkly tinted windows. The thought crosses my mind that one day, probably next year, but maybe sooner, I will be walking around down hear by msyelf. Will I feel as self-assured as I do today? We walk down the street, nodding to the occasional old man sitting outside a shop, the young boys at the square and the woman with three small children sitting by a large fountain. We go up three tall steps into a video game store. Once we are inside, under bright flourescent lighting I almost feel like I'm back in Central Texas inside a public mall. We are here to meet the proprietor, a balding middle-aged Spanish man from Corpus Christi. He runs the video store as well as keep the records for the Laredo location of the large hotel chain that we are here to audit. He comes down the tight, white hallway from the back and greets us, then leads us to the back, up a skinny staircase into the corporate offices of his accountanting/investment firm. He also handles the books for an amateur soccer team, and runs a coin- operated vending machine outfit. His boardroom is modern and classy, a sharp contrast to everything this place looks like on the outside. He jokes nervously about the huge fly that insists on lighting on my laptop. I've heard that the flies down here are gigantic, but this one is ridiculous. Halfway through the audit one of the partners of the investment firm comes up the stairs. We hear her hard shoes on each step long before we see her head and neck coming up. He introduces her as Priya, and we can clearly tell that she is from somewhere in the Middle East. I smile and shake her hand, marveling at the cultural and indsutrial diversity inside this building. The giant fly lands on little autographed picture of Emmitt Smith of the Dallas Cowboys, scoring a touchdown back in the nineties, one of the proprietor's many Cowboy keepsakes. We are finished with audit now. It went smoothly. I could have done this one myself, I think, as we walk outside again. It's just before lunchtime now, and we walk back to the La Posada, drawing a few curious looks from the locals. There is now a very long line of cars waiting to cross over the International Bridge coming in from Mexico. On the way out of town that day, we are forced to stop at a random Border Patrol station. While his dog sniffs the back of our car an officer sticks his head in the window of our car and asks in his thick Spanish accent if we are US "cee-tizens". We say we are, and he waves us through, and we drive away laughing. We should have said,"Are YOU?" During the five hour drive back to Central Texas, I am chatting with my daughter on the Blackberrys, interacting with her stilted chat-speak, thinking how Laredo is almost an entirely different world, and how it is a parallel to the idea that I am now in my daughter's world, connecting with her in a way I never have before, nor she, I... and how all of our worlds are changing every day, while the globe perculates and people grow and change, and society shifts and ripples all the time. The world I live in today is like nothing else I've ever experienced, and tomorrow will be the same way, only different, and if I don't catch up, flex into, and climb over it, then I can blame nobody but myself. Stagnation is no good. Change is imminent. When change is no longer, you ain't doing nothing anymore except pushing up daisies. It would be nice to sit in my chair in the garage, always doing nothing, but I'm not really ready to do that just yet. I've bitten off a big chunk of something sweet here, and I have to finish chewing on it before I can swallow it down. Marv asked me tonight if I would take crocheting classes with her when we retire. "It's not gonna happen," I said. "Embroidery?" Zoo - Salted and Roasted ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** |
| Laredo is flat and uninteresting. There are prickly pear cactus everwhere and the road to get here goes on and on forever. I have a non smoking room, but it smells like a wet dog lived here during the dry season. I'd almost rather smell old cigar smoke. It took us five hours to get here, and then we drove another 3 hours just to get to our two appointments. The trucking operations around here are huge. One of our appointments was just that; a huge warehouse full of all kinds of merchandise that comes in the door from all over the state and then goes right back out the door on the way south, into Mexico. Tomorrow, we go further south into old Laredo, where the streets are narrow, and dirty, and there's nowhere to park. Almost everyone I see, is dark-skinned of Hispanic origin, and this redhaired gringo sticks out like Willie Nelson at an Eskimo tupperware party. Signs are printed up in Spanish first, English second, and I can only say, "uno cerveza, por favor". We ate a Tokyo Garden tonight near the Laredo airport, and the table chef was from Mexico! It's funny to eat Japanese cuisine when the waiter says everything like Cheech would say it. I liked the scallops better in San Antonio, too. What do you tell your 12 year old daughter, when she wants to wear makeup so badly that she totally ignores a full blown conversation about it the night before and comes home wearing eye-liner, and carrying mascara when you explicitly told her not to? I can't believe how difficult she is going to be about other things, if she's already ignoring us about little things like makeup? There must be consequences, I think. If we don't slap the cuffs on her this time, about this, she's going to run all over us about other things in the future. Either that, or we'll hit her hard about this one, and she'll totally shut down on us and continue to do what she wants regardless of the repercussions. I'm afraid of how to handle this. But doing nothing is not the answer. I need this child to open up to me, and talk it out. I want to know what's going on in her head that she thinks she can do what she wants, even though she did not get the express written consent of major league baseball. Blatantly doing what she wants to do, when we clearly told her not to is really a big deal to me. It's like she doesn't care at all ... I wonder if she's trying to punish us because we didn't let her go to a party she wanted to go to this weekend. Maybe it's one of those," I'll show them! I don't like it. Unfortunately, at the risk of extreme gnashing of teeth and pulling of hair, we're going to have to once again show her how miserable her life can be if she doesn't do as she's told. She's twelve. We're the adults, and believe it or not, we probably DO know what's best for her right now. She's got the whole rest of her life to prove how independent she is. In the meantime, I guess us old fuddy-duddy parents get the privelege of ruining it for her, one day at a time until she gets the message. Over and out. Let the heartache begin. Zoo - Salted and Roasted ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** |
| It's a strange thing, this life I bit off to chew. It's sweet and creamy on the outside, but inside it's pretty damned hard and crunchy, and there's something in there that's distasteful, too. Maybe a cockroach or a little grubworm or something. I haven't decided yet. I liked being the guy that knew the answer, the "go to" guy that people searched for when they had nowhere else to go. "Let's ask Mike," came up alot around the office. It sucks being the new guy, being behind the learning curve a little bit, so that you find yourself sitting in someone's place of business, and your laptop is making strange noises because you haven't really run across THAT error message before, and you're not sure how the hell to make your spreadsheet work for you instead of against you- all at the very moment when you absolutely DO need to appear professional, and a several beads of sweat pop out on your forehead, your laptop emits a foul fume of smoke suddenly, and your glasses fog over ... It's easy sitting in the office on the second floor, overlooking the hill country, watching the storms roll in, fielding some phone calls and writing in between... I think my brain must have been turned off during that time, because it's been mortal combat to get the damn thing fired back up again. I'm not the "go to" guy anymore and I hate that. I'm just a little midget man shootin' around the state in a car, acting like one day I get it, and the next I have no clue what the hell is going on. This is not a job you can learn in a month, though. It's not like I have a recipe for audits that I can whip out and use everytime. That would be great; a road map of sorts, step by step showing me the way... PAH! There ain't no such thing in this profession. Every day is different. And they're all strangely the same. But you can never count on one to be quite like the other. Nature of the beaast. Which makes the learning curve a flying bitch on wheels- if there is such a thing... Especially for a guy whose company has let him rot away on the second floor with a view for the last 6 years. Yesterday was a great day. I breezed through all three of our audits: an automotive shop, an attorney's office, and a warehousing distribution firm. No problems at all. I even told Kelly after the first one, "I think I could have, possible, maybe done that one all by myself. Maybe." But today? Ugh. I felt useless, helpless, out of my element. For some reason, I just could not focus on the ADP records in front of me. I mean- I eventually did, but it took me too long to wrestle all my thoughts together about what I was looking for in the records. It was a country club, and they didn't set me up somewhere private where I could work. At first they wanted to set me up in the Snack Bat at a little cafe table, right in the middle of everything. There were golfers coming in and out, people coming and going, it was riduculous. I couldn't concentrate on what I was doing and we moved into a little office, but there were still people all around, trying to make small talk with me. It was impossible. Then, the second and third appointments cancelled on me, and I went home to jockey around with the spreadsheet in peac and quiet. I actually got a lot done, and scheduled a trip to Corpus Christi and McAllen and Brownsville. I have to eat better. Zoo - Salted and Roasted ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** |
| Zach reassured me, and I reassured him, too, that we are both in a sort of a new spot, ages away from each other, in two totally different worlds, yet standing inches apart from each other saying, "Yep, I know how that feels." There can't be another father and son relationship quite like this one, which isn't to say it's better than my own, or anyone else's- it's just very unique. But then, that's only coming from my perpsective and to me every relationship that I have with either of my kids is a first time experience for me. Them too. It helps me so much to remember that. I hope they'll think about it, too. It might allow them to see past my parenting mistakes, and see the underlying goodness of intent that I have for both of them. That aside, Zach is going through much the same thing in his job that I am. We both feel a bit of the ol' -damn- I- bit- off- more- than- I- can- chew!- syndrome, he more so than I, because he has to tackle school, too, and after all, this is his first job, and they're giving him the keys and asking him to open the restaurant on the weekends and close it a few nights a week. He's only sixteen, and feeling a little overwhelmed by it all- rightly so- I told him. "Don't think that you can't quit this job if they don't cut your hours, cause you can. Nobody's first job is supposed to be their last one, you just have to do the respectable thing and give two weeks notice, tell them politely that your schoolwork has to come first right now, and the hours and the responsibilty are killing you, simple as that." But that's exactly what he doesn't want to do. He's come so far over the summer and gained so much respect and self confidence ina job well done and all that... that he doesn't want to blow it all somehow, or let anybody down, Buck's included. But he realizes that he can't tackle it all, although he wants to. Wants to keep having money to spend. Wants to keep having gas money for driving, of course, seeing as how his driving has evolved from the little old lady from Pasadena, to the master of the clutch, Mario freakin' Andretti of the piney-wood roads of Paige. Anyway, he mentioned that he almost wishes he had his old responsibilities back, when it was easy- sort of I like I had it back in the upstairs cube in the glass building, throwing stones tablets down from my view of the Texas Hill Country all day long. I've been missing writing from up there. Learning the new things have consumed me these days, now that they've thrown me down and supplanted me among the masses. So that's my excuse for not writing... damn, it's starting to sound like somebody's funeral in here. Used to be four a day, now it's once every four days, if I'm lucky. Stupid name for a dog, that. Lucky. Poor thing turned out to be a dog. How lucky could that be? Zoo - Salted and Roasted ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** Zoo - Salted and Roasted ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** |
| Happy to report that my laptop and I have made our peace finally, I click happily away now, right now, in fact, as I type this. Also, finally I have a smoking room at a LaQuinta. Damn, there must be a lot of freaking smokers that come to these places. Three days in San Antonio last week, and two this week in Houston, and each time I was forced to crack open a window and hang my fag out the window like a teenager. Either that, or hide in the bathroom with the fan vent on full-blow, hoping that the smell would dissapate enough by morning so that the LQ police would not hunt me down and charge for a pricey room fumagation. Yes, I'm feeling more comfortable after these last couple of weeks. Not comfortable enough to go out on my own yet, but I'm getting there. I'm coming to the realization after watching KK struggle a few times and wrinkle his brow in frustration, that even a seasoned auditor will still run across things that are difficult if not impossible to reconcile. That makes me feel better about my temporary shortcomings as a field auditor. KK is one of the best and even he is stumped from time to time. I'm getting better at this. Today I felt in synch, like I belonged out here doing this job. I asked the right questions, pressed for the right answers, all while keeping in mind that like a good salesman, a good auditor can sell himself and yes, even endear himself to the customer, so that everyone is relaxed and the audit goes off without a hitch in its get up. Yes, even my laptop and I have become friends-something I thought I would never get used to, yet here I am, typing along happily and just as fast as ever- for whatever the hell that's worth. I'm also eating like a pig and a king on the company's tab. Three square meals a day is a necessity, I'm finding. It's nearly impossible to expect your brain to function at top capacity when you don't eat breakfast, a good lunch and a better dinner. Not drinking 5-6 beers every night is also something that keeps you sharp during the day, I've discovered, and that's okay with me too. I have mainly confined my drinking nights to when I am home, and even then it's just drinking out of sheer boredom. Today, I almost ran the entire show at one of the audits, noticing some suspicious looking storage units that we didn't know were part of the policy we were insuring, while simultaneously watching out for the junk yard dog who was merely sleeping under one of the company trucks at a landscape company and didn't end up eating us alive after all. I like the Blackberry now, too. It's awesome to be in touch with my calendar, email, and family all at the same time, even if the damn thing is always bleeping and blinking and making all manner of annoying sounds when I'm trying hard to untangle the customer's registers from their quarterly reports, and fighting my way through the infernal exel spreadsheet that I am determined to get the best of before it eats me alive. But like the junkyard dog, I think it's turning out to be a big sissy, too. I've been waiting for a turning point in this job- a brilliantly shining moment or two when something clicks, and I suddenly break through a barrier that's been sucking my brain stem into orbit. I've finally had a few of those, and more keep coming. I'm actually going to be able to do this! So far though, it's been KK and I travelling together, and eating meals together, and checking in and out of hotels together. I've been thinking this week that it will be decidedly more boring and lonely when it's just me and my Nissan on the road alone in the coming weeks. Already KK is talking about a few weeks into December when he will turn me loose to tackle it all on my own. Yikes. I'm not ready for that yet, but I will be if things keep going like they are. But for now, I'm watching listening and learning still, and eating my way into those slacks that I've never worn because they've always been to big in the waist for me. The next time any of you see me, I may be a fatty chunky boy. That'll be different. I've been the same size and weight since high school. I don't have any idea what I'll look like as a pudge. Time will tell, I guess. Today- Huntsville, TX, home of Sam Houston State University, and the tallest statue of a famous statesman (that would be Sam Houston), and a large prison, and a prison museum to boot. Tomorrow - College Station, TX , home of the Fighting Texas A&M Aggies, the 12th man, and something else that I cant't remember. Now- signing off from the fabulous La Quinta Inn & Suites where I figured out how to get my wireless connection working all by myself so I could get a few things done on the company network, and make this wonderful entry for prosperity and for all you wonderful people that read this shit. May your night be filled with sweet dreams and flying machines. La Quinta - Spanish for "What? You forgot your deodorant? Gross!" The Mets are winning. I gotta go. Zoo - Salted and Roasted ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** |
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