Daytona 500

Damn.

Conversations with Ainsley

It's been just Ainsley and I for the most part this weekend. She's been a ton of fun. Here's just a snippet of some of our conversations.

While in my car heading to the grocery store:

A: It smells. It smells like Zippy's poop.

J: Did you step in some of it?

A: No. It's you car.

J: My car? What do you mean?

A: Your car smells. Really bad. Very badly.

J: It does?

A: You need to clean it.

J: *sniff* *sniff*

She later picked me out a strawberry air freshener for my car.

While getting her out of the car after returning from the grocery store:

A: (with the utmost sincerity) Dad. Will you call me your highness?

J: Yes, dear.

A: No! Your highness.

J: Yes, your highness.

While watching Orangutan Island on Animal Planet:

A: I see his butt. Dad. Look at his butt.

J: *snicker*

At Blockbuster picking out a movie:

J: How about this one?

A: Seen it.

J: This one?

A: We have that one, you silly goose.

J: We don't have this one? Want to get it?

A: I've seen it, you knuckle head.

Early this morning as were we sleeping:

Weazel: Meow. Meow.

A: Shhhhhhhhhh!!!!

Weazel: Meow. Meow.

A: Weazel!! Go to sleep!! It's not time to get up yet!

Weazel: Meow. Meow.

J: *throws pillow at Weazel*

A: I told you to go to sleep, Weazel.

Friday Night Fun

It was another rough week at work, so what better way to unwind than cooking a good meal while partaking in good drinks.

Won't my mom be proud of this one.

Will it be worth it?

Here's an article from the NY Times about the Amazon Kindle.

Mine arrives on Tuesday. I ordered it on 27 December.

You're on Candid Camera

While on this trip to LA, I was surprised at how many times I was on camera.

On the turnpike heading to the airport.

In the parking garage.

In the airport.

At LAX.

On the Hertz bus.

At Hertz.

Leaving Hertz.

At the parking garage for the hotel.

In the hotel.

At certain intersections.

At the donut shop.

At Castrol.

At McDonalds.

At the italian place we stopped to eat at.

And back again.

We are quickly becoming similar to the UK as far as surveillance. Ok. Not that far.

Sitting at LAX waiting on the red eye back home, one has time to think of such things. I hope I can sleep on the plane, because I leave at 10:15 Pacific time and get back at 6:12 am on Friday morning. Straight to work I go.

Such is life. It should only hurt for a little while.

College Grad

I'm in Los Angeles now, but more about that later.

I received confirmation today that I am now a college graduate with a Bachelors of Science.

Yipee.

Now it's time to start on the Masters.

Catch Me if You Can.

A guest post from Sir Zipadelli.

What's happening, my peeps?

Lots of sleeping and licking me balls for me. OK. I lick where I think my balls should be, but they haven't been there in some time.

Anyways, I have a story for you from this weekend. I'm going to use Brad Paisley's song, "Mr. Policeman" to help me tell the story because I was thinking of it the entire time this was happening. The song is about him taunting a policeman to catch him in his 75 Firebird Trans Am. Let me set the stage.

The oldest of the little monsters had just got done taking me for a walk. I had been a good boy on the walk, but it was all part of my master plan. I knew I had her trust, so she dropped the leash when she opened up the door. And we're off!!

In case you can't figure it out, the words in italics are from the song.
Hey! Hey! Mr. Policeman. I bet I can drive faster than you can. Come on hoss let's have some fun, go ahead and shoot me with your radar gun, you look bored and I sure am so catch me if you can. Go on, turn on your bluelights (so pretty). you know you want to, I just flew by. I can see you peeling out, how my dust taste in your mouth, come on Smokey it's time to race. Let's have us a high speed chase.

Now I'm out of the yard and across the street. The daddy monster is out of the house and walking my way. I look at him, more like stare at him,...wait for it....I'm off!! Just like the song says, catch me if you can!! I race to the next street with the fat bastard in hot pursuit. Boy does he look pissed!! By now we're about a block away from the house.

Hey! Hey! Mr. Policeman. A chopper in the air and a couple of swat vans. That's no fair blocking the road, where am I supposed to go, time to use my back-up plan, catch me if you can.

There wasn't a chopper in the air, but now the mama monster is in the van with the smallest monster. They tried blocking me from crossing the street, but I was much too quick.

Hey! Hey! Mr. Policeman. I bet I can run faster than you can. With your big pot belly and your cowboy boots, a hundred bucks says you won't shoot. I know these woods like the back of my hand, catch me if you can!!

I stopped to take a leak and I let the daddy monster get close to me. I sniffed around so he would think I was occupied and not paying attention. I let him get close and then I was off!!

Go on, turn on your spotlight (so shiny). I've got running shoes and I'm younger than you and I've got all night. There's no way your keeping up with me, go on back to Krispy Kreme, If you want to quit I understand. Catch me if you can.

To my immense enjoyment, he ran after me. He chased me for 3 houses and then started to walk. I stopped and turned to look at him thinking, "There's no way you're keeping up with me. If you want to quit, I understand." The dude looked pitiful!!

It was right about now that I saw another dog at the back door of the house I was at. I figured I had some time, so I went up to the door to take a look. You never know, I might just get lucky with a hot dame. Funny enough, this is the part of the song where they just pick for awhile. And then, they pause for a second before they sing...

I'm in the jail house now. I'm in the jail house now. He told me once or twice, son respect my author-a-tie, I'm in the jail house now.

While I was screwing around with the other dog, the daddy monster was able to sneak up on me and grab my leash. I immediately knew I had been beat. He walked me home with my head hung low in shame. I was so confident, and the defeat was crushing. After all the taunting, he had caught me. Even worse, he paraded me through the neighborhood in my defeat.

Later, bitches. I have to go fart on his pillow to get back at him.

If you haven't heard the song, go here and click scroll down to Mr. Policeman. Click on it for a free sample.

Greenville, South Carolina

I haven't been much of a blogger lately. I have to admit that I find Zippy's letter to Santa hilarious. I probably find it a little too funny.

I spent some time at the GE facility in Greenville, SC this week. They make the wind turbines there. They are massive!! I was asked to go there to share best practices with the Castrol people there at their site. I walked away glad that I did not work there.

The most important revelation I walked away with was this:

I need a camera phone.

I love my crack-berry, but why I didn't get one with a camera escapes me. As I waited patiently for my delayed flight back to Philly, there was ample material to post about. Pictures would have definitely brought this post to life.

There were the low-techies. This group of 6 were doing the unthinkable. They didn't have out their laptops or their ipods. No Blackberrys. They were actually talking, and having a good time of it. They were looked at as oddities.

Diabetes boy sat across from me. He had his laptop and ipod going, but he also had one of those pager looking insulin machines hooked up to him.

Crazy tye dye guy was...crazy looking. He looked like Gene Simmons, long hair and all. There were a few times I thought a confrontation was inevitable as he meandered around the terminal mumbling to himself.

Business man was a fit 60ish dude with a tailored suit. Very spiffy.

Knowledge man spoke of his poweress on his phone, while know-it-all Sal told anybody who would listen how great he was at....well, at everything.

Then there was *whistle*. Good lord.

The prep troop, who dropped their bags because they were done lugging them around, sat next to pearly white grandma. Ivan the Russian was rushing to his flight, while what was she thinking gal got off her flight wearing clogs. Scared tennis girl looked like she wanted her mommy, while grunge wanna be had "I don't like your girlfriend" written all over her. Then there was trifecta boy. He had his phone, ipod and laptop burning. What a cliche he was.

Pictures would have added so much more to this dull post.

On a side note, the number of Amazon Kindle sightings: 0

I will say one thing about my trip. All of the people were nice. Genuinely nice. Good southern hospitality.

Me, on the other hand...

A Letter to Santa

Zipadelli is up to no good. Go to his blog to read his letter to Santa.

What has habit been doing to you?

FATHER FORGETS
W. Livingston Larned
condensed as in "Readers Digest"

Listen, son: I am saying this as you lie asleep, one little
paw crumpled under your cheek and the blond curls stickily
wet on your damp forehead. I have stolen into your room alone.
Just a few minutes ago, as I sat reading my paper in the
library, a stifling wave of remorse swept over me. Guiltily
I came to your bedside.

There are the things I was thinking, son: I had been cross
to you. I scolded you as you were dressing for school because
you gave your face merely a dab with a towel. I took you to
task for not cleaning your shoes. I called out angrily when
you threw some of your things on the floor.

At breakfast I found fault, too. You spilled things. You
gulped down your food. You put your elbows on the table. You
spread butter too thick on your bread. And as you started off
to play and I made for my train, you turned and waved a hand
and called, "Goodbye, Daddy!" and I frowned, and said in
reply, "Hold your shoulders back!"

Then it began all over again in the late afternoon. As I came
up the road I spied you, down on your knees, playing marbles.
There were holes in your stockings. I humiliated you before
your boyfriends by marching you ahead of me to the house.
Stockings were expensive-and if you had to buy them you would
be more careful! Imagine that, son, from a father!

Do you remember, later, when I was reading in the library, how
you came in timidly, with a sort of hurt look in your eyes?
When I glanced up over my paper, impatient at the interruption,
you hesitated at the door. "What is it you want?" I snapped.

You said nothing, but ran across in one tempestuous plunge,
and threw your arms around my neck and kissed me, and your
small arms tightended with an affection that God had set
blooming in your heart and which even neglect could not wither.
And then you were gone, pattering up the stairs.

Well, son, it was shortly afterwards that my paper slipped
from my hands and a terrible sickening fear came over me. What
has habit been doing to me? The habit of finding fault, of
reprimanding-this was my reward to you for being a boy. It
was not that I did not love you; it was that I expected too
much of youth. I was measuring you by the yardstick of my own
years.

And there was so much that was good and fine and true in your
character. The little heart of you was as big as the dawn
itself over the wide hills. This was shown by your spontaneous
impulse to rush in and kiss me good night. Nothing else matters
tonight, son. I have come to your bedside in the darkness, and
I have knelt there, ashamed!

It is feeble atonement; I know you would not understand these
things if I told them to you during your waking hours. But
tomorrow I will be a real daddy! I will chum with you, and suffer
when you suffer, and laugh when you laugh. I will bite my
tongue when impatient words come. I will keep saying as if it
were a ritual: "He is nothing but a boy-a little boy!"

I am afraid I have visualized you as a man. Yet as I see you
now, son, crumpled and weary in your cot, I see that you are
still a baby. Yesterday you were in your mother's arms, your
head on her shoulder. I have asked too much, too much.

What has habit been doing to you?

Poor Zippy

Poor Zippy had to go and meet Santa. They even put reindeer antlers on his noggin. He's in deep depression now. I hope he snaps out of it.

Go here to see the video. Warning. Pitiful images.

Motivated to do Nothing

Lots to do and I don't feel like doing any of it. Ever feel that way?

With Heather working a second job, I'm bringing a lot of work home. I have to complete a Department of Commerce survey, and I have to review the new warehouse standard, all 33 pages of it, and write a report on where we are currently compliant, and where we aren't. I also started a new team to do a deep dive on every late order we ship, which requires a weekly meeting that lasts about 2 hours. The meeting is for decision making only, so a lot of prep goes into it. We spent three hours working on a flow chart for ONE late order reason code. There are 15 codes. We did this so we have a systematic approach to doing a root cause investigation. Lots of pain in the ass work in the beginning, but I think we will end up with a document that we can share around the business when we are done. The plant manager is back from China, so he'll probably blow it to hell anyways. He goes back in January for 2 more months, so I just need to get him to give me some space to develop the team.

It just occurred to me that nobody cares about this...

I have to write a 2500 page paper due on Friday for Art. Ick. Haven't started that one yet. I need to find time to learn to play the new guitar I just purchased.

I had started running a few months ago, but had to stop after the cough became too much. Glad to say that after a little over three months that the cough is gone. I had been doing the cart instead of running, but I found I was still eating poorly after that. The cart is walking at a 10% incline while leaning into the handles...like pushing a cart uphill. Burns lots of calories, but after doing this for 30 mins, I feel fine after 1 minute off the treadmill. So I didn't feel like I had worked that hard, so it was easy to get back into the habit of heading for the fridge. No soreness or weak muscles to remind me how hard I had worked. Gonna have to start running again, which I hate. Hated it it in the Army and still hate it.

I think this qualifies as boring now.

I don't think we'll be heading to New York on Christmas eve like we did last year. That's kind of a bummer. We're going to have to figure something else out so we aren't sitting at home alone. Can't go home, so to the family reading this, don't expect a surprise visit.

I get to go to Los Angeles in January for work, and I may also get to go to GE in South Carolina to help with a root cause investigation. Time out and about on work is always good. Gotta get that name out there.

We're going to yet another Keith Urban concert on Valentine's day. This time he is with Carrie Underwood at Hershey, Pa.

Should I get this tattoo on my inner forearm? I'm thinking no. Like the style, but not sure I want to cover it up sometimes. As I try and climb the corporate ladder, I think people will judge me by having a tattoo on my arm. Decisions. Decisions.

The end of slideshows?

Thanksgiving 2007

Another Thanksgiving come and gone.

Since we're "alone", we tried to make the best of it. The temperature was around 65, so we went outside and played. We ended up playing baseball out in the street, which is one of the favorite things I used to do as a kid. Zippy was able to get into the fun by catching foul balls.

We had a quick video call with all the family back in Illinois. That was chaotic, but the girls enjoyed it. With all the noise and madness over at my brother's, I was almost thankful for our quiet time at home.

I was asked about 20 times by 20 different people if we were going home for Thanksgiving. Funny how people just assume you go home for every holiday. We may not have the rest of our family around, but what we have is enough. We were thankful to spend Thanksgiving together as a family, even if it was just the 4 of us.

British Scientists Kill Oldest Living Animal

This is special for Paul. Check out the comments. Quite amusing.

Video taken by Heather

Keith Urban Concert #2

Heather and I enjoyed the Keith Urban in concert so much in Philadelphia we decided to go see him in Buffalo (about a 6 hour trip). One of her friends was nice (insane) enough to drive to a different state and watch Jenna and Ainsley over the weekend. Unfortunately, Ainsley was a monster. For the short time I watched her two boys on Friday night, they were angels. I don't think I have a friend that would be willing to watch my kids over the weekend.

The final portrait just in case we don't make it back...




Keith Urban


Heather had a fun time taking pictures of Pennsylvania trees. Here's some snow in the Poconos.



The new GPS to replace the one that was stolen from Heather's van while at the mall. Bastards. check out the straight Pennsylvania roads.


We made an impromptu stop at Niagara Falls.



More Pennsylvania scenery. This time, on the way back.




Pigs don't fly, but they do go by truck.

Tell a Friend You Look Like A Hippo on the Verge of a Heart Attack

Zappy

I wanted to wait until I took some pictures for this post, but I can't wait any longer. The other day, Jenna took Zippy for a walk around the block. When she got back, she let the dog outside without taking off his pinch collar or putting on his collar for the invisible fence. (Insert picture of collar here) The dog, realizing he just walked out of the yard a few minutes ago, made a run for it. Heather grabbed his collar for the invisible fence and put it in her pocket. Why she did this is unclear. It's not like we use it to walk him, and he already had his pinch collar on. Anyways, the house down the street also uses the same invisible fence that we do. (Insert picture of warning on their mailbox here) Do you see where I'm going with this? While bee-bopping down the sidewalk, Heather got zapped from the neighbor's invisible fence. If only I was there to see her jump when she got juiced.

Only Heather. You gotta love her.

More Bears Vs Eagles Pictures

Do you see that?



Check out the dude on the right mid-dive.



Dirt flying.






Pointing (again)


It's in the air. do you see it? The defense does.


Fumble on the third yard line. FFS!