Wednesday, February 01, 2006
I Think I Have a Soda Problem
Today was a busy day for me, between trying to calm a cranky child and trying to get homework done. Oh yeah, and finishing our master bath and finding a job. And trying to think of what the hell I'm going to give a speech about at my graduation and coming up with a biography. All that and I had to go shopping for some groceries.
I used to hate grocery shopping. I avoided it like the plague. Actually, more than the plague. Because, honestly, when's the last time anyone's actually attempted to avoid the plague. I might try to avoid avian flu or something, but the plague? That went out with flannel in the 1990's, if I remember my history correctly. Besides, how in the hell would I avoid the plague? Would I just not answer the phone if the caller ID said "Plague"? Would it knock at the door? Would it run away scared at my dog like all the guys who put flyers on our doorknob? I'm getting off the point.
When I lived in Boston oh so many years ago, I refused to go grocery shopping. This wasn't as difficult as you might think. First of all, I worked at a company that had free lunch. They also put food in the fridge in case you had to work late at night. Second, I was studying for actuarial exams, so I was always staying late at work, studying and eating. Third, in Boston you can't buy liquor in grocery stores. Had to run to the packy (package store), which is where I made all my beer purchases. Fourth (and last), I ordered a lot of pizza and went out for nachos and beer at Sunset Grille quite often.
(Actually, that website sucks. Here's a good one with pictures of the place that almost brings tears to my eyes. I used to go to this place EVERY weekend for 3 years. They had the best damn nachos in the world. I'd kill someone right now for some of them.)
Anyway, combining the free food at work, my study/work habits, my beer purchases, and my eating habits, I didn't have a whole lot of grocery shopping to do. (And shockingly, I gained like 30-40 pounds in the 3 years I lived out there. Damned shocking, I say.)
Another reason I hated shopping out there was that I lived in a very "collegy" area. I was smack dab in the middle of Boston College and Boston University, less than 5 miles from each campus. So, the grocery stores (and I think there were 3 in all of Eastern Mass.) were always packed. In fact, I usually spent longer in line than I did shopping. Very annoying.
Lately though, I've found that I'm actually starting to enjoy grocery shopping. One reason is that you can't swing a retarded bagger without hitting a grocery store. There are 2 Dominick's within 1.5 miles of my house. How does that make sense logistically? Maybe that's why Dominick's isn't doing so well. But ironically, that's why I love their stores. There's never anyone in them. Anyway, if you factor in Sam's and Target, there's just plenty of grocery options within 3 miles of my house.
In addition, I'm unemployed and I have been for some time. There are few advantages to being unemployed. One of them is being able to watch The Price Is Right every day. Another is being able to go grocery shopping with all the senior citizens. They're so easy to knock out of the way!
So today I went to Sam's to pick up a few things. We were running low on Diet Coke, which is Wet Blanket's favorite soda. At Sam's, you have to buy 4 2-liters of soda at once. So I bought 4 Diet Cokes for Wet Blanket. (Of course, she's cutting back on her soda intake, so that was probably a stupid purchase.)
After Sam's, I ran to Dominick's. I strolled down the soda aisle and I found out that all the Coke products were $0.79! What a deal, what a steal! Generally, I only like one Coke product: Diet Vanilla Coke, which they discontinued. Jerks. Since I just bought 8 liters of Diet Coke that won't get drunk this decade, I decided to just ignore the deal. Then I saw that there was a coupon for Coke Zero. If I bought 2 2-liters of any Coke product, I got a free Coke Zero. Now, I don't really like Coke Zero much. But, I could get 3 2-liters for just $1.58!!! How could I possibly pass this up? I couldn't. I tried. Believe me, I tried. But I'm such a weak man.
I ended up buying another 2 2-liters of Diet Coke (with a twist of lime) and getting the Coke Zero for free. So the net soda purchase for the day? 7 2-liters of soda that we really don't need.
And the best part of the story? I completely forgot to buy the dental floss that I desperately need. So tomorrow I'll probably drag Luke back to the grocery store with me so the checkout lady can give me more parenting advice. Well at least I can pick up some more Diet Coke while I'm there.
I used to hate grocery shopping. I avoided it like the plague. Actually, more than the plague. Because, honestly, when's the last time anyone's actually attempted to avoid the plague. I might try to avoid avian flu or something, but the plague? That went out with flannel in the 1990's, if I remember my history correctly. Besides, how in the hell would I avoid the plague? Would I just not answer the phone if the caller ID said "Plague"? Would it knock at the door? Would it run away scared at my dog like all the guys who put flyers on our doorknob? I'm getting off the point.
When I lived in Boston oh so many years ago, I refused to go grocery shopping. This wasn't as difficult as you might think. First of all, I worked at a company that had free lunch. They also put food in the fridge in case you had to work late at night. Second, I was studying for actuarial exams, so I was always staying late at work, studying and eating. Third, in Boston you can't buy liquor in grocery stores. Had to run to the packy (package store), which is where I made all my beer purchases. Fourth (and last), I ordered a lot of pizza and went out for nachos and beer at Sunset Grille quite often.
(Actually, that website sucks. Here's a good one with pictures of the place that almost brings tears to my eyes. I used to go to this place EVERY weekend for 3 years. They had the best damn nachos in the world. I'd kill someone right now for some of them.)
Anyway, combining the free food at work, my study/work habits, my beer purchases, and my eating habits, I didn't have a whole lot of grocery shopping to do. (And shockingly, I gained like 30-40 pounds in the 3 years I lived out there. Damned shocking, I say.)
Another reason I hated shopping out there was that I lived in a very "collegy" area. I was smack dab in the middle of Boston College and Boston University, less than 5 miles from each campus. So, the grocery stores (and I think there were 3 in all of Eastern Mass.) were always packed. In fact, I usually spent longer in line than I did shopping. Very annoying.
Lately though, I've found that I'm actually starting to enjoy grocery shopping. One reason is that you can't swing a retarded bagger without hitting a grocery store. There are 2 Dominick's within 1.5 miles of my house. How does that make sense logistically? Maybe that's why Dominick's isn't doing so well. But ironically, that's why I love their stores. There's never anyone in them. Anyway, if you factor in Sam's and Target, there's just plenty of grocery options within 3 miles of my house.
In addition, I'm unemployed and I have been for some time. There are few advantages to being unemployed. One of them is being able to watch The Price Is Right every day. Another is being able to go grocery shopping with all the senior citizens. They're so easy to knock out of the way!
So today I went to Sam's to pick up a few things. We were running low on Diet Coke, which is Wet Blanket's favorite soda. At Sam's, you have to buy 4 2-liters of soda at once. So I bought 4 Diet Cokes for Wet Blanket. (Of course, she's cutting back on her soda intake, so that was probably a stupid purchase.)
After Sam's, I ran to Dominick's. I strolled down the soda aisle and I found out that all the Coke products were $0.79! What a deal, what a steal! Generally, I only like one Coke product: Diet Vanilla Coke, which they discontinued. Jerks. Since I just bought 8 liters of Diet Coke that won't get drunk this decade, I decided to just ignore the deal. Then I saw that there was a coupon for Coke Zero. If I bought 2 2-liters of any Coke product, I got a free Coke Zero. Now, I don't really like Coke Zero much. But, I could get 3 2-liters for just $1.58!!! How could I possibly pass this up? I couldn't. I tried. Believe me, I tried. But I'm such a weak man.
I ended up buying another 2 2-liters of Diet Coke (with a twist of lime) and getting the Coke Zero for free. So the net soda purchase for the day? 7 2-liters of soda that we really don't need.
And the best part of the story? I completely forgot to buy the dental floss that I desperately need. So tomorrow I'll probably drag Luke back to the grocery store with me so the checkout lady can give me more parenting advice. Well at least I can pick up some more Diet Coke while I'm there.
Look Who's All Grows Up!
As my last semester of business school wraps up, preparations for graduation have begun. As President of a student organization, I've been working a lot with the MBA office. Well, much to my surprise, they asked me to speak at graduation.
I thought about it for awhile. I thought about getting stage fright. I thought about coming up with a good enough speech. I thought about all the chicks I'll get. (Which is zero, by the way. Chicks don't dig speakers. Unless they're a huge pair of Sony speakers and they're in the back of your conversion van.) I figured there would be about 200 MBA students graduating. I know a lot of them, so it'd be like giving a speech in a class. No big deal.
Well, on Monday I went to the MBA office to tell them I was going to do it. That's when I found out that I wouldn't be giving a speech for the MBA students. I'd be giving the speech for the entire college of business. That's about 800 students and about 4000 people (friends and family) in total. Eek.
I'm still going to give the speech though. And I'm pretty excited about it. I have to figure out a good way to be funny and deliver a message. The message? Fat, drunk and stupid is no way to go through life. Or something like that anyway.
The hard part right now is that I need to come up with a biography by Friday. I was originally told that this would be a 1-page bio that goes in the graduation ceremony handout. I just about crapped my pants. I haven't done enough in my life to fill 1 whole page. I'd have to water it down with stories about my brothers beating me up. Maybe I can add that I took 4th place in wrestling regionals my senior year. Or that I had the Driver's Ed teachers trying to run me down because of a story I wrote in the school paper. Or that I hate cops. That should get me a lot of support from the security guards. Honestly, there's little in this world that makes you feel more pathetic than having to write a biography and not being able to get past 1 paragraph.
I thought about it for awhile. I thought about getting stage fright. I thought about coming up with a good enough speech. I thought about all the chicks I'll get. (Which is zero, by the way. Chicks don't dig speakers. Unless they're a huge pair of Sony speakers and they're in the back of your conversion van.) I figured there would be about 200 MBA students graduating. I know a lot of them, so it'd be like giving a speech in a class. No big deal.
Well, on Monday I went to the MBA office to tell them I was going to do it. That's when I found out that I wouldn't be giving a speech for the MBA students. I'd be giving the speech for the entire college of business. That's about 800 students and about 4000 people (friends and family) in total. Eek.
I'm still going to give the speech though. And I'm pretty excited about it. I have to figure out a good way to be funny and deliver a message. The message? Fat, drunk and stupid is no way to go through life. Or something like that anyway.
The hard part right now is that I need to come up with a biography by Friday. I was originally told that this would be a 1-page bio that goes in the graduation ceremony handout. I just about crapped my pants. I haven't done enough in my life to fill 1 whole page. I'd have to water it down with stories about my brothers beating me up. Maybe I can add that I took 4th place in wrestling regionals my senior year. Or that I had the Driver's Ed teachers trying to run me down because of a story I wrote in the school paper. Or that I hate cops. That should get me a lot of support from the security guards. Honestly, there's little in this world that makes you feel more pathetic than having to write a biography and not being able to get past 1 paragraph.
Tuesday, January 31, 2006
Cruelty to Animals
One of my favorite pastimes is abusing my dog, Mocha. Mocha's a pit bull/lab (we think) mix. She has a bit of an attitude problem. Specifically, she likes to bite people and finds other dogs especially tasty. But if you ignore her attacking my friends and their pets, she's a great dog. Except for the puking and shitting in the house. Okay, maybe she's not so great after all. But she's fun to abuse, and that's got to count for something.
I like the normal dog abuse that other people enjoy. For example, I'll do the old hidden ball trick. Except, I like to finish it by hitting her in the head with it when she starts looking under the couch. If only I could hit her head consistently, because I wasn't Roger Clemens in little league. I was more like a less-svelt (and less-black) Cecil Fielder.
Another favorite torture method is to get the dog all excited and then play mind games. Yes, I know playing mind games with Mocha isn't quite the same as a chess match with Gary Kasparov, but it's more stimulating than my Cost Accounting class. Usually, what I do is stand at the top of the stairs and tell Mocha, "Downstairs!" She'll haul ass down the stairs and look up at me to see what's taking me so long. Then, of course, I call Mocha back upstairs. This goes on and on, with Mocha getting more and more excited every time. I think that if I kept it up for more than 10 minutes, she'd have an embolism. Unfortunately, The Wife likes to play Wet Blanket. (I think that should be her new nickname by the way. I'm not fond of The Wife. I don't like her web name, Elisette. I have to come up with something. Suggestions?) She usually tells me to stop because she's trying to sleep or something. The nerve of some people. Such Wet Blankets!
Anyway, today I scared the hell out of Mocha. I get home from class around 9:00 or 9:30. By that time Wet Blanket (I don't think I like this name either. Wet Blanket definitely won't like it.) is way asleep. And so is Mocha, who usually falls asleep on my side of the bed. Lately, Mocha's been sleeping pretty heavy (probably because she's getting about 5-6 cups of food a day thanks to our efforts at fattening her up and Luke's efforts at dropping everything from his high chair). So when I come home, she doesn't always wake up.
Well, I was in the office, writing my last blog post. I had to head downstairs to refresh my beer. Mocha heard me going down the stairs and followed me. I decided to hide in the pantry to see what she did. She stopped by her dog bowl to get a drink. I thought about jumping out from the pantry. Then I remembered how she likes to bite people and animals when she's scared. Ultimately, I thought it'd be worth a gaping wound to scare the crap out of her. So I jumped out and yelled "BAH!" She jumped about 2 feet making me laugh out loud.
And that's exactly what I needed today. Luke woke up at 3:45 this morning, so I got little sleep. Then I was busy on campus today with classes and meetings. Then after my last class, I was walking to my car, about a mile or so away. I was a little over halfway when I realized I'd forgotten my binder with all my class notes in them. Shit. I need that. So I had to turn around and go get it. Of course, the building was locked. Fortunately, one of the adjoining buildings wasn't and I was able to procure my shitty notes, which will really be of no help to me at all this semester. But at least now I have them back. Anyway, Mocha, I know that you're going to die a little earlier now because we're fattening you up and I'm trying to give you a heart attack. But thanks for putting a good ending on an otherwise miserable day.
I like the normal dog abuse that other people enjoy. For example, I'll do the old hidden ball trick. Except, I like to finish it by hitting her in the head with it when she starts looking under the couch. If only I could hit her head consistently, because I wasn't Roger Clemens in little league. I was more like a less-svelt (and less-black) Cecil Fielder.
Another favorite torture method is to get the dog all excited and then play mind games. Yes, I know playing mind games with Mocha isn't quite the same as a chess match with Gary Kasparov, but it's more stimulating than my Cost Accounting class. Usually, what I do is stand at the top of the stairs and tell Mocha, "Downstairs!" She'll haul ass down the stairs and look up at me to see what's taking me so long. Then, of course, I call Mocha back upstairs. This goes on and on, with Mocha getting more and more excited every time. I think that if I kept it up for more than 10 minutes, she'd have an embolism. Unfortunately, The Wife likes to play Wet Blanket. (I think that should be her new nickname by the way. I'm not fond of The Wife. I don't like her web name, Elisette. I have to come up with something. Suggestions?) She usually tells me to stop because she's trying to sleep or something. The nerve of some people. Such Wet Blankets!
Anyway, today I scared the hell out of Mocha. I get home from class around 9:00 or 9:30. By that time Wet Blanket (I don't think I like this name either. Wet Blanket definitely won't like it.) is way asleep. And so is Mocha, who usually falls asleep on my side of the bed. Lately, Mocha's been sleeping pretty heavy (probably because she's getting about 5-6 cups of food a day thanks to our efforts at fattening her up and Luke's efforts at dropping everything from his high chair). So when I come home, she doesn't always wake up.
Well, I was in the office, writing my last blog post. I had to head downstairs to refresh my beer. Mocha heard me going down the stairs and followed me. I decided to hide in the pantry to see what she did. She stopped by her dog bowl to get a drink. I thought about jumping out from the pantry. Then I remembered how she likes to bite people and animals when she's scared. Ultimately, I thought it'd be worth a gaping wound to scare the crap out of her. So I jumped out and yelled "BAH!" She jumped about 2 feet making me laugh out loud.
And that's exactly what I needed today. Luke woke up at 3:45 this morning, so I got little sleep. Then I was busy on campus today with classes and meetings. Then after my last class, I was walking to my car, about a mile or so away. I was a little over halfway when I realized I'd forgotten my binder with all my class notes in them. Shit. I need that. So I had to turn around and go get it. Of course, the building was locked. Fortunately, one of the adjoining buildings wasn't and I was able to procure my shitty notes, which will really be of no help to me at all this semester. But at least now I have them back. Anyway, Mocha, I know that you're going to die a little earlier now because we're fattening you up and I'm trying to give you a heart attack. But thanks for putting a good ending on an otherwise miserable day.
Stupid Trivia
I like trivia. For some reason, I have a knack for remembering stupid facts that have no bearing on my life. Meanwhile, I can't remember how old I am. I mean, why would I need to know that anyway?
The Wife created a trivia group on funtrivia.com and I try to play every day. Basically, you're asked 10 questions. Depending on how many you answer correctly and how quickly you answer them, you're assigned points for the day. At the end of the month, they add up all the points and declare a monthly winner. Well, I keep getting screwed.
Since joining the group, here are my finishes:
The Wife created a trivia group on funtrivia.com and I try to play every day. Basically, you're asked 10 questions. Depending on how many you answer correctly and how quickly you answer them, you're assigned points for the day. At the end of the month, they add up all the points and declare a monthly winner. Well, I keep getting screwed.
Since joining the group, here are my finishes:
- September (2)
- October (5)
- November (2)
- December (3)
- January (2)
I feel like I'm destined to finish in 2nd place every month. Making matters worse is that of the 3 times I finished 2nd, I've lost by a combined 5 points. Where's the justice?
I'm clearly the best trivia player in this group. My problem? I keep forgetting to play. It's hard when you don't have a regular job. When I was working full-time, I had a routine. Get in, check my Yahoo email, check ESPN.com, pretend to study for an actuarial exam, take a nap, check Yahoo again, and so forth. It would have been easy to slide a trivia game in there, but now I can't even slide a NAP in! How the hell can I remember a trivia game?
And if that weren't bad enough, some jerks have been playing on weekends when nobody else plays. In fact, the guy who beat me this month did that for like 3 weekends this month. That alone explains the 1 point he beat me by. Jerk. I'll admit that I'm a big loser for (a) knowing all this trivia and (b) being competitive about it. But this guy's an even bigger loser because he has to play when nobody else is.
And yes, I hope he's reading this. Cuz I've officially laid the smack down. And I'm gonna totally kick your ass next month. I just wonder who's going to take 1st place though, because it sure as hell ain't gonna be me. But I know it ain't gonna be you either, Hogie. I'm coming after you!!!! (And yes, I've officially gone crazy.)
Sunday, January 29, 2006
Lunch with Papa
On Sunday, the family went over to my Papa's (maternal grandfather's) house. Papa's 86 and in a wheelchair. He has a live-in nurse, a Lithuanian woman who doesn't speak much English. She does make a mean vegetable soup though. Very tasty.
Anyway, as we were sitting around with my Papa, The Wife asked him some stories. He told us about his first apartment (at 22nd and Western) after he married my Nana (who passed away a couple of years ago). It was a 2-room apartment: kitchen and bedroom. They moved across the street a little while later to a 3-room apartment, picking up a living room. I think you have to REALLY love the person you married if you're going to live in a place that small. Maybe that's why the birth rate was so much higher back then....
The Wife asked Papa about how he met Nana. (Despite having known these people my entire life, I'd never heard this story.) He said that they got fixed up on a blind date. I found this amusing since The Wife and I met on a blind date thanks to Yahoo! Personals. Papa had a cousin A.C. (short for "All Crap," as my Papa said) who was trying to fix him up with the woman that lived in the apartment beneath him. My Papa kept saying "no," but got worn down. Eventually, he agreed to meet this woman. In Papa's own words, "As soon as I saw her, with those big eyes and big tits, I knew I'd marry her."
That's my Papa for you. And so if you ever wonder where I get my sense of humor, now you know.
Anyway, as we were sitting around with my Papa, The Wife asked him some stories. He told us about his first apartment (at 22nd and Western) after he married my Nana (who passed away a couple of years ago). It was a 2-room apartment: kitchen and bedroom. They moved across the street a little while later to a 3-room apartment, picking up a living room. I think you have to REALLY love the person you married if you're going to live in a place that small. Maybe that's why the birth rate was so much higher back then....
The Wife asked Papa about how he met Nana. (Despite having known these people my entire life, I'd never heard this story.) He said that they got fixed up on a blind date. I found this amusing since The Wife and I met on a blind date thanks to Yahoo! Personals. Papa had a cousin A.C. (short for "All Crap," as my Papa said) who was trying to fix him up with the woman that lived in the apartment beneath him. My Papa kept saying "no," but got worn down. Eventually, he agreed to meet this woman. In Papa's own words, "As soon as I saw her, with those big eyes and big tits, I knew I'd marry her."
That's my Papa for you. And so if you ever wonder where I get my sense of humor, now you know.
