My nephew Luke is 20 months old now and is just barely starting to learn a few words aside from his normal gibberish (which I think is a combination of French, Spanish, Russian, German, and Chinese... and a smattering of northern Minnesotan). His word of choice at the present time is "hi". From the opening of a door to the opening of an eye, he'll greet you with his limited vocabulary of "hi" about 80 times in a row. Another "word" he has aquired is "la". "La" happens to mean "bye-bye", though when I first heard him say the word, it took me a while to translate what exactly he was trying to communicate with me until it was accompanied by a waving hand gesturing for me to get out. I am also quite proud to say that, other than boring old ma and pa, he can say my name. He addresses me as Rob or Ra-Ra, depending on his mood and laziness factor.
Not everything he babbles about always makes sense however. More and more lately, I am starting to pick up subtleties thinking he really is trying to say something coherent underneath all the mumbles and jumbles. You can ask him a question and he will respond. Though I don't really comprehend what he is trying to tell me, I will nod in agreement and smile as though I'm following along with everything he is telling me.
For instance, at lunch today I was being lazy and lying on the couch while he used my legs as a highway for his Matchbox cars. I asked him a simple question: "Lukie! Are you going to go swimming in the pool this afternoon?" To which he responded: "Aye bloob a doob flerple nerples mathwich." Or something to that extent. I didn't get a direct quote so I had to paraphrase. Now, in my mind I tried to translate his crazy reply to which I guess he was telling me that either he (A) was going swimming this afternoon and he was very excited; or he (B) was mowing and trimming a spoon and he was merry exited. No matter what, I got lost along the way and before I could clarify what exactly he was trying to tell me in response to my question, he was in the other room talking to the TV.
Not everything is as confusing as the above incident - there will always be the clear answer of "NO" where he throws himself to the ground in the most dramatic fashion and puts his head on the floor shaking it back and forth while whining and screaming. The terrible two's are coming... I'd better brace myself.
Monday, July 31, 2006
Friday, July 28, 2006
Crappity, Crap, Crap, Crap!
Picture this: attempting to collect your own "specimen" in a teeny tiny cup; then having to scoop small amounts of the "specimen" and mix it into a vile filled with preservative to make sure you don't have a parasite from Mexico, which your friends have so lovingly named "Pepe".
That's hot.
That's hot.
Thursday, July 27, 2006
Why yes, Jimmy! You ARE a Transport American...
So I didn't blog yesterday. Oops. I said I'd blog something every day. So I'm blogging today and I'll try and make it longer to compensate for yesterdays lack of motivation.
So even though I detest my job and have been crapped on by trick-ass management more times than I'd like to say, it was suggested that I write about a day in the life of a Transport America slave. So, a la the dreamy Sven Sundgaard, here is my day:
5:15 - Alarm starts beeping because Matthew needs extra time to wake up. Repeat this annoyance about 5-6 more times until he gets up.
6:00 - Matthew comes back from showering and rubs my back until I wake up... I think about rolling over and slapping him for waking me up from my dream about Sven. I think maybe my dream has come true and Sven is actually rubbing my back, roll over, nope, still Matt ;-) Get up.
6:04 - Stand in front of bathroom mirror and put in my contacts and hop in the shower. Sing something like "Defying Gravity" from "Wicked" to entertain myself. Sometimes make it a duet with Matthew while he finishes getting ready.
6:13 - Kiss Matthew goodbye as he jaunts off to work so he can support our lavish lifestyle.
6:15 - Finish getting ready and dress myself. Yes, I do dress myself.
6:30 - Walk 83 miles to my car down in the parking lot and drive to work. During my drive I take time to reflect on how much I loathe TA, I participate in solo sing-a-longs, think about the weekend, and yell at crummy morning drivers.
7:00 - Arrive at my desk (give or take 5 minutes) and log into my computer. While it's logging in I look out our floor to ceiling windows longing for the outside world and 4pm to hurry up and roll around.
7:15 to 12:00 - I usually spend this time working; HOWEVER, a lot of it is spent slacking off on the internet, emailing friends, talking to my sister who works here, and blogging. I always get my work done pretty quickly, so I have a lot of time on my hands.
12:00-1:00 - Lunch! WOOHOO! I get an hour away from this crap hole!
1:00-4:00 - Work, chat, email, and of course, surf the internet.
4:00 - FREEDOM!!! Tear out to my car as fast as my little legs will carry me... throw on my shades and crank up the music. Peel out of the parking lot and avoid plowing down nice co-workers... the ones I don't like so much I narrowly avoid.
4:27 - I get home and Matt and I sit around watching the last half of Oprah and make dinner.
6:30 - Wheel of Fortune!!! Yell out the answer to the puzzle long before the players get it and then yell at the players like an old man for being stupid. Think about applying to be on the show because I know I could make a haul.
The rest of the night's activities varies and depends on what we have planned. We are usually in bed by 10 because we're a couple of grandpas.
There you have it. It might be kind of boring, but......... you'd be right! :)
So even though I detest my job and have been crapped on by trick-ass management more times than I'd like to say, it was suggested that I write about a day in the life of a Transport America slave. So, a la the dreamy Sven Sundgaard, here is my day:
5:15 - Alarm starts beeping because Matthew needs extra time to wake up. Repeat this annoyance about 5-6 more times until he gets up.
6:00 - Matthew comes back from showering and rubs my back until I wake up... I think about rolling over and slapping him for waking me up from my dream about Sven. I think maybe my dream has come true and Sven is actually rubbing my back, roll over, nope, still Matt ;-) Get up.
6:04 - Stand in front of bathroom mirror and put in my contacts and hop in the shower. Sing something like "Defying Gravity" from "Wicked" to entertain myself. Sometimes make it a duet with Matthew while he finishes getting ready.
6:13 - Kiss Matthew goodbye as he jaunts off to work so he can support our lavish lifestyle.
6:15 - Finish getting ready and dress myself. Yes, I do dress myself.
6:30 - Walk 83 miles to my car down in the parking lot and drive to work. During my drive I take time to reflect on how much I loathe TA, I participate in solo sing-a-longs, think about the weekend, and yell at crummy morning drivers.
7:00 - Arrive at my desk (give or take 5 minutes) and log into my computer. While it's logging in I look out our floor to ceiling windows longing for the outside world and 4pm to hurry up and roll around.
7:15 to 12:00 - I usually spend this time working; HOWEVER, a lot of it is spent slacking off on the internet, emailing friends, talking to my sister who works here, and blogging. I always get my work done pretty quickly, so I have a lot of time on my hands.
12:00-1:00 - Lunch! WOOHOO! I get an hour away from this crap hole!
1:00-4:00 - Work, chat, email, and of course, surf the internet.
4:00 - FREEDOM!!! Tear out to my car as fast as my little legs will carry me... throw on my shades and crank up the music. Peel out of the parking lot and avoid plowing down nice co-workers... the ones I don't like so much I narrowly avoid.
4:27 - I get home and Matt and I sit around watching the last half of Oprah and make dinner.
6:30 - Wheel of Fortune!!! Yell out the answer to the puzzle long before the players get it and then yell at the players like an old man for being stupid. Think about applying to be on the show because I know I could make a haul.
The rest of the night's activities varies and depends on what we have planned. We are usually in bed by 10 because we're a couple of grandpas.
There you have it. It might be kind of boring, but......... you'd be right! :)
Tuesday, July 25, 2006
Dust Yourself Off and Try Again...
I gave up on blogging a while back after I decided no one was really reading anything I had to say. That or people were reading, but just didn't comment on my boring musings of my life. Sometimes writing something everyday got to be more of a chore than anything; however, I really do love to write.
It was always a passion of mine when I was a kid to write. I could sit in front of a keyboard and put my little imagination to work and whip out a story in an hour. I'd write family newsletters complete with a weather forecast (courtesy of someone like Paul Douglas or Ken Barlow of course) and a comic section. I was encouraged most to write by my 9th grade english teacher, Mrs. Born. She was a huge fan of my writings and always told me what a wonderful style and dry sense of humor I had in my pieces. She even went as far as giving me an award at the 9th grade awards ceremony saying I'd be the first published writer of my graduating class.
Well all of that passion and imagination kind of went down the drain when I got into my senior year of high school and college and was forced to write endless scores of research papers and legal summaries for some law classes I took. Doing something like that for 4 years really sucks any and all ambition and cleverness right out of a person. There was a brief stint when I studied in Paris my junior year of college when I had to write all my papers in french. That kind of lit a flame under my derriere for a while and made me feel like a true writer since most great authors/thinkers from the last century were french. Simone de Beauvoire. Jean Paul Sartre. And as much as I hate reading her work - Marguerite Duras. However, as much fun as writing en fraincais and pretending to be philosophical while sipping my espresso in a sidewalk cafe was, I was quickly brought back to reality by my french professors form of love and praise for my work. When I say love and praise, I mean breaking a student down mentally and verbally to the level of an infant, building them back up, and then ripping them a new rear end. All the while scolding you in french and smelling of bad cheese and body odor.
But, I overcame that little speedbump and managed to pump out some of my best work my senior year of college via my political science senior thesis and french portfolio. Writing got put on the back burner after college and I kind of missed writing the dreaded research paper. All those years of loathing and spite for writing those late night papers actually tured out to be a secret love of mine. Thus, inspired by some friends who had blogs and one quite notable blog by Stephanie Klein called Greek Tragedy (which, if you haven't read her blog before, I highly suggest it, and check out her new book), I began my own blog here.
I've been really bad at keeping up with this, hence the two month gap between my last post and this one, I am making a resolution, a la Miss Klein's once upon a time, to write every day. Whether it be something as little as 5 sentences or as long as a novel, write every day. We shouldn't let laziness get in the way of something we're passionate about. A passion sets us free from everyday stresses like work and gives us a chance to enjoy life. Writing is a passion and I shouldn't let it die because I feel like I have nothing to write about. If I'm passionate about it, I'll find something to write about.
Stay tuned my friends. Hopefully you'll see great things on this blog!
It was always a passion of mine when I was a kid to write. I could sit in front of a keyboard and put my little imagination to work and whip out a story in an hour. I'd write family newsletters complete with a weather forecast (courtesy of someone like Paul Douglas or Ken Barlow of course) and a comic section. I was encouraged most to write by my 9th grade english teacher, Mrs. Born. She was a huge fan of my writings and always told me what a wonderful style and dry sense of humor I had in my pieces. She even went as far as giving me an award at the 9th grade awards ceremony saying I'd be the first published writer of my graduating class.
Well all of that passion and imagination kind of went down the drain when I got into my senior year of high school and college and was forced to write endless scores of research papers and legal summaries for some law classes I took. Doing something like that for 4 years really sucks any and all ambition and cleverness right out of a person. There was a brief stint when I studied in Paris my junior year of college when I had to write all my papers in french. That kind of lit a flame under my derriere for a while and made me feel like a true writer since most great authors/thinkers from the last century were french. Simone de Beauvoire. Jean Paul Sartre. And as much as I hate reading her work - Marguerite Duras. However, as much fun as writing en fraincais and pretending to be philosophical while sipping my espresso in a sidewalk cafe was, I was quickly brought back to reality by my french professors form of love and praise for my work. When I say love and praise, I mean breaking a student down mentally and verbally to the level of an infant, building them back up, and then ripping them a new rear end. All the while scolding you in french and smelling of bad cheese and body odor.
But, I overcame that little speedbump and managed to pump out some of my best work my senior year of college via my political science senior thesis and french portfolio. Writing got put on the back burner after college and I kind of missed writing the dreaded research paper. All those years of loathing and spite for writing those late night papers actually tured out to be a secret love of mine. Thus, inspired by some friends who had blogs and one quite notable blog by Stephanie Klein called Greek Tragedy (which, if you haven't read her blog before, I highly suggest it, and check out her new book), I began my own blog here.
I've been really bad at keeping up with this, hence the two month gap between my last post and this one, I am making a resolution, a la Miss Klein's once upon a time, to write every day. Whether it be something as little as 5 sentences or as long as a novel, write every day. We shouldn't let laziness get in the way of something we're passionate about. A passion sets us free from everyday stresses like work and gives us a chance to enjoy life. Writing is a passion and I shouldn't let it die because I feel like I have nothing to write about. If I'm passionate about it, I'll find something to write about.
Stay tuned my friends. Hopefully you'll see great things on this blog!
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