Sunday, February 29, 2004

ho hum...

"What's with you?"
"What are you talking about?"
"So, you got attitude now?"
"What are you talking about?"
"The way you're talking."
"That was my friendly Hello"
"You need to work on that. Where are you?"
"Home Depot"
"What are you doing there?"
"Getting sheetrock so hopefully I can finish the walls in the bathroom"
"That will be nice so then you can hang the flowers in my hall"
"Yeah, that's right, I need hooks"

and then the asshole with the cellphone continues his conversation by the welders at the back of tool aisle for another fifteen minutes.

I left my cart in the fastner aisle with the wallboard on it. I don't push a cart around if I don't have to. During my phone call, the folks at Home Depot decided to restock the aisle next to the fastner aisle and it was such a risky operation they had to close off both aisles. Their safety precautions only momentarily kept me from my items. They don't like you, the untrained customer to move the safety devices but the worst they can do is speak harshly to you.

I did get all the rocking done.


Harpoon's Hiberian Red Beer has returned.

Saturday, February 28, 2004

Quiet as a tear..


"You leaving? And they're staying? I thought you had more pull than that" said the manager of the Bar and Grill.
The best I could do was a shoulder shrug. A witty repartee wasn't coming.

We split a pizza, played Keno, the usual Friday lunch fare. I thought twice about going I was waiting on a phone call. The owner of the place rearranged patrons to fit us in. Liz was working the bar, Amy had the floor, Amy was having a tough day. One of us was complaining about the service, I half heartedly defended the service we were getting from Amy but my mind was elsewhere. The place was packed. The cheese pizza we ordered came with chicken. Those of the party that were Catholic weren't pleased with the free topping. We're not supposed to eat meat during Lent. Oh? But you can comment that you would lick Amy's ass?

Friday, February 27, 2004

okay, then..

Yesterday, there was a meeting with Operations to see how things are done, to gather information so the next big project can be started. I have never see how the signs are made, but I have a guess. I have never seen the computer program that is used for making the custom signs. This is the first time I have ever been in the back room where all this stuff happens.

I walk in with the my director and my supervisor, we're getting a demo and my supervisor asks, "Does that get saved to the com...

Dude, I writing myself notes. I sit for days busying myself and now you guys keep interrupting me. Go away. Yeah, I'll get you that map when I'm finished. I got different priorities than your map.

So back to the story...

my supervisor asks me if that (custom sign) gets saved to the computer. I say, "I guess so". Then he asks if the guy has standard signs on the computer. I say, "I imagine". It goes on like this for quite a few questions, my director and supervisor are asking me how this stuff works. So finally I say "this is the first time I have ever seen this stuff, I really don't know anything about it". Dudes, I walking in the same time as you, you guys pretty much set my schedule, when have I ever had opportunity to find out anything about this stuff?

Well, some questions get directed at the operator of the system and then back to me, by this time I have figured out that the system is basically just a desktop publishing system that can print on or cut vinyl, so I answer the questions, asking for confirmation from the operator.

Folks, feel free to speak to the operator directly.


I called Lady G at home at 7:05AM, she usually leave the house at 7:15AM, so I'm trying to time things to cut down on the inconvenience.

phone is ringing..."hello"

hold up, I gots to do a map, the guilt just kicked in....Okay, the map's printing.

phone is ringing..."hello"
"Hi, it's Tim,
"Has your mother left, yet?"
"No, she still asleep, she's not working today"
"Is that what she does on her birthday? I just called to say Happy Birthday before she left but I guess I can do that later, see ya"

So now I have to change my wardrobe, just in case I can fanagle a lunch date at some tony little restaurant, maybe the Federalist. Me not knowing she was taking the day off is my own fault, I've been giving her a little bit of space, keeping in touch but keeping the questions to a minimum.

Maybe, we'll end up at Wendy's, who knows.


9:45AM I called Lady G's house for the second time. No answer, so I leave a message that I'll probably call later. I managed to wait like four minutes and call her cell phone.

"Hi, it's Tim. You busy"
"I'm at the doctor's, but go ahead" is what I heard through the receiver followed by an oh shit in my head.
"I heard you have the day off"
"Who told you that?"
"Your daughter, I called the house earlier to wish you a happy birthday"
"Oh, is that today?"
"Yeah, it's one of our birthdays, I forget which. I called to see if you wanted to do lunch but.."
"Yeah, my doctor wanted to spend some time with me"
"Well, I guess I can't be selfish"
"I don't know how long I'll be, I'll call you when I get out"

She sounded pleasant but I think I may have dropped the ball, I should have been more aware about doctor's appointments.

Oh, well. I'll find out later on.


2:36PM no call from Lady G. Do I be a nag and call or play it cool and wait? I'm choosing to play it cool. If she has gotten bad news I rather give her a little time to adjust. It's difficult because I want to be there for her but she left the ball in her court. I'll call her later. I want to call her now.

She worries that I obsess over her. I obsess over everything. I try to tone it down, but it's against my nature. I have to wait until after 4:00, if I call before I'm afraid she might feel pressured.

Regarding, the Mirisa thing. I think I'll hold off anything until next week. I don't feel like playing games today.

I'm a little disappointed at myself, I can usually switch to player mode without skipping a beat, but Mirisa surprised me.

That's way she gets rewarded, she bested me, albeit I wasn't bringing my A game but that's my fault, Touche (please add an accent over the e) so it gets pronounced like too-shay.

Did you know that touche (please add the accent again) is the French word for touch which is used in the sport of fencing to denote a point scored. You probably just said "Duh" and you would be correct. Which is what I said to myself when this was self realized in fencing class. French is the language of Olympic Fencing.


3:07PM I was talking with another engineer and I hear a slight commotion and someone say "that's his girlfriend", she steps into my cube and tells the other engineer, "you're time with him is over". Lady G has dropped by the office, causing a stir. She's the Bell-of-the-Ball and I'm the guy on her arm. Makes my happy. Then there is like this party atmosphere for the next 34 minutes.

Aces, my friends, truly, truly aces.

Thursday, February 26, 2004


or is it one man's shed is another man's cabin?

So yesterday, in the commissioner's office, the attendees are the commissioner, a deputy commissioner, a director and me. My title is probably four times removed from the least of any of their's.

So, I'm told I'm getting in at the ground level, blah, blah, blah...and it will be fun.

"Is that guaranteed?" I asked
"What?" asks the comissioner
"Is the fun guaranteed? Do I get my money back if it is not fun? Is it..guaranteed?"
"How can it not be fun working with so and so and what's his name?"
"I guess you're right" was offered as an attempt to end what I started but I continued
"I often have to say hey, so and so can you keep the party noise down over there."
"See, you will have fun" she expounded

yeah, fun

and 'expounded' is use not quite properly, so sue me


So, the third grade teacher sends me an email thanking me for the map which now hangs in the classroom.

An email sent from a personal email address not from the city system. I wish that had some hidden meaning.

I've been called a tease which may be true because my heart belongs to another but I do go fishing sometimes just to see what I can catch, which after thinking about it, is at best rude.

oh are you interested, I'm with someone, see ya. ...definitely rude.

But, I digress.

Her name is Roxanne, none of my teachers were named Roxanne. Her surname seems of Spanish descent.

So, I reply and typed "I got a kick..." and so now I'm worried that 'got' is not proper standard English but "I received a kick..." just sounds pompous. I should have rewrote it to say something different but instead I explain my use of 'got' in a postscript.


Dudes, stop bothering me while I'm trying to send myself emails so I don't forget stuff, is what crossed my mind in work several times today at work.


at 1:45pm I get on the elevator and someone askes if I know the time, I don't so I look at my watch, the big hand is on the line for the nine, and what comes out of my mouth is 20 'til, which I know is wrong but I tell myself just say the hour and go back and say quarter of. Okay, I settle on that plan, so I check to see where the hour hand is, it's approaching the two line, so I say four. So the time I said was twenty 'til four, which I know is completely wrong and just gave a little laugh and tell the guy it is actually quarter 'til two.


I got my girlscout cookies today two of the Caramel deLites and two of the Pinatas. There is a tilde over the 'n' in Pinatas, I would look up the code for that if I were not so without care.

I chose the number of boxes I wanted to buy by looking at how many other people were buying and then bought that many plus one.

"How many did you buy?....Yeah, I bought four"

"I'm sorry what did you say?"

"Oh, nothing you say, because I thought I heard you say 'asshole', under your breath, and how can I be an asshole when I bought four boxes and you only bought two? Don't you like children?"

Actually, the folks who call me asshole usually say it loud and say it proud.


I had to stay late to cover the permit desk and in the elevator I get on to leave, I'm joined by Mirisa and a friend of hers. Both are ladies, both are hott. (two t's are on purpose, they're that hot)

I give Mirisa the familiar nod and she sees I have the girlscout cookies and says,

"You haven't brought any nuts by lately"

my response was something like "ah, ahh, ah" which she repeated back to me much like Lady G does when she catches me stammering.

Mirisa caught me off guard, I was planning the rest of my day and wasn't expecting to be engaged in a converstion. I managed to say,

"It's just that I was having trouble thinking what has *your office* done for me lately"

to which I got the reply,

"Well, you haven't been by, lately"

The truth, I was not ready for some hot chick to talk about me and my nuts and I was having trouble gauging the level of my reply.

So, Mirisa will be getting nuts. Tomorrow.


Tomorrow, is Lady G's birthday. I haven't any material thing to give her yet, I won't rush about and pickup something just for something's sake. Her mother got her a portable DVD player so I've been thinking about maybe a DVD, maybe Mary J. Blige in concert or something.

Never? Never Ever?...

I know never is a lie. Someone one will need a measuring wheel and I'll offer up mine. The person will not need to be cute or even liked. I think the handle has a design flaw, I would check my theory but fixing the extendible handle is something I prefer not to do. If I am correct, so I place that theory on the stack of mental items, I don't know what to do with.

It took me half a minute to remember how to spell 'flaw'. Eh, it's early yet.

Last night, ran a new phone line from the...I did run it, I hooked it up. I was starting to embellish the story.


The land my family owns in VT, there is a small trailer, a camper and a self built structure, built by the family. My dad would refer to the structure as a cabin, so I got in the habit of referring to it as the same.

So, I telling a fireman, who does the smoke detector inspections required for home sales, a story and mention a cabin which has come up in other recounts of my adventures, and he says:

"Wait a minute."
so I wait
"Tell me about this cabin"
"It's 20x12, metal roof, one story, like a big open room, five windows, a door...that's about it"
"No plumbing? No electric?"
"No" says I
he starts laughing "That's not a cabin...that's not even a shack...that's a shed. A big shed but still a shed"

True enough

one man's cabin is the rest of the world's shed.

Wednesday, February 25, 2004


I'm asked to check something out in the field, the only car available is the C-4, the 'C' stands for central base aka city hall, the four stands for the individual car number, the highest number today is 22, the C-22. Some numbers have been skipped for what reasons I do not know but I think the numbers illustrate that the car is old.

To measure distances we have measuring wheels, when I was in a car more, I made certain every car had a measuring wheel, time has past and now not every car has a wheel. The C-4 is such a car, so I grab my wheel.

My wheel, the wheel that gets borrowed everytime someone needs a wheel. The wheel is grabbed and destination achieved, bound forth from the car, extend the extendable handle on the wheel and commence with the cursing. I can't curse out loud because the mayor thinks city workers need to have a certain professional manor. So the cursing is all my own.

The reason for the cursing, someone has abused my wheel and the 'buttons' that hold the extended handle in place have retreated too far into there holes and the only thing they end up holding is a contempt for being abused.

I can't trace who abused my wheel because others have volunteered its use.

So, I start with the fixing, I've done this before just not on my wheel. Someone who likes to volunteer my wheel, inquires as to what is going on, so I inform him as to such and add that no one is to ever use my wheel ever again, never ever.

So, anyway, the wheel is fixed.


I get called to the commissioners office.

I get put on a new project to straighten out all the signs in all of the city of Boston.

Was I complaining about not being challenged?

The project involves documenting with words, photos, and technical drawings, all the signs in the city and from there some signs will probably prove to be redundant and be eliminated.

The whole system has been screwed for years and years now I get to try and fix it. But, that's my gig do the hard stuff so if failure comes I'll have an excuse, but if I pull it off I'm a hero.

Fish Story

fish story n. Informal. An exaggerated,
boastful story that is probably not true.

I don't think I ask for too much...

What time is it? Yeah, 12:47AM.

So, I stop goofing around and start to get things done. Towards the finish, I need a copy so, I go downstairs to the copier which I had turned on earlier to save time. This time I turn the lights on, or rather try to turn the lights on. Somebody, it seems, taped a note over the light switch. So, off comes the note, up goes my aggravation level. The lights, are still off, but the note I know is for me. The lights go on to reveal a note requesting advertising, advertising that I had just spent an hour and a half formatting, converting and emailing. True, the note was over the light switch but it was tape under the keypad to the alarm, which isn't a bad place for a note, not a bad place if the lights go on and there isn't a stack of stuff, piled high up to the switch.

The advertising is not changing.

The things that aggravate me, regarding the note:

One, this note should have been put in one of three different places, place one my mail box, place two my folder file for completed real estate file which is also a receptacle for notes at times, place three my desk (or chair).
Two, the agent is solely responsible to get any requests to me, this agent asked the front desk help to relay a message.
Three, there is a form for changes so when there is a screw up, it's documented as either my fault or their fault.
Four, now I have to have an inter-office memo sent around reminding everybody of the way things should be.
Five, the agent in question, never takes the blame, she will blame the office help (I would love it if she blames me).
Six, that stack of stuff by the light switch that I never thought should be there, one has to actually move stuff at times to get to the light switch.

I guess six is enough.

I was around when this office was remodeled, did some of the work, I was around when the alarm system was installed, I programmed the codes in the system. Besides the owner and one other agent, I've been around the longest. The point, I don't need the lights on when I enter this second home of mine.

Someone got lazy. Someone not me. Lazy is my job. Damnit.

I left a note to the office manager to send out a memo and also that the blame is solely on the agent. I might call tomorrow to talk to the agent and also to make certain that the office help doesn't get the blame.

Tuesday, February 24, 2004

something not dissimiliar..

I'll say something like lameassedness, my youngest sister will say that is not a word, I'll say "what about, why don't you go to hades?", she'll retort "that's more of a sentence".

further, so...

I don't start to get-to-getting. I post the picture of the Bongo Box.

I'm still amazed at that marketing snafu.

Anyway, I forgot about the other pictures on the camera which include:

The first photo is an actual sign that's in the federal inventory which I editorialized.
Second, a phoney street name sign, made of paper mounted on foam board also known as sturdy board.
Lastly, that's my kitchen window, newly installed but lacking trim but sporting a 2x6 as a sill, installed for just this purpose.


I get to the real estate office at 6:47PM and I grab all the things I need to take care of, retreat to my office, take a picture of the "Bongo Box", eat a small chicken cutlet sub with a Poland Spring Mandrin Orange Sparkling Spring Water and start goofing around online, like adding crap to the right hand side.

What time is it now? >

things I know...for today anyway..

I will often leave the word 'not' out of a sentence, a sentence I want 'not' to be there.

I also leave the word 'am' out of a lot of sentences word jumbles. So, I sound like Tarzan.

I will frequently type things like 'that that' instead to 'to that'. That's more letters, I don't understand that.

I will type 'know' for 'now'. That's an additional letter too.

I must think phoneticly because what the fingers type only sounds like what I want to say, and I really cannot put the blame on the fingers, at least not when they are still in the room.

So read most of this stuff out loud and twice adding a 'not' here and there

I type faster with the left hand than with the right. Probably, because my right hand has gone stupid using a mouse.

That is the Fabulous Thinderbirds Greatest Hits CD playing in the background.


So, yesterday I am* walking about and get called over somewhere.

*(left out the 'am' first time around)

"yeah?", I said.
"you are famous with third graders"
"that map you did for Amy Needsamap (that's a made up name for a nine year old) was a big hit, so now you are famous with the students. The teacher wants your business card so she can ask you to come by and talk about maps to the students"
"Students? How old?" somebody walking by interjects with a certain tone.
"Dude, they're nine years old. You pervert" I reply
returning to my original converation, giving a 'can you believe that guy gesture'
"What about the teacher is she hot?" I asked
"Actually, she is and she's twenty eight years old and available"
"I'll get my card"


Today's phone call

"transssportation", I drag the 's' sometimes
"It's Amy Needsamap" (same made up name for same nine year old)
"Oh! Hi"
"Can my teacher send you an email asking if you can come and talk about maps?"
"Uumm, what's in it for me?" I asked setting her up for a hard time
"What do you mean?"
"What do I get out of it? ...Do I get money?"
"I imagine that Mayor Menino will take care of that"

which just cracked me up

I imagine he will

I'll talk to the Mayor about it, later.
I've known Lady G since sophomore year in high school, which is a long time past. After high school I couldn't find a reason for me to be in her life so I didn't keep in touch. There were a couple time she reached out but beyond replying courteously there was no effort on my part to interject myself back into her life. The thinking was I would just be in the way, just along for the ride. Keeping the seat warm for her Prince Charming was not a job I wished to handle.

The reaching out stopped. She's better off without me was what I thought.

I don't know how many years went by but one day out of the corner of my eye, I see Lady G in the hallway of city hall, she's wearing a full length beaver coat.

The debate that raced through my head was to just keep walking or to greet her. I was actually past her when the choice of greeting her won out. I needed to know if she hated me or not. She didn't but I did go on this rollercoaster ride of emotions.

After some time she asked "Where did you go?" I told her I felt in the way, to which she replied "shouldn't that have been my decision?"

My hypocrisy
it truly knows not a bound
My hypocrisy

Monday, February 23, 2004

I am an ass.

We don't get co-ops any more, I don't know why maybe they were subjected to too much psychological mischief.

There was this one co-op rather out going and on her first day (according to her, I thought it was the second) she starts asking questions about the previous co-op, questions which past his name and hometown I don't know, questions like what year is he in, what's his major, does he want to come back.

So, I realize that this kid was here for three months and I didn't know anything about him, just let him sit there, alone.

It actually was not that dire but it makes a better story.

So, after the third question I didn't have an answer for I said "Listen, I don't get close to the co-ops because they just leave" which I thought was hilarious at the time, still do today, it was some of my best deadpan stuff of all time. Her jaw just dropped, literally.

Well, the questions stopped and she told me later that she went home and told her roommates about the nut job she was stuck working with. I told her the truth later, the truth being that I was a little ashamed that I didn't invest time in the previous co-op, in what can be an uneasy situation.

She came back as many co-op terms as she could, graduated, got her masters and works in the area. It's harder to get her jaw to drop but it still cracks me up everytime.

Another time, somehow sex came up, which is highly inappropriate for office conversation and she states "I don't believe in pre-martial sex" to which I asked, "What does that mean? You don't think it exists?" and I believe she had mentioned that she had spent the night at her boyfreind's house so now she tries to defend her statement and she finally admits that in the past to stop uneasy conversations about sex she would say that she doesn't believe in it and the conversation would usually end.

I asked why did she just say she didn't want to continue the conversation, to which she replied "because, you're an ass"...

True enough.


the highs don't last as long...

the highs of doing good deeds.

Last Friday, someone brought their daughter to work because they were short a babysitter. The daughter was working on a project, over vacation, and she needed a map.

Maps, maps you say? You have come to the right place.

I produce a very fine map with her assitance, a map overlayed on top of an aerial photograph.


So, I feel good that I could help but as soon as she leaves, the feeling good is gone, it just went away.

The highs don't last as long.

looney, loony, luny...

The watercooler needs a new jug but I walk right by, walk by once and then I replace it, which brings undue praise from the lonely (at times looney) receptionist.

"Yeah, I'm a real peach", I'll say that until everyone hears it, I love referring to people as peaches.

I would probably be happier if I just did things the first time I see them, instead of all the debating I do, the outcome is usually the same.

Loonily - adverb. I'll have to use that sometime.

"How you doing?" I'll be asked
"Loonily" I'll respond, next time I'll just get a 'Hello'

luny and loony are also ways to spell looney, I like it with the 'e'.


Today, I saw a bird at the bird feeder. I have had the bird feeder for at least three months and today I got a hit, an everyday sparrow, but good for him or her.

Sunday, February 22, 2004

tomorrow is Monday...

So, today's only priority was to pick my mother up at the train station at 5:20PM.

I live about 9 minutes from the train station due to conveniently located highway exits. One of these exits jacks up my auto insurance rates because every highway accident in the area that gets reported is credited to my little peninsula neighborhood but what can you do but take the good with the bad.

Other things done to get to 5:00PM (I like to be early). Watch PBR, professional bull riding, on CBS, and stockcar racing on FOX, which are two odd programming choices for a life long city boy, also use leftover roast to create a huge sandwich from a round loaf of Italian bread which gets pressed and tossed in the oven to melt the cheese, which gets shared with others. The leftover roast was from Saturday, if I hadn't cooked it on Saturday I was going to through it away. I did not feel right about disposing of it so it was cooked and served with real mashed potatoes, the potatoes were soon to be on their was out as well as with the onions which ended up being grilled and carrots. The carrots are the only thing that I would have let see Monday. All the ingredients had more shelf life but I don't like things sitting around.

I think since Thursday, I've been eating more cheese, that's my way of shaking my fist in the face of death, known personally in my family as heart disease. I was thinking about the next time the doctor asks my if my family has a history of heart disease, I'll say no, we just drop dead from heart attacks, oh, unless you count death certificates as history.

Anyway, I really don't do anything constructive the whole day, the sandwich was nice but not worth the effort. I made it to 5PM and headed to the train station hoping for one of the choice parking spaces which is designated for drop off and pick up, that I actually requested to be put in. I pulled onto the street of my destination and things look busy, my preferred spot will probably not be available, but that's okay, I know of some other secret spaces. I pull up further and there are spaces available, someone has posted illegal no parking signs in the vicinity of the drop off and pick up area. Normally, I would cut the signs down but the illegal doer has most likely saved my spot so I let the signs stay, and my guess is that he probably has requested permission for the spaces, but he just posted it incorrectly, so he gets a walk.

So, I get the choice space, go inside the station to find out that the train is delayed, delayed two hours according to board. Great, the drop off and pick up has a fifteen minute limit. Two hours is 700% more than I have, the kicker, I know enforcement is most likely not working this area but I move the car anyway. A metered spot a block and a half away fits the bill, meters are free on Sundays. I derive a little bit of happiness that my work in traffic has benefited me today. I also find out that the train is really only a little more than an hour late, it originally was two but the train has been gaining time. I grabbed a coffee and wait. The train station is also a bus station so there where sights-a-plenty.

An hour and twenty minutes after the scheduled arrival time, my mom's train shows up, I see people disembarking so I head to the platform. Everyone seems to get off but I don't see my mother. The train does make two stops in the city maybe she got off at the wrong station, maybe she was quick and exited through a side door. I leave the platform to look around, no mother. Splendid.

I head back to the platform and there she is, she says that the conductor announced the station incorrectly so that half of the people were still on the train. That's government workers for you.

Anyway, I get mom home safe and sound and head to the real estate office to take care of business. At the real estate office I find one item which can (and will) wait for Tuesday night.

Which I find to be very sweet.

Saturday, February 21, 2004


So, I took the photo and went back to the office to get things over with.

On the way out I ran into one of the help which wasn't so bad but I did have to give her the run down on how the family is doing. Which reminds me, yesterday I was told my 45 year old cousin, Andrew, died of a massive heart attack out in California. The wake is today in CT.

grandfather died of heart attack at mid 50's
uncle died of heart attack at mid 50's
father died of heart attack at 59
cousin died of heart attack at 45

averages to about 53 years old


Maybe I should stop snacking on salted butter...

Anyway, I get back to the office and it so happens that the agent who needs the market analysis follows me in five minutes later. She had left me a note that she would get the photo on Saturday, I already had the photo, so I was going to let her know.

"Hi, I have that photo, I already took it pause... for the market analysis"
"I don't have it"
"I know, I have it, so you don't have to worry about it"
"You already had one?"
"No, I just took it"
"Oh, I called the lady yesterday to ask if I could take a photo of her house and she hasn't gotten back to me"

So I just go back to my upstairs office to finish the market analysis, which by the way I think she has over priced by about 50k.

I do some other stuff and now it's almost eleven.


I usually shut the alarm off for Saturday mornings, not that I sleep any later but so I won't have to shut the alarm off. Today I was laying awake in bed, laying awake for awhile, I knew it was still early for a Saturday, I looked at the clock which indicated 6:36AM, too early to get up. So, I last another twenty minutes then get up to head to the real estate office.

I'm usually not in the r.e. office on these particular mornings but I was motivated to do something. Something I said I would do on Saturday. Friday at lunch time, I was in the area of the r.e. office so I dropped by to take care of a check I promised to write and to get signed by Saturday morning. Writing the check is never a problem, its the signing that's a problem, this check shouldn't be forged either because there was a good chance that it would be presented at the bank in person for cashing, as opposed to being deposited. So, I needed to find the owner, who luckily was at her house signing the 23 checks I had written the previous night. Anyway, I walk over to her house to get her to sign the new checks.

said I, presenting the checks,"Do you want to do *insert agent's name here* a favor and sign these checks? He going away Monday and he didn't give me the file last night so I could write the checks then."
"Is this the only reason you are here?"
"Aren't you a nice guy?"
"Yeah, a real peach"
"You still like your job?"
"You did once, didn't you?"
"Yup, but that was before all the bull...loney (almost saying bullshit but changed it to boloney), but I might be going to Public Works"

I find out the Commissioner on Public Works looks favorably on a mutual friend in city government, which will come in handy if the job goes the political route.

The owner also tells me she might be able to get back into the office, she has been out for five years, keeping in touch from her house. The r.e. office has been on a decline since she hasn't been in the office.

The owner loves the deal where as most of the agents love the money, when you love the money the quality of the job is jeopardized. If she does get back to the office it will be good for all. It's important that I see she still cares for this real estate business, it's hard to self motivate if I don't see the point of it all, and it has to be more than money motivated.

So, anyway, while I was about the r.e. office I was asked if I was working (for the r.e.), which I was but I wasn't so I said "No" which brought about the request for a market analysis packet. The finished market analysis, I have to assemble due to printing on odd sized textured paper as well as other design elements I have incorporated into the packet to jazz it up. It's a good, customized presentation but it's high maintenace and the assembly is more than I expect from the run of the mill real estate agent. Plus the owner knows I will catch most of the errors before it gets to her for her signature. Which is why I was out of the house on a Saturday morning at seven. Unfortunately, the agent didn't get a picture which I need to complete the package. I'll probably snap a shot as I leave the neighborhood and come back later to finish it all. I think we are due some weather which will decrease the odds of the agent taking the photo.

I want to leave before anybody gets here. I really don't need to hear anymore problems which they like to share with me when they can truly take care of them themselves.


So I try to make my escape, I go to get the print jobs I sent to the color laser and discover a jam, a jam caused by a black and white print job, a print job sent by someone who jammed the printing and just left. So lets tally the things I could get pissed off at: printing black and white to the color printer when they should be using the black and white laser printer, jamming the printer and leaving it, someone leaving the printer jammed when I trying to make an escape, and know that it's past nine o'clock that someone is not opening the office on time.

But, I will ignore them all right now. Print job made it through. I'm outta here to take a photo.

Friday, February 20, 2004

Sink or swim

Sink or swim, sink or swim, sink, swim, sink, swim








why do I always resign to sink?

Not as long, not as long

The highs last not as long.


1. The sediment in a liquid; lees. Often used in the plural.
2. The basest or least desirable portion. Often used in the plural: the dregs of humanity.
3. A small amount; a residue.
Lady G repeatedly asks, "what do you do for you?".

Mostly, I find ways to avoid improving my own lot in life even though I have all the tools to do so.

If the issue just concerns me, I have a so what type of attitude, who cares? The present hole in my most popular pair of sneakers currently only concerns me and I don't give a care.

There are only improvements if I need greater skills to help someone else look good.

I only do the hard stuff so if I fail, I have an excuse.
Only help others so I can say I was too busy being a good citizen to fix my own problems.

If the stuff isn't hard I'll make it seem difficult, I'll wait until time is almost up to start. "Hey, listen, I did all that in two days, I think the results are pretty good", of course I leave out the part of dragging my feet for two weeks.

My day to day is the most difficult for me, I rather help you with yours.

I've read a quote that said "a hero is one who does what he can" which probably includes doing your own dishes as well as mowing the elderly neighbor's lawn.

the time is now


someday I hope to use my powers for good, someday.

CD has run out of songs. I need to go home.


I shoot the lights, and I curse the dark...

The first time I saw the movie High Noon from start to finish was probably five years ago. I remember having a physical feeling of anxiousness and worry. It's a powerful movie but what I like best about High Noon is the character of Helen Ramirez played by the late Katy Jurada, she is a strong woman who everyone seems to bust in on to get advice from and she tells things bluntly, at first without an edge but then with no doubt. So it's like "Is she talking about me?" and then she'll add a sentence and there will be no doubt that she is talking about you.

"If he was my man, I would stand beside him,... but he is not my man... He is your man."


So the big electric company job is gone from my desk, the project manager is someone I consider a friend, but I was having a hard time dealing with the bullshit. I wanted to give my friend a hard time. I had to keep telling myself that it wasn't my friends fault that we had to calculate all these numbers, produce all these plans, and modify the map several differnet times all for a document that was at best only going to be looked at in a cursory manor. I think he could sense my irritation, I should have just sucked it up, wanting to be an asshole didn't help anyone.

Tomorrow, actually later on today, I'll probably drop by where Liz works and talk about my addiction(s) while playing Keno.

I think I'll write Lady G a letter and mail it out, I haven't done that in awhile. Her birthday is at the end of the month, I was told not to get her anything but sometimes I don't listen, ...which she seems to like to tell me once and awhile.

"You don't listen"
"Maybe you don't communicate well"
"Excuse me?!"

She really doesn't like that joke.


Leaving the office today, my supervisor is sitting in the lobby talking to someone, someone I know. It's a former teacher or principal for all four of my sisters, my two older sisters had him as a teacher, the two younger sisters knew him as a principal. He went to high school with my supervisor which also is the high school from which I graduated. The high school is gone but the building remains and now houses a differnet high school in which one of my sisters is a teacher.

It's the whole small world thing.

Thursday, February 19, 2004

What the heck...

I am walking around Quincy Market Place which is all a bustle with families on vay cay, I am walking because I think Liz maybe right, maybe I do have an addiction. So I wander into the toy store Zoinks, look around downstairs and do likewise upstairs. Upstairs has these Milton Bradley board games, shrunk down to fit on keychains.

I get Operation and Candy Land and have the 16 year old check me out, she tells me some total I think is wrong but I could have misheard her or maybe they are on sale, I get my seemingly incorrect change and leave. Outside I check my receipt and it turns out, only one of the items was run up. With tax the items are $5.20 a piece, so I'm outside debating, do I go back in or just leave, the amount of the error is minimal. Then I remember two things one a Candid Camera like show and a scene from Family Man with Nicholas Cage when Don Cheadle's character is being a check out person and purposefully gives someone the wrong amount of change to check their character...Sheeeeit!

I went back in to let her know only one run up, I said "you missed one" to which she replied pleasantly "no, I got both"... So, now not only did I buy these silly things but I am expending time and energy to make sure I have spent the proper amount of money on such things.

After, I prove only one item ran up, I hand over an additional $5.20 in exact change. The help behind the counter, which now consists of aforementioned 16 year old girl and a male counterpart, offer a 'thanks', I let them know that I didn't think that the five and one fifth of a dollar was a big deal but that I truly am insane and need to compulsively do the right thing at times. Something about good Karma may be coming my way was mentioned, to which I replied it was the bad Karma that I was worried about. Then I go about my merry obsessive way.
No skunk last night, probably has returned to its semi-obscure existence.

Yesterday, I was in this discussion with a cohort about retirement. I can retire with full benefits in the year 2030. I will have worked for the city 35 years...

I don't think I'm going to make it.


"It takes more than broad shoulders to make a man...and I do not think you are going to make it" - Helen Ramirez in High Noon played by Katy Jurado

Wednesday, February 18, 2004


after swinging by the Chinese Food Restaurant (picked-up: chicken fingers, pork fried rice, crab rangoon), I return home to this odor of skunk, again, only last night was a little bit stronger. I had some food and for shits and giggles I check outside and hear this noise emanating from under the tenant's car. It's the skunk, sounding pissed off, I could see a tuff of tail fur every once and a while but what can you do with a crazy skunk, so I just went back inside and tried to forget I have insane wildlife that have chemical weapons at their disposal.

Tuesday, February 17, 2004

Phone rings...

letting the phone ring twice.
said speedily "Hi, I'm so and so from blah, blah, blah, how are you?"
pause to skip over insincere inquiry to how I'm doing
my pause was meet with his pause so I played the game "Fine, and how are you?"
pause... I'm thinking, it's your game dude, keep up.


Earlier, a frequent requester for favors comes by and starts with the pleasantries, I start to think can we cut to the chase instead of driving through the bullshit?

Which reminds me of the time I was approached for something while I was busy. Mike comes by and starts with questions on what I'm doing and how I am to which I reply, what's your final question?
"What's the question you really want to ask. You came to ask me a specific thing, what is it? I'm busy"
He askes his question with a hurtful face, and I give him what he wants.
Future bullshit questions are cut to a minimum.


The large scale plotter is outside my cube, I'm the most frequent user and the only one who looks after it. So the plotter starts a job, a foreign job and runs out of paper just as it ends. I replace the paper. The owner of the print job that is not mine comes by and I let him know the paper ran out and to check that it printed everything he needed. He says that it printed everything on that job but another job is coming and asks if I replaced the paper. Which solicited a laugh and a yeah.

The large roll of paper setting in the plotter wasn't enough of a visual clue for him I guess. Not for nothing dude, but open your eyes.

I expected more from him.


I read in the paper today that people who are prone to get angry are more likely to get a boost from nicotine than more laid back folks. Which makes me want to seriously try smoking. Maybe in the past I hadn't given them enough of a chance


I'm obsessive, that's a fact. I walked by the water cooler four times today and every time I wanted to turn the label on the bottle to the front... but today I didn't.

It's a big deal when I leave my errors alone.


So, I'm at the place where Liz works, I sit at the bar and grab Keno tickets and ask for a usual from Dara, who is working the bar. Working the floor is Liz, who comes over and whispers in my ear "you have an addiction", to which I ask "just one?"

Keno is a sucker bet, today I bet $10 bucks and won one. I played some games for free in my head and if I had bet money I would have lost it all, which is against even the poor odds in Keno.


I think I need a full time advisor to sweat the small stuff.


The current emergency project deals with the electric company wanting to run 345 kilovolt lines through the heart of two neighborhoods for the purpose of linking substations.

My responsiblity, maps and every single pavement marking from here to timbucktoo. Crosswalks, Stop Lines, Double Yellow Lines, Solid White Edge Lines, Broken White Line Lines, Solid White Lane Lines, Gore Markings, Arrows and Only's, the word SCHOOL,... probably 24 miles worth, due by Thursday. Stellar.


There's this white dust over my drawer unit which I would guess was dropped by one of the owner's daughters while trying to steal my colored pencils. I think it's the 'pixie' found inside a pixie stix.


even the losers get lucky sometimes

I saw that picture...

I thought it was artistic and had the feel of the sketches of DaVinci, written thoughts with pictured items sketched maybe to be finalized at a later time.

Monday, February 16, 2004

Day off...

First thing, coffee. Second thing, sitting drinking coffee. After that I don't recall the order of events.

During the day, I did deliver two children to one place and later picked one back up and returned that child to his original location. I also made a triangular device to hide a protuding pipe in the upper bathroom. The orginal plan was to just box the pipe in, but that would have created a lot of right angles and a sharp corner which in my opinion would be an eyesore. So, I did a triangle which took more time to figure out the structure and all the cuts where funky, not one 90 degree angle. Anyway, I was pleased and the finishing will be easier with the oblique angles.


The deceased squirrel formally on the sidewalk is fortunately gone.


"He plays the harmonica when he should talk, and talks when he should play"

It's not Sunday anymore...

I use ... too much. I also use the word too too much.

I wanted to get the real estate out of the way so I came into the real estate office after my dinner date. I have a $600 check I can't do anything with until the accounts get straightened out. The plan, originally, was to wait until Monday but now I want Monday off, even though right now it is Monday.

I did get a grand parking space, only 20 paces away not the usually 240. Yeah, I counted.

Later today, after 8:30AM, I hope to get something constructive done in the house, I haven't decided what it is yet.

Maybe, I'll get the dead squirrel off the sidewalk. There seems to be more squirrels getting hit by cars as of late. Maybe someone is fattening them up with peanuts and Froot Loops.

Sunday, February 15, 2004


Friday the thirteenth.

Keno is a sucker bet. I played Keno at lunch with two of my poker buddies, I wasn't playing the numbers I won with on Monday because what are the odds of hitting twice in the same week with the same numbers, so I was playing new numbers for 10 games ($10). The guys asked, about my numbers, I told them such and they said I was crazy not to play the same numbers. So I played the same winning numbers for five games ($5).

Games 1-10 of new numbers won $6.00

Game 1 of old numbers nothing
Game 2 nothing
Game 3 four out of four ($100)
Game 4 nothing
Game 5 nothing

I played the same winning ticket for another five and hit for $2.

So the lunch tab was on me, lunch tab $52 plus tip $65, tip to Liz for playing winning numbers $15. Money on Keno $20


New rule instituted by poker buddy number one, you have to hit for more than $100 to pick up the lunch tab.

Good rule.

The winning numbers both times were 13-47-54-74.

Also, on Friday, ladies who received flowers from me totaled three. I asked questions to make sure it was safe, they all know my affections are unique to just one.

Saturday, the dryer part came Friday but I waited until Saturday to put it in after I got a hair cut, dropped by the bakery for some baked goods, and made coffee. The part goes in, the dryer goes back together and a test run ensues. Motor runs fine, no's a gas dryer, there might be air in the line, so waiting begins, ...waiting stops ...not that much air. Shheeeeeit! Dryer comes back apart, jump safety mechanisims so dryer runs while apart, still no heat. Foolishly touch ignitor with bare finger, get electrical shock but its not hot, this is not good. So the problem is not just the ignitor unless I got a bad ignitor. The bad thing about ignitors is they are nonreturnable once juice runs through them. So this one's mine whether it was bad at the start or not.

I have witnessed bad ignitors before.

So now, there is a decision to make. The washer is a Whirlpool Duet worth about $950 purchased after the old washer passed on. I want the matching dryer but I really don't want to cough up $857 for it. But if I do I can stack the full size dryer on top of the full size washer, and that my friends would be supreme.

I opted for the new dryer, I drive to the Lowes in Weymouth and say "I would like that dryer there, in gas"

"We don't have gas in stock, only electric" I was told.
"What about Woburn, can you check to see if they have gas?" I asked
"We don't stock gas, but I'll check...No gas in Woburn" I was told further.
"How long to order the gas dryer?" I inquired
"Eight to ten days" was the answer
I was already a full week without a dryer, but I thought I had no choice.
"Would you order me the gas dryer?" I resigned.
So the process of paperwork starts to perpetuate.

I would really like a dryer today...

After thought I said, "you know what, give me the electric dyer."
The only thing that runs on gas in that part of the house is the clothes dryer, if I have an electric dryer I can cut that gas line in the basement and remove it, and stacking the electric dryer is a lot easier. A heavy duty electric cord is better to handle than a solid inflexible gas pipe.

The catch, new electric would have to be run from the basement to the second floor. And not some run of the mill standard new outlet 120v type cable. This cable would have to be 240v heavy bigass run a dryer cable.

How long would that cable be, I asked myself to which I replied I don't know.
I guessed that 120' would do it and had about 20' left over. I can live with that.

So the new electric dryer, drys clothes in 34 minutes, the old gas dryer took close to an hour.

Sunday, watch the Daytona 500 from start to finish. Martin Martin blows an engine 8 laps into the race, he's out of it before it really started. Martin's ride ...the Viagra car. Not good for advertising, but I like Martin, he was more worried that he might wreck someone else than he was about having his engine break.

I also got my clothes ready for my plans later in the day, at eight, at Hamersly's Bistro. I produced a sports jacket that I thought would fit the bill, buttoned it up, one loose top button, one missing bottom button, check pocket for button, button in first pocket checked, need black thread, had found needles looking for something else two days ago, black thread found, proudly sew on button, button up jacket this time bottom button first, bottom button works great, relish sewing skills as I hear the top button hit the floor, I think shit. I was going to tighten that button anyway but I would have preferred it had stayed where it was. Sew on top button, try on jacket, button buttons, tug on buttons, buttons stay put. Assess jacket with slacks, shirt and tie, assessment good but too much formality, loose the jacket, assess the outfit sans jacket, assessment better.

Lady G is my accompaniment for dinner, both get Pinot Gris, both get the roasted chicken, roasted chicken because that didn't have any unknown partners that would show up on the plate. Pork, veal & seafood were also choices for other diners. Ordered two different dessert wines and one upside down apple cake with ginger ice cream. Taste both dessert wines, both sweet, Lady G has the better tasting of the two to start, it was passed to me for tasting, I say this one's tastier, she agrees, tastier wine is returned to Lady G.

While dining Lady G says something to table next while he is waiting for his her to return from the private room at the end. Lady G says we were here at restaurant week.

Restaurant week is when most of the fine restaurants in Boston Proper offer special menu items at reduced prices to get more people to try fine dining.

Neighboring table responds, "I don't know what restaurant week is. I come here all the time", his her returns and they both leave.

I was asked did you see his ears? I glanced over to observe ears that looked like they belonged on a characture of Prince Charles.

We were present for restaurant week in the past, however we ordered from the regular menu so the full price was paid.

So, maybe I don't care to know what half the stuff on the menu is but at least my ears don't stick out of my pompous head passed a set of narrow shoulders. I made mentioned that we got a cold shoulder after restaurant week was mentioned, she said so what? we'll never see him again.

The message we don't have time for self-important jack-asses.

Anyway, she notices that the gay waiter eyed her neckline so after he leaves she asked my opinion of her cleavage. So, I still get to be a gentleman but I get to determine if there is too much of a good thing showing. So, I look and honestly say, I do not think that's too much (but there was a bit). Then I add, but he had a better view to which she informed me to fornicate with myself.

"That's a nice tie. Did you buy it?
"Yup, Bill Blass"
"What about the shirt?
"John Ashton"
a little eye roll "Did you pick it out?" said with attitude.
"Yup, but I think you bought the pants. The shoes are new. ...My choice"
"I like the shoes, they're not your usual"
"Yeah, but I like them. I do alright sometimes"
"It's good to step out and try new things"

that was said before we played it safe with the chicken.

Friday, February 13, 2004

Is it talking to yourself...

When you sent yourself an email? I do this at times to remind me of things I need to remember.


I ordered flowers for the owner of the real estate company. I'm not kissing ass, she's a friend and I'm not certain there is someone bold enough to send her flowers until her legal paperwork goes through, paperwork that will change her marital status.

I think all attractive women should get flowers on Valentine's Day, but the ugo's are on there own.

I would actually send more flowers to more women but I don't think my girlfriend would like it too much and also I might start some undesired attraction type stuff.

Listen, I was just being a nice guy, I heard you weren't getting flowers so for twenty bucks I figured I could make your day (and I would put that in the note), that's what I spend on lunch, it's like I took you to lunch, it's not a big deal. ...I'll tell you what, I'll let my girlfriend know that you think her boyfriend is a nice guy.

Chances are it would just be an awkward situation so I keep my twenty bucks.

Thursday, February 12, 2004

Questions, I was asked questions.

I'm what you might call a Jesus freak.

I've actually been called a Jesus freak. A Jesus freak who doesn't put out is what a female acquaintance has called me a couple of times. Which makes me wonder about stuff because I would have put out for her.

Anyway, I was asked to participate in what is know as a small group by one of the pastors at the church I go to, I couldn't find a valid argument that I couldn't shoot holes through so I agreed to go.

The purpose of the group is to share, fellowship, with others in small numbers to become more intimate, more knowledgeable of others so we all can become better people (grow) and better Jesus freaks. These gatherings happen on Thursday nights at 7:30 (one of my real estate nights, so its a late day for me)

Usually, the leader will do some sort of 'fun' let's get to know one another type of crap before the religious stuff kicks in. Tonight, we had to write a question we would ask to get to know someone. The questions where piled along with a equal sized pile of our names. A name was picked and all the questions where asked to the person who was known by that name. Next week a new name, same questions.

This week's name and mine happened to be the same. I think my name was chosen not at random.

The questions were as follows:

1. What countries have you been to?
2. What's your dream job?
3. Where is a place you would like to go?
4. What's your worst pet peeve?
5. What turns you on (gets your juices flowing)?
6. If you could live in any time in history, what time would you choose?
7. What's your favorite sandwich?
8. How many toes do you have?
9. What do you want said about you when you're gone?

1. Canada, I was going to say London, ...the country of Paris, and Mexico.
2. I would be a builder.
3. The Orient. Can you be more specific? I don't know, mainland China?
4. I hate it when people will crank the thermostat way up or down, thinking that it will get warmer or cooler faster by doing so, I hate it. Hate it. It will not give hotter heat or cooler cold, it will only give the same heat or cold for longer.
5. When the thermostat is set at 68 degrees.
6. 1920's
7. Turkey Club on dark rye.
8. Collectively, ten.
9. ...that he tried his best, at times.

I'm still working on that last one.

The answers are mostly true. If number nine could have only one thing, I would prefer to have someone say "thanks for always being there".

In the movie "Tombstone" Wyatt Earp says that to Doc Holliday on the dentist's deathbed, gets me everytime.

I have a need to be someone's sidekick, right hand man, the go to guy, the number two guy, second in command, ...some knight on royalties' quest, there's a need to be a hero.

I like the glory, and it doesn't have to belong to me, as long as I was apart of getting it bestowed, that's good enough.

But as of late, my feats of heroism are spoken of in past tense. Those were the days, ...that inspired awe, ...that was a wonderful thing, ...not many people would have done that ...all written down in yesterday's journal.

If you live in the past, you will soon become a memory.


That dryer part was almost delivered today but a signature was requested and a signature was not obtained, but I put a signature on the appropriate line and left the line in an appropriate place, so chances are I'll be able to mechanically dry clothes by Saturday.

The parcel deliverer usually leaves the items on the enclosed porch with or without a signature, but what can you do?

Me, I cursed a bit, thought of calling and going to pick my item up but I can wait another 24.

It is really not a big deal. which I keep repeating


I wrote a check for myself last Tuesday, I just opened the envelope and noticed a signature doing it's best to look authentic. Oh, well. If I had known that was going to be the case, my pen is a better pretender. Most likely the one with the proper penmanship was preoccupied but gave absenting approval.

Igniter, Ignitor...

The ignitor has been shipped and is scheduled for delivery today.

UPS tracking number 1Z4130340200171975

Whirlpool, as well spell igniter with an o before the 'r'. My spellchecker likes to spell it with an 'e'. I orginally spelled it with the o but I was typing stuff in my word processor and it liked the e so, I succumbed.

I need to do less succumbing.

I like the o.

Wednesday, February 11, 2004

I like when woman call me by my proper first name, it's seems like I'm a sophisticate.

Throw it away...

I guess I'm a horder, I horde stuff, probably stems from my poor white trash upbringing. At the time I didn't know I was poor white trash but if I were to do the checklist I'm certain my childhood would make it.

I horde everything, everything but money. I have a 5.25 inch floppy drive around somewhere.


I'm undefeated at limbo as an adult, undefeated at world class yachting too
This Sunday...

Hamersley's normally too foo foo for me but once in a while I get out. An added bonus is no formal dress code.

dot dot dot

It wasn't my girlfriend who called.

We'll find out if the new color on the ad works out on Saturday. I lightened the color and fussed with the semi-transparent layer. I also adjusted the tone of the photos, to lighten them as well.

Lady G tells me she was in New York yesterday for the filming of The View, she scored a lot of gifts. Only single women in the audience. Single... alright, going to New York not clueing me in, I see how it is.

I would really like to know who called, those who know to call me there would call the cell phone.

Wednesday, already...

I'm not quite done with Tuesday night, still have stuff to do.

That cheap CD player is called a Bongo Box because it looks like a set of Bongo Drums. I rather just admit that right now so it doesn't come out later.

you seemed troubled. I wish I could untrouble you.

I got a little bit pissed so I used the energy to clean my desk, just a lot of throwing stuff away, I forget what irritated me. I think I could remember but I don't wish to right now, what's the point.

I think I'm forgetting something, an appointment ...or something not dissimilar. Hopefully, I'll remember tomorrow later today, at like 6:00AM.

...nothing's free, 'cept a little bit of bad advice...

Wednesday's work comes due

half way through, but more to do

syllables? ...Haiku

It must be time to go.

Tuesday, February 10, 2004


So a get a call all in a panic like

"when you coming in?"
"I'm on my way, 20 mins, why?"
"I want to change the ad"
"Change it how?"
"I want to do a yellow background"
long pause, "Alright"

Tuesday night, the day before the ads are due is not the time to be making design changes.

In the office

"This is what I want" showing me a color yellow
"Did you clear this with the owner?"
"The last time we changed stuff she wasn't happy"
"Well, the ad needs to change, you don't like this either, what will you do?"
"I'll lighten the ad to give it more pop, but I'm not doing yellow"
"Alright, ...I think your girlfriend call"

My girlfriend? She calls my cell. She's not done with work yet. She works a split shift. Who is calling me at the real estate office? Who knows I'm here but my girlfriend? My sisters, my mom, they call the cell phone too. Oh, well. This is going to bother me.

I was delayed in getting to the office because I was picking up a piece of crap CD player. I really don't like using the computer.

Keno is a sucker bet...

it has some of the worst odds of getting a payoff. I've heard the house advantage is 33%, they say that is like if you walk in with $100 and just pay the cashier $33. As oppose to BlackJack where if you know what you are doing, the house advantage drops to 1% so you only lose a buck out of your c note.

I play Keno to pass the time, I'm glad when I come close to braking even, getting half my money back I'm happy sometimes.

Today, I played $20 and won $108, minus the original $20 and the $20 tip for Melissa who ran the numbers for me, that means I'm up $68 for the day.

The Best I Can Promise is to Listen...

I can't promise answers, which I readily admit I usually don't have, but I usually make an effort to listen.

A lot of folks come by my area and tell me their stories, and I was wondering why, because the standard replies are "I hear you", "Yeah, so and so has a similar problem", "I can't believe that was asked of you", "I can have him eliminated if need be" or something similar with assorted knowingly nods, sighs, laughs, shrugs, tssch's, eye rolls, head shakes.

Surprisingly, that's probably when I'm at my most sincere.

I need to get more broken dryer stories, because then I might have an answer.

So I don't need a new dryer...

just a part which I ordered online. I like being over dramatic. The two hours of overtime I worked, between Thursday and Monday, will earn me $52.82. The iginter is costing $54.65 so I'm down $1.83.

I do save the hassle and expense of getting a new dryer so I guess that puts me up the price of a new dryer. The other parts look to be in good condition and I cleaned out all the lint build-up and I get to someday casually mention that I fixed my dryer.

I was a little surprised but happy to see the igniter, I knew there was no pilot light, but much thought was never given to what caused the natural gas to ignite, there was never a need.

Igniters and I have a history, Heatmaker heating/hot water systems use an igniter, when working the Heatmaker is sweet, it uses the same heating core to heat the house and to heat the hot water (which is tankless) and does so on demand so the energy savings is noticeable. Anyway, the igniter wears out and need replacing which is just a matter of two screws after the front panel is removed.

Accessibility in the dryer is less convenient but hey, I guess the bottom line is I'm happy. Saved my own day.

Monday, February 09, 2004

Oh well...

The clothes dryer is in pieces. The igniter is waisted, gone, finished.

New igniter with 2 day shipping $55.

I should put the parts back together so I don't forget.

Ships Tuesday, should be here Thursday.

One more shovel full won't be noticed...

It's budget time so the money man comes by my desk and makes himself a seat.

Money Man: I hear you are filling in for the Director while he is away.
Me: Sure, what do you need?
Money Man: Did you do the specs for the scanner?
Me: Nope (thinking what scanner)
Money Man: So I can't give you any shit about it?
Me: Well, if it will make you happy, just pile it right on top.

2,641 cents...

Permits once again today, this time I was asked. 4-5pm 4:00-5:00pm four o'clock to five o'clock in the early evening.

$26.41 after taxes.

I need a new clothes drawer. $26 bucks doesn't help much.

No, Really, When is Limbo Time?...

My dad has been showing up in my dreams, just hanging around the house as if he was never gone. Last night, I'm cooking chicken wings, talking with guests and realize I haven't checked the wings for awhile so I go to the kitchen and there is my dad taking out the wings from the oven.

The wings were cooked but I like them slightly over cooked so all that connective tissue gets cooked off the bone. So, I thanked my dad and put them back in the 400 degree oven.

Exciting stuff, huh?

I forget what he was doing last time but I remember seeing him and saying "hey, where you been?" I don't remember the answer but the attitude was that he never wasn't around. Which is pretty good for a guy who has been cremated for the past eight years and whose ashes are in Vermont.

I think his latter appearance was to do with the hot water heater problem. The first hot water heater I ever replaced, he witnessed the results and said good job.

My dad, in addition to being a preacher of the Word of God, had various talents and the ability to install hot water heaters was one of them. So when I think of hot water heaters my dad comes to mind.

Sunday, February 08, 2004

Sunday, sunday...

Maybe it was a case of me hearing what I wanted to hear, the last time I heard the weather, but today was colder than I expected.

Yesterday, I actually did do something to improve the state of the homestead.

Today involved Krispy Kremes, left over calzone, soul searching, question asking, movie watching, coldish shower taking, and other assorted miscellany. Is this my James Taylor CD? It was in a stack of other CD's which reside in my collection. No one else fessed up to ownership so I put it in the player to see if there was a reason I would buy it. Eleven songs later, I still don't know why I have it.

Between tenants and roommates there are six adults in the house today I think the normally diverse use of the showers, changed to a schedule contained in an hour and a half. Needless to say the new found need to rise and shine on Sunday morning taxed the hot water heater greater than I liked.

I know the water heater is of an inferior size for the house, it just never coldly bit me in the ass before, so that gets put on the priority list. Something that was crossed off the list recently was to heat my favorite room that has a bath. There were days I serious thought of foregoing a shower because it was too cold, fortunately for others, $78 bucks and two hours fixed that problem.

Right now, I'm in the real estate office, have some deposits to make and some bills to pay. I might write myself a check and leave it to get signed.


The semi-regular poker game was rescheduled for March 6, some bother-in-law's wedding or something bumped the date from Feb. 21. Last game I did alright, the chips are .25, .50 and a dollar and I walked away with 74 additional Georges, which is better than the time previous when I left a Benjamin, I was getting favorable cards but the cards were sweeter for someone else.

Even when you win, the next morning finds you short after a case of longnecks, savory treats and the cab ride home.

Play for the game, not the reward. Reward is nice but you have to love the game. Or at least the players

I'm going to try a new system which I started half way through last time. We play dealer's choice, so I started dealing seven card no-peek, dealer advantage supreme. I think the dealer won every hand but two, and of the two escaped with little money gone. I also dealt a couple hands of Texas Hold'em which also has a nice dealer advantage.


I let my guest of honor for the 15th know that there are plans. The reply "I need to check with my boyfriend, ...never mind, he'll get over it". She has it like that, I guess.


I found that I'm laughing more and getting others to do the same. Tomorrow, a new day. Maybe I'll buy an Eartha Kitt compact disk. ...Maybe even later tonight. Maybe, tomorrow, a pair of Justin Boots. Maybe more laughing.

Definitely, more laughing.

Saturday, February 07, 2004

The rabbit lives on...

I ran across two rabbit sightings today. One was half a bag of rabbit food, the rabbit never like this type of food, I bought it to have a variety, the rabbit wasn't impressed.

The other rabbit sighting had to do with the computer. She chewed through the speaker cord. I knew the rabbit had done this awhile ago but just never fixed. But today someone was downloading music so I had to fix the cord, the black electrical tape doesn't look good but it works. Singers downloaded, Johnny Cash, Tom Jones, Eartha Kitt. Hearing Ms. Kitt sign 'Santa Baby' was surreal.

I have all my wisdom teeth...

two above and two beneath, yet I realize that there are times my mouth says things that are not wise.

I have reservations for the day after Valentine's Day at a nice little four star bistro, table for two, trying for a corner table for easier people watching.

There is less stress on the waitstaff the day after, or the day before, so you get better service and since the day after, this year, is still the weekend, when the story gets told, one just has to say I went out for Valentine's Day instead of on Valentine's Day.

The guys in work will probably screw up their Valentine's Days this year as in yesteryears. I'll try to mention that it's this weekend a few times next week to give them a chance.


I was at Home Depot earlier today, first time in a while, picked some stuff up to finish the lights in the formal dining room, but I think I'll work on the bath on the second floor.


The wirenut has survived another week. I think I might take it down.

Friday, February 06, 2004

Back from lunch had the chicken fingers with the honey mustard sauce and five 'ginger ales'. Now is not the time to fill out my overtime request.

Why am I having trouble typing?

I filled out the request anyway. I spent 20 dollars on Keno won eight. Left a 27% tip. Liz was the bartender server. She'll be back at 5:00PM. Liz is sweet.

Is it getting dark in here?...

Once, before I worked for the city, I was in the real estate office most of the time keeping the construction part running smoothly and a snag was hit.

I trusted a contractor to do his job and found out that on that day the trust was misplaced, so a problem arose and I had to fix it which caused much consternation on my part. The owner found out there was a problem and I gave her the run down, by then I had things mostly under control but she asked “did you yell at him?” my response was a question “will that make things better?” to which she said “no”.

The owner knows me, she knew by that time I had several different scenarios for vengeance, and there could be two outcomes, I would explode all over him or tear up his card in my Rolodex. I choose the latter, the explosion would have been grand but I wasn’t going to use him again so what would be the point.

There are a lot of times certain responses will come to mind but I usually will ask ‘will that make things better’ the answer is usually ‘no’. But there are those days when the high road is not taken, I allow myself a little release. In hindsight I sometimes marvel at the things I say, once the juices get flowing, but then there is always a bit of guilt. Is the world a better place? Has a lesson been learned? Is that the image I should be displaying? Was that the right thing? I answer to all those questions is consistently, no. But I do get a bit of a buzz off the power of the poisonous verbiage I sometimes spew forth. I have actually brought grown men to tears, which after the buzz wears off brings greater guilt.

There is no gain in trading a man’s pride for a demonstration of my inner evil.

When I talk the talk but hold off walking the walk it’s not because I can’t, not because I don’t want to. But because I can’t identify the gain.

Evil’s easy, the default, it’s the good that’s hard. So if you ever see me slowly smirk my sly little smile after someone thinks they just played me, beware because evil is afoot.


So I get mad when I don't do the right thing and I get mad when I do the right thing. I wish I were some sort of profound enigma. But, I'm just a jackass donkey.

Ahh...the permit desk

My stay at the permit desk had an encore performance. I normally work 8-4, the normal permit guy works 9-5, now 4 o'clock comes, I wasn't the last person covering the desk but that person normally leaves at 4 as well, and today would be no different. The supervisor who oversees the permit section is not around, my direct supervisor has left early due to a problem at his home.

So that leaves me, do I leave or do I stay. If I stay I can get an hour overtime to which I say big deal. If I go and someone needs a permit and doesn't get one there will be yelling tomorrow. The yelling will not be at me but at others, others who may be trusting that I will do the unselfish thing. I had things I wanted to do and on Thurdays, I'm always booked. But I stay a few and to see.

4:15 comes, no permit supervisor. So, I say to the receptionist, I'm leaving and I go to get my lined leather coat to depart but at my desk I stop, I don't get the black well worn outerwear. I go back to the permit desk, I'm a sucker. I am a victim of my own morality, and I get angry at myself.

I should just leave, why don't I leave. I don't even have permission to stay and work overtime, my request for payment could be refused. I need to leave. I should leave, I have every right.

4:30 comes, no one has needed a permit since 3:57, I need to leave, still no supervisor.

Leave, leave, leave.

4:37 I see the permit supervisor, he's in his office putting on his coat. ...Putting on his coat, he's leaving. I'm a sucker. I'm standing right at the front of the office talking with the receptionist. Talking about if you know how to fix a problem and are able but not willing then there is a problem with your character. She thinks the judgement is for her but my judgement is for me. All the while there is that timer in my head, the supervisor should have walked past by now, so I glance to his empty office, he's gone, out the back door. I think, coward. I focus back on the receptionist as she tells me I should not swear like I sometimes do.

Fine, I'll give up swearing now how about back to your problems. I usually only swear for emphasis anyway. I rather say you need to shut the fuck up than to say dear William, I disgree with your statements regarding fashion and I would question any judgement of yours when you have a habit of wearing that cotten sweater with the cartoonish golfer image.

I don't have the answers. I just like the discussion. I like debate, to argue. If you can't argue your point then you need a new one.

4:57 nobody has come in for a permit. I could have left, my efforts unneeded. Worry for naught. (naught...where'd that come from?)

Most likely I'll be offered a half day whenever I want...what am I up to? five half days now. Players, relax I've got me covered indeed a victim of my own warped sense of morality.

Thursday, February 05, 2004

A stick with nice shoes...

If you ask me out right if I care about other people's opinion I would say, that at the end of the day, let come what may. I don't say that I, it just seemed like it needed to rhyme. What I do say is that other's opinions don't matter. Which is how I think it should be, I'm the one who has to live with my decisions but I will use others opinions as a check on my own. I try to reason on why that opinion exists and if valid, I put it on a shelf for future reference.

...But I usually only pickup litter when no one is looking, only a chump would pick up someone else's litter. Right?

Lately, I've been trying to pick up the literal and figurative litter and not care who's looking.

My philosophy of life, do what's right, despite the strife.

No more rhyming, now I mean it. Anybody want a peanut? (yes, that is a 'Princess Bride' reference)

Do what's right. Seems easy.

I used to make a good effort.

I didn't make a conscience change but once I started writing stuff down, I realized I changed and not for the better. I declined, forgot the maintenance.

I think the world is in a natural state of decline. Declining bridges, declining buildings, declining television, declining people. Things need maintaining, fixing, improvements. No maintenance. Decline. Things left alone, decline. Just a fact of nature.

It seems I'm leading up to some grand revelation, some answer to some question. I have no answers.

I do have a hammer, can get some paint, pick up litter, offer a kind word, give up my bus seat, maybe ante up hope. Things can change. I just need to sally forth, not worry about what that guy next to me thinks or what part he is going to do.

I’m a tea drinking coffee drinker. My label would say coffee drinker but frequently I like tea. And today I wanted tea, strong & black but kinda sweet (two sugars in 16oz). I have a friend that has told me, my tea drinking preference is an allegory of my relationship preference. I believe my reply to her insight was “you’re fudd’n nuts, I’m just drinking tea”.

I had to cover the permit desk for a bit, today. The permit desk AKA the pit of no escape. The pit is an improvement from what I do for the most part, at least you see different people and don’t have to worry about keeping busy.

I sit out side the Director’s office, sometimes I hear things. Today, there is talk about promoting someone, the reference is always by title, this associate engineer, that sr. engineering aide, the title today is jr. traffic engineer.

Why do we need to promote someone? Why don’t we just give them the added responsibility? How do we justify the $5000 per year that the promotion would bring?

It’s interesting because one of the discussers knows the jr. traffic engineer in question has been approached by another Department. The quick answer to all the questions would be that if the promotion doesn’t come, there will be a Monday when this particular jr. traffic engineer doesn’t come either, at least not to this Department. But, that answer will not be offered, should not be offered, cannot be offered.

The powers that be have let this Division decline, no maintenance.

Soon the rubber will meet the roadway, the stated value of an engineer will need to be shown in real numbers, real letters, not just glad handing with pats on the back.

I wish to regale you with stories of grand adventures but alas I choose to be a stick in the mud. A stick with nice shoes.

Wednesday, February 04, 2004

Tuesday lives on...

I wasn't digging last night so much. I don't dig Tuesday nights much anyway. Too much interaction with the agents even if I don't see them.

So, after I stop off at friends house. I go to Bk's for a number 3 with a diet coke and get to the office at about 7:30PM. That's later than I like but what can you do. First thing I see is a note that says the new 15" flat screen no longer works, the story is, it just stopped working. My first reaction, wah'd fuk. So, I check all the cables to see if they are loose or have a kink, check that no one has screwed with the contrast and/or brightness, check the power, all that bullshit. I get next to nothing, there is a very faint image which is what I started with and to which I mention wah'd fuk? Its a cheap monitor my own damn fault but the flat screen fits nice on the desk so flat screen with a bigger price tag it will be.

Then I remember, I got fries with that but it's too late, fries need immediate attention, so another wah'd fuk. I also should have gotten my order sans onion, not that I don't like onions but then they have to make it fresh.

I got a call earlier in the day from this same office. This earlier story was the fax machine is on its way out and it needs a new drum which costs $160 but should we buy a new one. My reply, I don't give a shit but what the hell are you doing with the hardware, was what was in my head (and this was before I knew about the monitor), what came out was I don't care but those aren't cheap fax machines that we have been buying, that last one was like $600. To which the reply was, I'm talking to the owner right now, I'll let you know. The phone gets hung up and I ponder how to say in a nice why, if you fucknuts could get your acts together maybe I would not have to deal with so much bullshit and could focus more on rewriting the bullshit uncreative lame ass advertising copy that you donkeys give me. Presently, I don't even trying to rewriting the ad copy (which is on my list of things to change, the ad copy sucks)

So there are three print ads I have to get out, one gets emailed as a PDF and the others get printed and delivered. So, I go over the forms for the changes trying to get everything ready for print, pick a 'home of the week' from the choices, send the PDF on it's internet journey and print the other ads. Then for some unknown reason I check the forms again, and see this brand new listing, that is going to be open housed this weekend to which I exclaim sheeeeeeit. I'm not doing the PDF file over that can wait for next week, if it weren't an open house I would have said fukit but the agents get all teary eyed when the open houses don't get advertised, so I make this new found property the 'home of the week' it's not as good as the now runner up choice for 'home of the week' but what can I do. There is always next Tuesday.

I brought three new cd's with me and was playing them off of the cd drive in the computer which is something I might have vowed never to do in the past, if you need to listen to cd's get a cd player, stop wasting the computer resources, kinda sounds familiar. The sound system I used to have in this office was taken to my dining room during one of my screw this place episodes. Anyway, I think I replayed the cd's four times a piece and some songs more than that. I can remember hating the cd's towards the end.

I left there after 3am still with stuff to do but that stuff could wait.

I called the owner and told her we are spending too much on hardware. Which I later corrected because I have been cannibalizing systems for the last forever (since a 386 machine was sweet*), the correction: we are spending too much on certain hardware. She told the office manager that a new drum for the fax will suffice. I also mentioned that 'they' are still fussing with the thermostat which drives me nuts.

If you don't know the basic operations of a thermostat, leave it the hell alone. Setting the thermostat to 85 will not heat up the room any quicker than if you leave it at 72 but what it will do is heat up the room to 85 after you have left for home and you will have me calling you a dumbass for the rest of my life maybe I'll have my children call you a dumbass as well. ...True, I don't have children right now but I'll adopt them, if necessary, just to pass along your dumbass legacy.

* for those who failed geekistory a 386 was the common moniker for the 80386 processor and was the cat's meow after the (80)286 which was begotten by the 8086 which was the first popular chip for personal computers on the IBM/Intel evolutionary line (no arguements please, this is just for entertainment purposes). The 386 is at least the great, great, great, grandfather of the pentium 4 chip.

Tuesday, February 03, 2004

Superman never made any money...

saving the world from Soloman Grundy.

I got a call, come see me before you go to work (2nd job), I have something for you.

I shows up, get a gift of cash, well not quite cash, a money order, four bills worth. One month's truck payment.

What's this for?

In case, there is something you want.

You sure?

Yup, you give when you get, so I'm giving because I got. (tax return me thinks)

I wanted to argue, refuse the gift but I knew I it would be a lost cause. We have been here before, she says I can't give unless I'm willing to receive.

I dislike it when I lose unspoken arguements. I have to get her back.

I don't know why she keeps me around.

I met her in high school. I first noticed her on the second day of Geometry class, she was sitting one row over and one table up, she was telling some story that seemed like the most entertaining story in the history of time. Me, I'm thinking, wow.

She ends up being the captain of the cheerleaders and a star on the track team. Me, I was the white kid taking Calculus, the type who got his high school letter by agreeing to be scorekeeper for the swim team.

Somethings have changed, somethings have not but I still like watching her tell stories

We'll be standing around at someplace like the Bristol Lounge having free drinks and she'll be making herself the bell-of-the-ball, she'll introduce me as several different things throughout the night from fiance to the guy who here to get her drinks.

On the latter one I'll usually say "I get hors d'oeuvre too" and wait for my next line.

No admittance...

That screeching noise heard around midday in New England was Boston City Hall coming to a complete halt due to the Superbowl Celebration on City Hall Plaza.

The plaza was full of brawlers and breast barers in true Superbowl fashion. Now there is the normal barron wasteland of red clay bricks and the refuse of over a million people. close up refuse

Monday, February 02, 2004

Almost famous...

I got a call today from the sergeant who gets to investigate all the fatal vehicular accidents in the city of Boston. After the chit chat he tells me he has to recreate the scene of yesterday's accident in which an SUV ran through a crowd of celebraters, which killed one out right and injured others. The Sgt tells me one of the injured will soon be known one who also died. The crime scene is 1000 feet long so he needs a map of the area. Me, I get to give him that map.

Everbody's a fan tomorrow..pretenders..

Today the main concern in the Hall is finding Pat hats for the people who will be standing behind the World Champions on stage at City Hall Plaza tomorrow.

You would think that Patriots fans would have already had a hat.

Tomorrow Boston will be a zoo.

Word on the street is that the Pats owe their win to a superpowered Brady fan on the west coast. Whose to say, a win's a win comes to mind.

My time in the Hall of late has been drawing in sidewalks on my GIS. I read in the paper today that NY has spend 20 million dollars on the GIS system they use. In a certain city department in Boston, the GIS started out with a most likely bootlegged copy of MapInfo and spatial data begged and pleaded for, some may have been commandeered secretly too, and by some I mean most. That same department now has a righteous copy of MapInfo but still data acquisition is difficult. Most corrections to the data are drawn in by hand by tracing over aerial photos gotten online from MIT at

Boston is trying to get it's act together but it's slow process and has to be on the cheap. The word half-assed comes to mind.

My new tirade

Those out there trying to get their gangster funk on by using guns, need to learn how to shoot. First off, if you are such a badass you should walk up to the mother fucker you want dead and pull the trigger at point blank range, none of this drive-by, hail of bullets, hit everything but the dude you want dead bullshit. It might take a little bit of effort to wait until he's not hanging with a bunch of his armed homies but won't it be more satisfying to walk up to the guy look him in the eye and say fuck you while you blow a hole through his chest.

I'm tried of reading about how some five year old was shot, and paralyzed for life, while in her third floor bedroom because some lame ass doesn't know how to handle a gun.

I'm also tired of hearing that so and so was shot four times: once in the leg, one in the arm, one in the left index finger, and once in the buttocks. Sometimes the locations on the person change but in most no fatal shootings the buttocks is always one of the spots. If you cannot handle a gun properly put it away or keep it for show but stop pulling the trigger.

Sunday, February 01, 2004


I got a call yesterday asking when I would be in the old neighborhood, a favor was needed. Saturday was kinda booked and I'm usually in the that neighborhood on Sundays, so the answer I gave was Sunday.

The person asking the question then said before the game right?

...That's right the game.

Of course before the game. The favor is always favors but why split hairs. With one thing there is always another thing. Anyway, the favors: she can't get her voice mail on her cellie; the shutter on her new digital camera won't open; she needs to have her pictures from a cruise printed from her digital camera; and last her dial up connection doesn't work.

I told her yesterday that she can get her voice mail using a reqular phone just call yourself and blah, blah, blah. Problem solved.

Dial up connection, some little imp disconnected the phone line and the password was incorrect. Problem solved.

Shutter on camera won't open cause the battery needs charging. Problem solved.

Printed pictures by putting my battery in her camera and running over to real estate office to use the color laser printer (she gave me the same camera for Christmas, she got something from Tiffany's, the freshwater pearl bracelet with infinity clasp, classy).

She also mentioned that she must have her small sd card in because she can't take that many photos. I checked the card and it's says its a 256MB card but when I checked the space from the computer, it showed 17MB. My card shows 254MB. Opps, I hope she has the receipt. I'll offer her my card but she'll probably return her faulty one. She has the whole feminine wiles thing going so she should be successful. So, the problem ain't solved but at least I have an answer.

I did buy some clothes yesterday also when to BJ's for some supplies. I picked up four shirts from Filiene's total bill $58 bucks, not too bad.

Gotta run.