I have a Couple Rhetorical Questions.

The first being, Is it wrong that I find women’s curling mildly erotic? Strange I know, maybe it’s just pornography escalation coming full circle back to the mundane.

This has by far been the worst month leading up to my birthday ever. It hasn’t been all bad I admit, but the highlights have just been muted, like my promotion. I’ve only had it dangled in front of me for like 6 months, so getting it wasn’t full of elation, it was just a well yeah, I’ve deserved that for way longer than this.

Just people dying, relationships fracturing, frustration escalating, and fear rising.

The only thing I can think of to make things better is to make detailed plans to make things better, which in some cases I have.

As a birthday/promotion/make me feel better present to myself I think I’m going to buy some new hockey pants, Warrior brand of course. With gift money from my parents, remaining fun tax money left over after buying my new shin guards, and money from selling my old shin guards, they’ll only cost $29 of real money. I think I deserve that. I’m such a whore for Warrior gear. I think that’s about all the Warrior stuff I could buy other than shoulder pads, but they would be so overkill for a no check league it would be ridiculous. (Some dudes don’t even wear them, and I cut off the hard plastic pads on mine anyway.)

Looks like I’m going to make it. One more post tomorrow on my birthday and I’ll have done it. It wasn’t as hard as I thought, maybe I’ll be able to keep it up, maybe not once a day, but I’ve been able to see the anecdotes in daily life now again.

Second question: Am I less of a man for really, really liking show tunes?



Substitute Peoria for skid-row and downtown, too many syllables I know.

Picture Art

First you have to know...not fear...know that some day you're gonna' die.



Look how nice my calves look. Pet cemeteries are fun. I named the dog "Deady".



Contemplating this rotten assignment.



...and that has made all the difference...



He may look like he's asleep, but his heart is full of rage.

The Oak Tree

At the end of the week and the beginning of the weekend I was getting incredibly frustrated with Carter. He was being two, and I wanted him to be 12.

Now, I wanted to cry when I dropped him off at a babysitter. We've got him in a hawk for the summer. He's this crazy little dude who loves jumping off things and talking about the sun going to sleep and where trucks and tractors are hiding. This little piece of me.

I can only hope I can be all that he needs me to be.

I'm there. I matter less than him, than his future brother, than my wife.

I'm there.

Post #345: The Dregs of Pre-Holiday Break

Being at work is just killing me right now. I was supposed to be really busy right now setting up a test to have ready for when we get back from holiday break. Unfortunately, we haven’t gotten the fan pump we need for the test.

Now I’m stuck at my desk waiting for the hours to click by.

Everyone thought my late grandmother had seasonal affective disorder. Her mood visibly changed every winter. I thought I was just an asshole for hating this time of year, the hassle of doing holiday related things, the headache of traffic due to everyone being out shopping, etc. Turns out I too may also have SAD. I went and bought a seven-dollar big wattage full spectrum light bulb. I’ve been having it’s blasting light a few feet away from me for about 2-3 hours a day. Either through coincidence, placebo affect, or actual curative properties, I feel much better after only two days of doing it. I’m not exhausted after getting home from work, I can tolerate being in stores full of all the ugly, stupid people in this world, and I generally feel OK.

Found out yesterday that we’re having a second boy. I kind of wanted to have a girl, but now that I know we’re having a boy, I think it will be better to have two boys than a boy and a girl. Now Carter will have a partner in crime and be able to have that brother-brother bond, that I known nothing about, but can only assume is pretty cool to have. We’re also all set up for a boy so no additional things need to be done other than get seasonally appropriate clothes since this one is due in May. Now there will be two Lawryde men to carry on the Lawryde name.

A Lesson in Engineering and Motivation

Steve had a post a few days ago about trying to recapture the drive and passion to succeed. It made me think about my tattoo machine. The first iteration was just for the invention competition. V2.0 was a better design, but it still wasn’t good. It’s more difficult than you’d think to have a “good” design. It’s easy to spot good and bad design, but it’s a far more daunting task to actually design something that’s good. Good designs typically have hundreds of years and hundreds of thousands of man-hours worth of thought and labor put into them.

Every piece of sheet metal and plastic of your car has a specific reason for why it is the way it is. Machines that have been developed for as long as cars, and bulldozers, and tattoo machines are the way they are for good reason, and drastically changing them creates major design, reliability, and cosmetic issues.

Steve’s post must have planted a seed in my creative subconscious. (which isn’t very big since I’m a piss poor artist, musician, and most other creative exploits).

This morning I was in the shower, humming some Weezer when I was suddenly struck by the thought that everyone dies alone, and I began to panic. Adrenaline flooded my system and my hands and legs began to shake. I started to breath deeply to try and calm myself down. My mind was still wanting to flight, but there’s really no where to go when you’re naked and dripping wet in the middle of winter.

I began singing Thoughts of a Dying Atheist to myself while getting toweled off and went to get dressed.

Then it came to me. It doesn’t have to have a cover on it. It’s a tattoo machine, not a fucking BMW. Kind of the Indian Larry school of design. This will make it a more compact package and it will look cool. Machined springs also came to me, and I had a flash in my brain of what V3.0 should look like.

Now all that’s left to do is everything.

Lawryde's Good and Bad Weekend

I kind of had this Duality of Man weekend.

On Friday my hockey team (and I call it my team because I put it together and have taken a kind of leadership role) had it’s second game of the season. We lost to the ass hat firefighters two weeks ago, so I was kind of down and expecting to lose every game. We played team Yordy that is a collection of some of the Bradley College students who just play hockey for fun, and some other dudes who are pretty cool. It was kind of back and forth for the first few shifts.

We had a face-off in their end, I was playing center. I won it clean back to the point. The defensemen had a nice shot that got through traffic. There was a big rebound that came right to me on the left side, and I poked it in. We didn’t look back after that. We ended up winning 7-4.

Next game we play the team that Phil, Mike, Drew and I broke out of to form this new team. It should be fun taking those teenage kids to school.

On Saturday I was invited over to a dude I work with’s house to play some Guitar Hero with a bunch of people. I know, I was the same way. I thought Guitar Hero was stupid, and the people who play it are poser nerds who have never seen a heavy metal band live, and who desperately want to be cool tattooed rock stars, but I found out that it’s actually a fun game. It’s got some good rock songs and it tests your hand eye coordination. Apparently mine is pretty good from the years and years of playing video games because I went from never playing the game to the hard difficulty level by the end of the night. I think I’m going to ask for Guitar Hero III for Christmas. Go ahead, start calling me names, but remember I DO have a bunch of tattoos, and a wallet that gives me the title of “Bad Mother Fucker”.

On Sunday I was in a bad-fucking mood. I’m not really sure why. It was a crappy rainy Fall day, I had to go grocery shopping in a store full of old ladies with giant carts of food for Thanksgiving, my fucking toilet that I thought I fixed kept getting stuck, I don’t know. It’s like none of the good things that happened the previous days had happened. I did manage to get the toilet back to working order.

I hope.

Plowed in to the Sound

I’ve got all these random things swimming around in my brain.

I’ve got my hockey team pretty much solidified. It’s not going to be as good as I had hoped, but it’s still going to be a solid group of guys. No superstars. After playing well in rat, I feel strong. I want to get stronger and faster and heavier (I’m up to 178 now, 200 is my fighting weight) so I can shut down that little prick Nick. (The kid who won most of the games for us on Orange).

If you’re going to buy a minivan (which we will some time in the future), there are two critical requirements:

1. It has to have a dvd system in it.
2. The back has to be spacious enough so you can fuck comfortably in it.

I can envision my wife and I at a car dealership asking the sales dude to fold all the seats down so we can determine if the back of the minivan is spacious enough for us to fuck.

I need to save money to buy a new hockey bag, and to complete my left arm sleeve. I kind of wanted to incorporate “So it goes”, but I think that would be more appropriate for the central theme or wording for a kick ass chest piece. Maybe, “There is no why”.

I feel satisfied with my job right now. It’s a strange feeling.

I have a mouse, maybe mice, living in my garage. My wife won’t let me kill them. It would need to be catch and release. Maybe I should just leave my cats in the garage one night and let them have at it, let nature run it’s course.

The Power of the Mind

You may recall that a while back my dad and I replaced all (most) of the old galvanized water pipes in my house with brand new PEX tubing. The PEX and all of it’s connection points have been rock solid.

The problem is that somewhere you still have to tie back in to the old work in the house. This can either be copper or more shitty old galvanized pipe. I have one hot and one cold water line that go up to my second floor. We decided not to run PEX up through the walls and just connect to the galvanized.

Yesterday the connection on the hot side started to leak between the galvanized pipe and the brass PEX fitting. I immediately started to get nervous. I hated the idea of having to break further into the galvanized and potential create more leaks or fuck something up in the walls higher up. I had no choice though. The one fantastic thing about PEX is that it has a manifold system rather than a branch and tee system like most copper installations. This means that you have single lines of PEX running from hot and cold manifolds that each have shutoff valves on them. So I just shut off this small branch and still had water to the rest of the house.

I ran to Lowes and grabbed a few supplies I thought I’d need. It was about 8:30pm.

My first plan was to take apart the union that was left and replace the old pipe nipple on the union with a new one. The whole assembly was up near the ceiling between to joists so it was a bitch to get wrenches on. I was able to get the union off and replaced the nipple and PEX fitting. I redid the PEX to the manifold and crimped and tightened everything. Moment of truth, turned on the water. Nothing leaked at first, but then the union started to drip as well as both of the pipe connections.

I started to get worried again. So much so that I started feeling nauseated. I didn’t want to have to call a plumber and pay big coin to fix something I should be able to. (I am my father’s son after all). My stomach started to burn. I turned off the branch and all of a sudden I heard a loud but muffled explosion. I yelled, “What the hell was that”. I thought a PEX pipe had burst somewhere. I didn’t hear water rushing anywhere.

My dumbass cats had knocked over a florescent bulb package that I had leaned against our fridge downstairs while I worked on the plumbing. I had enough at that point, there was glass all over the floor, my plumbing was fucked. I just needed to relax. My wife said she would clean up the glass

I went up stairs and dry heaved a few times and then managed to get a few teaspoons of nervous stomach acid out.

I left a message with my boss at 3:00 AM telling him I wouldn’t be in the next day. I was sick, I was throwing up, and my stomach was in turmoil. I was sick, although it was completely self-induced. No virus, no parasites, no bacteria.

I headed to Lowes the next day and scratched my head as to how to really fix this thing. The problem with pipe thread is that you need to get it really fucking tight. The threads are tapered like an Aztec pyramid, and as you tighten the joint it makes a seal along with the pipe dope you put in, but that’s mostly just to lubricate as you tighten. I couldn’t get the torque I need with the location of the joint. I needed to get more clever than the pipe.

I found a couple options. A swivel PEX fitting with a rubber seal, and your basic braided stainless hose, also with rubber seals. With a rubber seal you no longer rely on the pipe threads for the sealing, the rubber does the job.

First I had to take the union completely off. It wasn’t easy. While I was loosening it I called it a dirty whore and a bitch. You have to show plumbing joints who’s boss while you work on them. It finally let go. I got everything hooked up and opened the branch to main.

It seemed OK. I let it sit for a bit, and a tiny bit of water had formed around the connection. I went back throughout the day and it looked like about a drop every two hours was coming out of it. That should take care of itself with corrosion and sediment deposit. I’ll have to keep an eye on it.

My stomach feels better today.

The sisters are in, so check the front line.

We are pleased to announce that Lawryde has accepted a position in Hydraulic Systems Development within Global Machine Development at the Peoria Proving Ground. Lawryde’s assignment at PPG will include hydraulic systems development and validation activities for Pipelayer and D7 programs.

We would like to thank Lawryde for his many contributions to the Track-type tractor engine installation team. Most recently he was successful in completing the D7 cooling system designs on schedule and below target cost. His TTT engine installation and cooling system design experience will serve him well in his new position.

Please join us in thanking Lawryde for his many contributions and congratulating him on this new opportunity. The move will be effective July 1, 2007.

XXXX XXXX
Engineering Supervisor
TTT/TTL/SSL Hydraulic Systems Development
Global Machine Development – PPG

XXXXX XXXXXXXXX
Engineering Manager
Engine Installation & Light Fabrications
Heavy Construction and Mining Division - East Peoria Facility

That announcement makes me sound more important than I am and like I’ll be doing very complex and critical work.

Quick fire questions:

When people with a family history of mental problems (both diagnosed and undiagnosed) say something you did is wrong, is it really wrong?

Why are people without religious affiliation more apt to forgive and not judge others than those who are supposedly Christians?

Why are “normal” people so passive aggressive?

The End is Near

I’ve got about two weeks left at my current assignment at Opposite of Dog. Next month I’ll move out to the sandbox and do hydraulic development work on pipelayers, a subset of track type tractors. (No blade or ripper with a big boom and hook and a big counterweight on either side). I tend to enjoy laying pipe, so it should be a good fit for me.

That was a terrible joke.

I’ve worked at… about 9 different places thus far in my life, but never as long as I’ve been at this job. I’ll still be with the same company, but I’ve gone to the same building for three and a half years.

My physical plant tends to not work well with change. It makes me physically ill.

Maybe I’ve progressed mentally as a human being in the past few years, maybe this will go well.

Note to wife: Perhaps we should buy a swing for the devil baby you are watching. I’ve heard they calm the worst babies.

I’m completely socially inept

In that respect I perpetuate the stereotype of my Engineering brothers.

I have no idea how to relate to normal people or carry on a conversation with them.

My wife is going to watch a baby for a woman in the AP Group. The woman and her husband came over last night to make sure my wife wasn’t a serial killer and our house wasn’t condemned.

My wife was upstairs and the doorbell rang. I answered and they asked if my wife was there. I imagine there was a small amount of shock on their part. I had a short sleeve CCCP hammer and sickle shirt with olive drab shorts on, my tattoos flashing and my nearly baldhead and beard.

I told them I would get my wife and that they should come inside.

OK, that’s a normal way to greet someone.

They come inside and I call up to my wife that they have arrived. Carter is playing in the living room, and I go back over and kind of stand awkwardly, glancing over at Carter and kind of smiling and asking him if he can say hello.

Finally the Husband does the thing I should have done and introduced himself. Then the wife does.

The Husband asks where I got the CCCP shirt, I’m not sure if it was a, hey where did you get that cool shirt, or a hey Commie where did you get that shirt?

I blathered something about ordering it back in college. My wife finally came down and rescued me.

I left and got the stuff ready to take Carter to his swim lessons. As we were getting ready to go, the Husband asked me about North-Central Wisconsin since he was from the area as well. I had no idea what to say. I’m sure a normal human would have had all kinds of things to say about their birth area. Not me.

I was happy to leave and go swimming, even though it has it’s own socially terrible moments for me.

I have no idea what to say to the other dad’s in the locker room. I also have no idea what to say to the other parents while we are in the pool doing the fun little activities with our children.

One of my big problems is that my interests aren’t along the normal everyday Joe public’s interests. My two big hobbies/interests are hockey and tattoos. Most people like football or baseball or basketball, all of which I don’t give a fuck about, and tattooed people are still in the minority, so I typically have nothing in common with anyone I meet.

Listening to Pink Floyd and taking corporate training

I learned last night that it isn’t the smartest thing to give a 15-month-old fried chicken. Not even the skin of fried chicken, the actual meat part. My poor little guy was shitting like crazy all night, and just had a hell of a time sleeping, too much grease in his system.

I shaved my head yesterday, because I was hot, and my hair was annoying me.

I’ve done this at least 2 or 3 times before. Yet most people at Opposite of Dog think it’s this crazy, outrageous thing that is happening for the first time.

It’s really no surprise to me. And that, Steve, is why I can never show my tattoos. They think it’s wild and crazy when a guy shows up with a shaved head.

I’d love to show up with a Mohawk, but the wife thinks that wouldn’t be such a good idea either.

I think I could make a Mohawk look professional.

So the more I think about he bullshit that happened to me regarding my “performance” at work more than a year ago, the more it pissed me off.

The two golden boys who were saying I was doing a shit job and were getting high ratings have since moved on to new jobs.

In this world we are not judged on our real performance, we are judged on the perception of our value.

I was working on the intake and exhaust system; they were working on the cooling system, which I then inherited.

As I’ve been working on the cooling system, we’ve found out all kinds of things are fucked up in it. Bad assumptions were made, data was incorrect, shit just didn’t add up. I’m fixing it. They got high ratings and I almost didn’t get a raise.

We finally got the test results back on my exhaust system. My muffler passed with flying colors. It’s one of the first ever to be on a bulldozer and pass after the first design iteration. Solid as a fucking rock, not even close to failure.

My brain child.

My design.

The crazy tattooed motherfucker who hates Corporate America can design like a kid out in the rain, while Johnny ass kissers who puts on the air of actually doing a good job, actually output garbage which I then fix.

The Swinging Pendulum

In my last post, I wrote about how I had been feeling pretty depressed lately.

Yesterday I had a visit with my therapist and talked with him about depression and how to deal with it and how to be more agreeable to my wife while I’m depressed.

It went well, and I felt better after.

Then last night I took Carter to swim lessons, which is every Wednesday. He loves it. We are, by far, the coolest father son/child duo there, me with my tattoos, and he with his Mohawk. We had a good time.

Later that nigh, I went to sleep, woke up for sex, and then got up refreshed this morning to a thin layer of snow on the ground. Sure it’s April, but there is something calming and serene about snow.

I’m really excited about getting my tattoo tomorrow. I have a feeling it’s not going to be very pleasant, being on the inside of my left arm, but it’s going to be hella cool, and very unique. Sperm whale fighting a giant squid, it just sounds fucking awesome.

I feel the pendulum swinging back to happy.

I’ll take Potpourri Tuesday for $1000 Alex… wait… that doesn’t rhyme.

Don’t use your real name for shit online. It’s ok to use just your first name or whatever, but certainly don’t have your full name associated with whatever sick, twisted, bizarre employment debilitating shit that you’re into. That is why I go by Lawryde online. If potential employer X types A***** L***** into Google they come up with some dudes garden photography and plant portraits, not my heavily tattooed back and my ramblings on how much I hate working in the corporate world.

I’m obsessed with the Muse CD Absolution. It’s so good. I listen to it on the way to work, at work, and on the way home from work.

I’ve been in a really bad, depressed mood the past week or so. I think it’s because I delayed getting my tattoo until this Friday. My wife thinks that means I have an addictive personality. I really, really feel like I need to bleed. That’s not a sign of addiction… is it? Maybe that sounded worse than it actually is. I need to feel the sunburned feeling after getting tattooed and being washed over with endorphins.

In addition to feeling depressed, I feel very physically strong right now. In the past, High School and College, I couldn’t gain any muscle mass. Not that I really tried very hard. Playing video games doesn’t exactly build your pecks. Now that I’m playing hockey on a regular basis and doing push-ups and sit-ups, I’m actually gaining bulk in my arms and chest. This new found feeling of strength really makes me want to fist fight someone. On the top of my list of people I would like to fist fight are the paper-man(he’s not a boy) who delivers the shitty free local Peoria paper (God I hate that fucking paper), the douche bag who was in front of me on the interstate in the left lane chatting away on his cell phone this morning, and Sean Hannity. I should maintain this list and add to it so I don’t forget; much like the people I could be unfaithful to my wife with if I had the opportunity without repercussions. (She has a similar list).



The end is all I can see, and it scares the hell out of me.

That’s how I feel sometimes. Only able to see the end.

Grab the keys

Clear warm night…

Just need to drive and get my head clear.

Damn I love this five speed.

Push it to it’s limits, don’t think, act.

Who else is out at 11:00 on a Tuesday night?

Foot off the gas, clutch in, shift, let up and feel it engage easing into the gas

I don’t know what to do…

Are you there God, it’s Lawryde…

Match the revs and downshift into a corner

I’m no saint either…

Slow down, don’t need to get pulled over

There’s no place like home

Strange ending to a strange night

Although much more enjoyable than expected

85 in 300

My lovely wife and brilliant son went to a birthday party in Gurnee, IL yesterday, so I had free reign of my destiny.

I decided to go see the film 300 since I’m a man and it looked fucking awesome.

I’m also pretty cheap so I went to an 11:00 matinee. When I got there were two college dudes in the theatre. I headed up to the top because I don’t like having people sitting behind me in a theatre. Call it Honest Abe syndrome, but I just don’t like it.

There were about 15 min till the show started so I let my mind glaze over and listened to the shitting stuff they play now before movie previews even start.

Some other dudes filed in who also looked like their wife and kids were doing something else on the mild Sunday morning.

Then, in hobbled an 85-year-old woman (my rough assessment of her age). At first I thought she was lost. She made her way up to the top row and sat about 6 seats to my left. I guess she doesn’t like people behind her in movies either.

The movie started, and after the title flashed, the old woman stayed.

I was confused. Why was she here? Had she done a report on The Battle of Thermoplyae back in 1940 when she was in High School? Was she writing a review for the National Christian Coalition Against Cool Fucking Movies That Are Damaging Our Youth, or the NCCACFMTADOY as I call it?

The movie was fucking tits, by the way. Action, amazing visuals, naked women, half naked ripped men, blood, war, loyalty, death, awesome.

It’s one of the few movies I’ve ever wanted to go see again in the theatre.
So the movie wraps up, and the 85-year-old woman is still there. We exited opposite ways so I didn’t get a chance to see if she looked pumped up like I felt after seeing it, or if she had a look of distaste due to the sex and violence.

Space Madness

Space Madness

They think I’m crazy!

But I know better.

It is not I who am crazy!

It is I who am mad!

Didn’t you hear ‘em?

Didn’t’ you see the crowds?

Oh my beloved Ice cream bar.

How I love to lick your creamy center, and your o so nutty chocolate covering

You’re not like the others!

You like the same things I do…

Wax paper… boiled football leather… dog breath.

We’re not hitchhiking anymore! We’re riding!

I am Lawryde, destroyer of relationships

If you ever get the chance, don’t become my friend, don’t be my relative, and don’t even be an associate of mine. I’ll end up pissing you off. You’ll end up hating me, and unable to stand my company.

I’ve estranged more people in my life in the past few months than I can really even count. It’s my lack of social skills. I don’t understand what normal people need in any kind of relationship I have with them. I invariably say or do something that hurts or offends them.

Step one: Admitting You Have a Problem. Check.

On a side note, I’ve added tags to all 250+ posts. I’m trying to figure out how to put all the tag links on my sidebar for easy navigation. Enjoy.

I’m going to rip my eyelid off…

If it doesn’t stop twitching!!! It’s just the slightest muscle spasm in my eyelid, but it’s annoying as hell. I looked around online and I guess it just starts to happen and then in a few days or a week it goes away.

My boy’s mind and physical abilities have exploded in the last week. He’s got this toy walker thing and he went from not really knowing how to use it to being able to walk around with it, change direction, and stand up using it as well. He’s also started saying “uh-oh”. He already had been saying “Ma-ma” and once in a while “Da-da”. “Uh-oh” is such a change syllable-wise from “ma-ma” and “da-da” it’s pretty neat. He’s so incredible. Each day, I can’t wait to see what he’ll do next.

My fear of dying has begun to creep back into my head. Any amateur physiologists want to explain to me why I always get panicked over it in the shower? Its rise also seems to coincide with my wife’s dissatisfaction with me. Either it’s triggered by it, or my attitude when it surfaces causes her dissatisfaction. I don’t know.

I know I’ve been a bit lax on posting lately. I’ll try to be better, but is seems like I’m always busy with some shit.

Blank Stare

My mind is just a blank page. I can’t think of a single interesting thing to write.

Huh… it’s like a long empty hallway.

Umm…

man, I type shit, reread it and then delete it because it’s such garbage.

All this garbage about how much I hate fantasy football, dirty lying Republicans, stupid large corporations and middle management assholes, none of it worth reading as entertainment or spiritual leveling.

I need something. I just can’t put my finger on it.

I wanted to breathe smoke.

Something along those metaphoric lines.