You Electrify My Life.

30 or so minutes into my birthday it was already a good day. I haven't felt that good since Archie Gimmel scored against Holland in 1978! I’ll have to remember to thank my friend? Will when I see him again for his butterfly flapping its wings creating a hurricane.

I was able to post every day for a month straight. I’m pretty proud of myself. I’m coming up of the 5 year anniversary of this blog. My wife says the tone and content of my posts has changed dramatically over the five years. I’ll have to start reading the archives and see. I imagine it has, when you know no one is listening you yell a lot louder. Now I can’t be fully sure who all reads this. I have a vague idea based on the IP traffic I can see. If you read this post, leave a comment. Anything. Just say hello if you don’t know what to say, or wish me a Happy Birthday, or I’ll block you IP address. I can do that. I’ve blocked several Opposite of Dog IP addresses so no one from work can actually look at this at work, can’t be too careful in that respect.

So yeah, there it is. I’m 29. It’s my last year of not being old. Yes, I’ve already got a careerish type job and a family and a mortgage, but if you’re still in your 20’s you can at least still say you’re in your twenties, grasping at those wonderfully free and burden free early twenties. Hopefully it will be decent, 28 wasn’t particularly great.

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.

Consecutive Blog Post #10

This gets a bit easier as you go.

My new shin guards are pretty tits. (That’s hard to read, like is it beautiful tits, or is it very nearly tits? I don’t know. I guess I’ll go with beautiful tits, although that wasn’t the original intent.) I’ll give them a little test run tonight at rat. Hopefully they will perform as such.

I tend to get to work pretty late these days.

I don’t even wear a tie to work anymore.

Little Oz woke up this morning all bleary eyed and sauntered into the bathroom while I was getting ready for work. He pulled up a stool and sat down and just watched me for like 5 minutes. I looked over at him, his hair all disheveled, and he gave me a big smile.

I find both boys incredibly lovable and entertaining after they’ve decided to get up and have made it out of their room on their own.

I need to seriously look into employing a headhunter to find me a job in Wisconsin. My current strategy is taking too long. Anyone know how that works? I don’t really.

Blog Post a Day Till My Birthday

Nick started blogging again which kind of blew my fucking mind. I think it’s kind of like when you stop using that piece of exercise equipment you bought and it’s never used again. Anyway, he had this post about some website that supports people doing a post a day for a month.

I like the idea of doing a post a day for a month, but don’t like the idea of signing up for some site. So I’ll try it without the support of this site. It’s January 26th, and in a month I’ll be 29. I’ll try for a post a day till then.

We’ll see how it pans out.

I’ve become an orphan at work. I’m done with my beloved D6 until the end of the year (hopefully I won’t be here for that test anyway). So now I’m just going to be passed around from machine to machine to do whatever comes up. Unless some sweet pipelayer work does, then I get to run that because I’m the pipelayer guy.

I was wondering today who thinks about me (because I’m selfish, but that’s another post altogether and I don’t want to burn it here.)

Not necessarily the obvious people who think of me everyday like my wife and kids who are in direct contact with me. I hope they think of me often and fondly, but maybe like random people that I’ve only come into contact with briefly or maybe a long time ago.

Like how about the dudes I used to cut meat with at the grocery store. Do I ever cross their minds?

I can’t remember the dudes name right now, but just now I was listening to Buckcherry “For the Movies” and I thought of the meat department because this dude brought in their CD one day and got me into them. Damn my bad memory… Dan? I think that’s right. Dan was a middle aged dude who trained me how to clean the department and eventually worked his way up to cutting. I wonder what he’s up to. Does he ever wonder what I’m up to?

Probably not, I’m just the warm little center of my universe, no one else’s.

Unless you’re reading this of course, then you’re thinking of me. (Blushing and giggling like a little girl.)