What should I spend my vacation days on? Lately, I've been trying to get down to Hannibal to visit a family I know there. Every time I bring it up my Dad/Boss says stuff like, "Well, if you work this day you can take 'compensation time' and you don't have to waste your vacation days." When, lets be honest, if I actually took all my 'comp' time nothing would get done.
My vacation days are pretty consistent. Out 14 days (only two can be Sundays) I take 5 to visit my friend Jeff and go snow boarding on the East Coast. I take 2 at Christmas time to go to a hotel with my family.... and that's it. So I have 1 Sunday and 6 days. I would love to go sit on a beach somewhere, but that's not so "awesome" alone. And any snowboarding I do is usually in January - March or I just do with my normal days off during the week. So I still have a week to blow this year. I thought about just going to where ever Southwest Airlines was running a special.
Any suggestions?
Vacation Days
Why Not Having Friends Is Expensive
I was taking my parents to the airport this morning at 6AM!!!! and I saw a taxi at the airport that was advertising Aurora to O'Hare $100. I thought that it was almost worth the $100 as I was falling asleep at the wheel. Just think about it. Sometimes having friends is emotionally taxing. Especially when they "bring the drama." But you might consider the financial aspect.
Rides to the airport.
Do you want to hire a taxi or a limo to go to and from the airport in Chicago traffic?
One word: Trucks
Let's face it, if you own a truck, any truck, you are the number one friend of anyone who needs furniture moved. No one wants to pay for a budget truck.
Pizza.
Yes I would like to split a pizza cause after college pizza costs $20 for a small.
Strippers
....
Rent
Living by yourself is expensive.
Also, none of the above things and many others are fun by yourself. Everyone should have a friend that isn't a narc.
Are you a narc?
Not That Anyone Reads My Blog Anymore Anyways
For the love of all that is holy, people!!! Let's talk about your myspace shall we?
One: I might (in the slightest way) be interested in the results of maybe one of the thousands of internet personality tests that tell you what kind of Coke you are, what Lord of the Rings character you are most likely to have a one night stand with, or what kind of kisser you are. However, there is ABSOLUTELY NO REASON to post ALL of the results on your page, complete with graphics. After, I stop the bleeding from my eyes and nose, I realize that I will never look at all the information on your page and I leave, only returning when I feel like slapping my self in the face. I don't care what flavor of icey pops you are, and if I want to find out what kind of kisser you are I wouldn't find out on the internet. Have some class.
Two: Picture on Picture crime is starting to be a problem. Stick to the rules of one and not two. As in, have one flash album, one video, one song, and one background photo (usually better if it is unobtrusive). I can just as easily visit your "pics" on your profile. In fact, Tom in all his wisdom has given you separate sections for your pictures and video. I don't need them animated in four different flash programs on your home page. Also, in the "About Me" section... you can just write the names of your favorite TV shows... I trust you that it is a real show... you don't have to prove it with seven pictures.
Threeve: What the H#$% is with your pictures? You look like you are constantly eating extremely sour candy. Smile. That's what people do in pictures. But if that is your "sexy" face... we need to talk. I'd even take a funny face over your myspace face. Or at least change it up. And if you are going to take a picture of yourself, it's okay to do it at an angle that isn't just showing me the top of your head and your one eye. Unless you only have one eye... then, good job... your hair covers the socket nicely. I can only deduce that you are, in fact, four feet tall and have one eye and you are showing me a picture so I will recognize you when I tower over you and look down while we are in the bathroom, next to the mirror.
Four: Stop using heart as a verb. That is all.
Things I was going to blog about but never did.
"Apples to Apples" and "Boxers or Briefs"
You might recognize these titles from the last "20 something" party you went to. They're not really board games, but only because there is no board. I cannot guarantee there will not be any bored. But seriously people, how the games work is that one person either draws a question or just a card with one word on it. Your job as a participant is pick one of the seven cards in your hand that you think matches the question or the one word in the center. Now here is the crazy part... there is no criteria for who then wins. The person who put the question/word in the center just picks which one he/she likes the best. It could be the most accurate, the closest synonym, or the funnest random card. And so here in lies the problem with these games.
These games could and would be the funniest addition to any party of pretend friends and stuffed animals. The problem is that people play these games. And by people I mean people with no taste. And by no taste, I mean no sense of humor. And by people with no taste or sense of humor I mean, my family. Let me expound...
Example: The card was "The greatest invention of the 20th century."
My answer: The electric chair (clearly the funniest answer and pure genius in the timing and that my sister-in-law's 70 year old mother read it)
The winning answer: Cars
This kind of thing went on for hours. With me executing moves like "pudding" "Danny DeVito" "Walks like a girl" and "is clearly drunk" with no winning tokens to show for it. But I persisted, amusing myself and sometimes the other cynics in the room. And by other cynics I mean my mother.... who is crazier than all-get-out.
(sigh) Nobody gets me.
Goldbond, helping men wear leather pants since 1945
Playing electric guitar while wearing kakki pants is like kissing your sister.
Playing electric guitar while wearing leather pants is like slipping the tongue on the first kiss.
I had one of these experiences on Sunday morning. Can you guess which?
Such A Tool
I don't really consider myself the "Mr. Fix-it, tough guy, grease monkey, tool totin'" type of guy. I consider my construction and tool usage knowledge to be... minimal if at all worth noting. I don't own or wear a wife beater. My hands are not calloused. I don't have a goatee. I'm not sporting a barbed wire or loony toons tattoo. And the hair on my arms does not appear darker because of the oil and dirt soaked into it. If I could say it this way; you're more likely to find me getting my nails done, than hammering nails.
However...
in the past five years, I've started to think that my knowledge (while remedial) may be better than I first thought.
Example:
While visiting a house rented by four girls I fixed a door. They were having people over and they have one of those doors that slide back into the wall. It was off the track and stuck half way. While other guys struggled with it, I simply walked outside to my Foreign import car (not my Chevy truck) and got my tool box pulled out my claw hammer and took down the door. The room was silent and the only reply was, "...you mean, you carry tools in your car? You just have them all the time? That is so cool!"
At this house I have also: Assembled furniture, fix light fixtures, repaired trim, and changed tires.
In these past years I have ripped out walls, hung drywall, plastered and painted, replaced a water pump, and changed numerous other car parts.
I'm starting to wonder if mechanical, construction and carpentry skills are just inherent in the male gene? Anyone need an addition put on their house?
Customer Service?
This is my story... this is my song. So one of the lamps went out in the video projectors at work and I had to call Sharp Electronics to get a new one. This was over three weeks ago. And in calling for a new projector lamp I started a series of events that were to change my life forever. The days are a little hazy and being as I am turning 40 on the 28th of this month (26 rounded up to 30 which might as well be 40) my memory is not what it used to be, but let me go back.
I remember talking to a guy that assured me that the bulb he was ordering for me was the correct bulb and that I was mistaken about the model number... it was the wrong bulb... I had to return it.
I remember then receiving the correct model of bulb, but it wasn't working... I had to return it. (each of these bulbs cost over $500)
I remember (literally every time) calling Sharp Direct then being transferred to Sharp Tech Support and then being transferred back to Sharp Direct with the Tech Support person wondering why you were transferred to them in the first place.
I remember talking to a woman for ten minutes trying to explain the problem and her trying to convince me that they didn't even carry "that product" only to hear her finally say, " ohhh, I thought you were talking about a microwave... you know they have bulbs...but we don't carry them."
I remember interactions like this "Yes sir, it looks like you called here yesterday." "Yes I did. I called four times yesterday, three times the day before that, and five times last week." "Wow! Sir you are really patient, that is such a blessing in itself, you are so blessed." "..."
I remember my neck getting rapped in the chord right before I blacked out and then waking up without feeling in my left ear.
So now I have placed one more order. Maybe it will be right, maybe not. Maybe they will send me a working projector lamp, or maybe that nice lady will send me a new microwave. I am so patient, I am so blessed.
STFU
Just a heads up. If you ever use the word "heart" as a verb, we can't be friends. Just so we're clear... this is the case where some Jr. High prepubescent girl says, "oh... I heart those shoes." So if you are above the age of 13 and you use "heart" in this manner, we can't be friends. This also goes for actually saying out loud any kind of IM/Internet speak. In fact, if you ever look at me after I tell a joke and say "lol man" I will slap you.... I'm not kidding. I won't punch you, because only grown men should be punched. And if you say "lol" you must be a girl or a robot..
Are you a robot?
Clearly, this is "Nacho" (Not your) day
Right now I am so furious that you know what I am going to do?!? NOTHING!!
I stopped by Taco Bell on my way home. We have one of the those KFC, Taco Bell Hybrids. And by hybrid I mean that it has an incomplete menu from both restaurants and everything tastes like fried chicken. The past three times I have gone to this Taco Bell my order has never been right. And it is always the same girl... Laura. She is evil.
She is this girl that looks like she is about sixteen. She is tanned beyond all recognition. And for some unknown reason her lips are the same color as her skin and it looks freakish. She walks around with this dull look on her face like she is too bored with life or she has been smoking pot.
The past three times I have gone through the drive-up she has been there. Like a super villain ready to thwart me. For a month now I have been trying to eat a "steak grilled stuffed burrito combo." This particular combo pairs a steak grilled stuffed burrito with a regular order of nachos and is accented by a large drink of your choice. The three times I have ordered it the results were:
1. A CHICKEN taco supreme and nacho supreme with medium drink.
2. A BEEF grilled stuffed burrito and nachos with a large drink.
(I even double checked it at the window because I knew the price was too cheap. "Are you SURE that it is steak?" "oh yeah, it is."
3. And finally today I received a regular crunchy steak taco, and a BEAN burrito supreme with no nachos!!!! The REALLY STUPID thing is that I looked at the receipt and it says Supreme steak taco and they gave me a regular one. THEY SCREWED UP THE ORDER THAT WAS WRONG!!! And right there at the top of the receipt is the name "Laura."
I was so dumbfounded, I thought of going inside, but was afraid of what they would do next. So I took my food home and bit into the bean burrito and it was COLD ON THE INSIDE.
I'M BEING TAUNTED BY THE SPAWN OF SATAN... LAURA!!!!!!
I will never again visit the drive-thru of this Taco Bell. Because I know that given these past experiences, Laura will be working at Taco Bell for the rest of her life, or until she tans herself to death. Therefore, never again will my order be safe at this establishment.