Nutritional Value of Donuts

I'm eating chocolate donuts for breakfast, and I just noticed that the nutritional contents section on the back of the bag is blank. That can't be a good sign.

Over-thinking It

I had a very strange dream last night. And I remember thinking in the dream that it was a very strange dream. A thought within a thought...do you think I was over thinking it a little?

Sleep Mode

I think I need to adjust the power settings on my internal computer. If I sit still for more than a few minutes, my body tries to go into "Sleep Mode."

Navigator

I used to have one job when my wife and I traveled...navigator. Now, she has the GPS on her phone, and I've become redundant. So now I just sit in the passenger seat and laugh at the ludicrous routes that stupid computer takes her down.

The King

Got treated like a king this morning. Woke up to my wife cooking me French toast and extra crispy bacon. Pretty good Saturday so far.

Chicago Training

Got back from training in Chicago last week. It was sooo cold there (below zero). At one point I was carrying a drink down the sidewalk and the soda froze inside the bottle. My boss is on my list now for suggesting that Chicago in January is a good time to go to training!

Licking the Envelope

Licking the Envelope (v): From the Dictionary of Made Up Words. Origin: Derived from "Pushing the Envelope."1. To test your limits. To push yourself to excel through danger.2. To risk getting a papercut on your tongue.

Water Agony

I was stuck in a really long meeting today, and somewhere around the planned halfway point, I needed to go to the restroom. But since it was my meeting, I couldn't just pop out for a few min. I figured I could hang on until it was over, but as the time crept by, that got harder and harder. And the more I tried not to think about it, the more I thought about it. And the more I thought about it, the more urgent the need became to go...like right now! What made matters worse is that the meeting did NOT end when it was supposed to...in fact, it went on for another half an hour! I was dying. And the water in my glass was mocking me, as it undulated with the vibrations from the table, calling out to me like a siren in the sea...drink from me, drink from me...you already have to go, so what different does it make. I couldn't stand it, so I looked away, only to see the guy's glass next to me condensing as the ice melted, the water sliding down the side of the cup into a puddle on the table. The puddle getting larger and larger until a little river broke away and went snaking across the table...RIGHT TOWARDS ME! I was in agony! And then it started to rain outside. The water pattering first softly against the window and then louder and louder, intensifying in its fury the more I tried to avoid it. My project leader asked me what I thought about the discussion that had been going on, and I answered, "I think I need to go," and I shot out the door.

Mirror Connection

There's something magical, almost connecting, about listening to a song on the radio, feeling your lips moving to the lyrics, and then looking in the rear view mirror to see the lady in the car behind you singing the same song.

Thoughts on Polygamy

I can't even begin to fathom cultures that believe in polygamy.  How must the old wife feel when the husband brings home a new one?  She's just supposed to be cool and go with it on the outside, but I can imagine she's seething on the inside.

I don't know how I'd feel if I came home to find another man living in my house.  My first instinct is to be pissed.  But then again, it might be cool to have someone else to play pool with or go shoot some hoops.

Speeding

A guy I worked with got a speeding ticket the other day on the way to work.  On the way TO work.  I can see getting one on the way home, but why are you rushing TO work?!

Pained Face

Whenever BD had a pensive, thoughtful look on his face, his grandfather would tell him, "You're either trying to squeeze one out or you're wrestling with a thought that's too big for you.  Either way you need to stop."

The Flying Liver

It's no secret that I hate liver.  There is nothing redeeming about it.  And if anyone says differently, they're a bold-faced liar...don't listen to them.  Unfortunately, my mother had different views about this meat from hell.  She seemed to think that good little boys (or even little boys like my brother and I) should choke down liver at every opportunity.  I secretly think that she even made a point to special order it every time we went to my grandparent's house.  To this day, I don't really know how my mother feels about liver, but I suspect that she secretly hates liver as well, but my childhood was some form of passing along of the punishment endured during her childhood.

Either way, liver found its way onto our plates regardless of the protests and screaming that went on to keep it off.  And since my brother and I had to eat it, so did my cousin.  Sorry about that, cuz.  We'd all be loaded up and sent outside.  That was my mother's first mistake...sending us outside.  The second mistake she made was underestimating the aerodynamic qualities of liver as it's catapulted over the neighbor's fence.  Correction...my cousin underestimated the aerodynamic qualities of liver as it's catapulted over the neighbor's fence.  Since his liver not only cleared the fence by about ten feet, but also smacked against the neighbor's house.  I still don't know the secret ingredient in my grandmother's gravy, but I do know that it has amazing adhesive properties. 

That liver clung to the neighbor's house like its life depended on it.  It wouldn't fall no matter how much we willed it.  Asparagus and cauliflower couldn't knock it off.  Squash was no match for the liver.  Needless to say, we got caught when my mother came out, pointed at the liver, and asked, "What the heck is that?!"

And that's when the cruel twist of fate occurred.  Because precisely at that moment, the liver fell off the house and landed with a wet smack on the concrete.  Figures!  I caught a glimpse of the neighbor's dog heading over to investigate through the slats of the fence.  He took one whiff of that liver, and took off running.  He wouldn't even eat it.  Smart dog.

Passing in Texas

I was driving 75 mph down a two-lane highway in Texas one time.  Just to be clear, that's one lane each direction.  Also to be clear, I was going five miles over the speed limit.  Some moron comes flying up on my butt, so close I could read his VIN number in my side mirror.  There was a steady stream of traffic coming the other way, so there was no way he was passing me.  Normally, I would have been a nice guy and pulled over onto the shoulder to let him by, but this stretch of highway didn't have a shoulder.  So, for a few miles, he did the bob and weave back and forth behind me, trying to find his moment.  Finally, he got fed up and just passed me on the right.  That's right...in the grass on the side of the highway.  I saw a smiling teenager and his stupid, smiling friends passing me at over 80 mph in an Oldsmobile in the grass.

Only in Texas!

Emergency Contact

I was a few minutes late for work one day.  I got pulled into the boss's office and given a lecture about how I should call in if I was going to be even a minute late.  I was expected to work my full shift, no excuses.

I was a little miffed, so I sarcastically asked, "What about if something happens to me, and I get in an accident and can't call?"

The boss never missed a beat.  "Work better be the first emergency contact in your phone.  We need to know you're going to miss your shift before anyone else.  When we say no excuses for missing work, we mean no excuses.  Death, at the moment, is the only excuse, and even that policy is currently under review."

First Chin Hair

I was very proud of my first chin hair.  I felt like a man.  I was the first boy in my class to get one, and I wore it like a badge of honor.  Unfortunately, it was sort of off to the side, instead of in the middle where it would have looked the coolest.  So, I took to using hair spray to get it to wrap around my chin.

Setup...Set up...

"I have provided a new proposed setup which includes the new codes that we will setup on the testing platforms."

The above sentence is from an e-mail I recently received.  It illustrates another pet peeve I have in regard to people in the technology industry abusing the word "setup."  Setup is not appropriate to use in every situation.  It really depends on if you're using it as a noun or verb.  If it's a noun, then it's "setup."  (As in the above sentence, "new proposed setup.")  If it's a verb, then it's "set up."  (As abused in the above sentence, "we will set up.")  That's right, two distinct words!  Learn it, embrace it, follow it.

Shut Up!

Some days, like today, there are a lot of impromptu aisle meetings around my cube.  Some days, like today, there is a lot of talking about the start of the baseball season and who got who in the fantasy draft.  Some days, like today, there are some strange noises coming over the cube wall from the guy who can't wait until lunch to eat his lunch, so he starts unwrapping and horking it down for breakfast instead.

On those days, like today, I'm usually struggling to concentrate to get some time-urgent tasks done.  So, I pop my headphones in to drown out the world.  Today, when I turned on my iPod, "Shut Up!" by the Black-Eyed Peas started playing.  I thought it was both ironic and appropriate.

Compression Sessions

SM was reading the Tech Design and Testing Recommendations document on what we are supposed to be doing with the new technical design process.  One of the things listed is 'Project teams will hold Compression Sessions as needed'.

Not knowing what Compression Sessions were, he searched for it on Google and received:  "When 1 or more people smoke marijuana in an enclosed space such as a car, small room. etc."

I wonder if that's what our management really meant when they wrote that in the document...

Streetlights

When I was a kid, I lived in a trailer park.  I know there are preconceived notions about trailer parks and the people that live in them.  Some of them are true, some of them aren't.  Regardless, I met a lot of really great people there.  I played with friends.  I went on the prowl with the lovely ladies (okay, I was nine, so they weren't ladies yet, but you get the point).  I had fun.  And the one thing I remember about those days is my mom telling me to be back home by the time the streetlights came on.

I didn't always make it.  There were plenty of times that I was peddling furiously down the street, over the ditch, and up the hill.  What an odd memory to hang on to.

Ojo Negro

I realized today that I mooned a lot of people when I was in high school.  I'd say that just about all of my friends and family got mooned at least once, sometimes more if they were "lucky."  And I didn't discriminate against gender either.  My female friends got the ojo negro just as often as the male ones.  (Due to its controversial nature, I won't take the time to explain the term "ojo negro" here.  It's a joke between my brother and I.  If you are truly curious, then look it up online and use your imagination.)

But I took the moonings to be a way of expressing my comfort with you.  It was like an initiation into the group, if you will.  A way for you to know that you were accepted into the "inner circle" (pun intended).

I'd Rather Play Than Take Medicine

Every time I turn around these days, I hear of another kid getting diagnosed as ADD or ADHD and put on Ritalin.  I can only recall a single kid in my class ever getting diagnosed as hyperactive and put on medication the entire time I was growing up.  Of course, that was a very different time.  We actually went outside.  In fact, it was hard for our parents to keep us indoors at all.  It was a constant struggle to try to convince my parents that doing my homework before I went out was stupid, because I'd miss all the daylight.

So, is it really the kids' chemicals that are changing or is it perhaps the kind of environment that we set up for them? I mean maybe a diagnosis of ADD or ADHD is really just a sign that the natural process of humans releasing energy is being impeded by the fact that we never get off our backsides long enough to burn any energy off!  This applies to adults as well.  We weren't meant to sit motionless for so long.  We were meant to hunt and play.  Possibly more playing than hunting...

Uh...?

Today, my project leader asked me if fees were calculated once a year or annually.  Without missing a beat, I said, "Well, they have the option to do it once a year or annually, but not both."

Meetings, Meetings...Where Will It End?

Today we had a meeting at work to discuss the number of meetings we were having and how it was impacting our work.  We couldn't come to a conclusion by the end of the meeting, so we set up another meeting next week to continue the discussion.

Stuffed in Greece

I have not managed to avoid gluttony on my trip, but not for lack of trying. Take today for example. We went to a friend's house for lunch. I didn't get to make my own plate, even though I tried. And that meant I had to have quadrupel helpings of everything. I'm not kidding you, there was a pile of food about four or five inches off the plate. So, I made my best attempt to eat it all - not wanting to be rude - and this was my second mistake (the first being not having held onto my plate to begin with). We then were served with not one, not two, but three dessert courses. And each one was bigger than the last. Apparently, the phrase "No, I'm stuffed, and I couldn't eat another bite" gets translated into Greek as "I know I've just consumed the equivalent of a large horse, but please give me the largest piece of cake you can cut...actually, just bring me the whole box." I was hurting when we left. Left to go to another friend's house, supposedly for coffee and talking. I was assured I was safe, so I breathed a sigh of relief. Apparently, coffee and talking in Greece implies - completely without the necessity to say it - that two different kinds of cakes, an assortment of chocolates, and various nut families will also be on the menu. I'm definitely skipping dinner tonight, and most likely all meals tomorrow.

Perfect Greek Day

Absolutely beautiful day today. Coolish, but the sun was out and it was perfect. And I saw it all from the window, since I spent most of it inside. I kept trying to find reasons to go outside, but you know how things go...and then it's dark. Okay, my wife is making me amend this, because she did take me out for a walk on the beach to watch the sunset...it was, you know, sort of romantic...okay! there I said it...happy?

Greek New Year #2

Apparently, last night was only Round 1. We're having a second celebration today as well. I'm already into the elastic pants, and I'm not sure how much further they can stretch! How do Greeks stay so thin?

Embrace the Potato

One of the best lines I ever heard on a Friends episode was when the janitor, Mr. Treeger, says, "I'm just a big potato with arms, and legs, and a head."  As I've put on weight, it's all seemed to congregate in the area of my midsection.  Unfairly, I don't have very big arms or legs, so I've started referring to myself as a potato too.  I'm skinny and fat in all the wrong places.  But, you know, even though I make fun of the way I look, and I certainly am not satisfied with leaving it the way it is, I still think it's important to like who you are inside.  Your looks are only part of who you are.  You have to embrace the potato inside the peel. Whether you're a skinny French Fry, an irregular Sweet Potato, or just a round Golden Russet; you have to learn to love what makes you who you are.  You're a potato, and no matter how you change yourself, you'll still be a potato.

The Basics

"Sometimes we does not have all the fields required..."

That is an extraction from a document written by one of my colleagues at work.  Why isn't a rudimentary grasp of the English language a requirement on job notices?  Who cares if you can use a word processor, if you can't even articulate in the language in which you'll be writing?  Have we focused too much on the advanced knowledge desired from an applicant and overlooked the basics?

Furthermore, most of these people have four-year degrees from accredited universities.  How on earth were they ever passed writing and speaking like this?

The Labra-genius

SM doesn't have a fence around his yard, so he's taken to chaining his Labrador to a stake in the yard.  She most obviously hates the arrangement, because generally people (and taunting squirrels) stand just outside her range of mobility.  So, she devised a scheme of genius proportions.  She took to peeing on her chain in the same place every day.  Eventually, the chain started to rust (and possibly corrode) from the excessive moisture.  When it became weak enough, she gave it one violent jerk, and "Ping!" it snapped.

R.I.P. Mr. Unsuspecting Gray Squirrel...

The Affiliation

Why do we all associate ourselves somewhere?  Like saying I'm Texan or Greek.  Does that define us, or somehow make us better or worse than someone else?  What characteristics do all Texans have - without fail, across the board - other than being from Texas?  What does me saying that I'm from Texas really tell someone about me?  We're not all short or tall, not all blonde or brunette, not all black or white.  We don't all have accents, or drive trucks, or own horses, or have a gun in the back window...much to the dismay of common belief.  We have such pride in where we come from, and yet where we come from really doesn't say anything about who we are.

MOlives

www.saveMOlives.com

I didn't know that Missouri olives were such a rare commodity that we had to set up an entire website devoted to saving them.

The Wind Tunnel

My senior year in high school, my parents took my girlfriend and me on a vacation with them to Colorado. In order to maintain decorum, we got two hotel rooms - my girlfriend and stepmother in one, and my dad and I in the other. This was one of those hotel rooms where the air conditioner was a unit at one end of the room, blowing air at high velocity back toward the other side. My dad and I both have sinus issues, and we sleep with a fan blowing on our faces all year long. So, we each set up a fan on the night stands by our beds in such a way that my fan blew back toward the air conditioner, and my dad's fan was between my fan and the air conditioner, also blowing back toward the air conditioner. Picture a sort of wind tunnel created by this setup. The air conditioner blew air from one end of the room to the other near the ceiling. The air bounced off the wall, got blown back across the room by my fan, got sucked up by my dad's fan, and then blown into the flow of the air conditioner, where it started the cycle all over again.

And that's when it happened. My dad...how shall we say it...let one rip into the breeze of his fan. Where it quickly got caught in the wind-tunnel current and distributed throughout the room. The bad part was that because of the nature of the current, it kept getting circulated around and around, so that every few seconds you received a new full-body waft. I nearly died before I could crawl to the fans and turn them both off until the smell had dissipated.

Coughart

Today at work, I had a coughart. I'm not sure if it was audible, because I had my headphones on, but my neighbor got up and left. Someone else passed out for 20 min two rows away. I started laughing so hard, I cougharted again. And the cycle continued...

Turn Your Back for One Minute

Wouldn't it piss you off if you left your dog in the car, while you popped into a shop to grab something really quick, only to come back out and find that he'd changed all your seat settings?

"Hey, you mangy mutt, put that seat back where you found it! And unlock this door! This is not funny!"

How Old Are You Again?

My wife says that I'm so immature that I act like a 4-year old. She says that she feels more like a mom than a wife. I'd have to say that half of the time, she's dead on. The other half of the time I feel more like 54 years old. My joints pop, I'm crotchety, and I make comments like, "I can't understand girls nowadays with their non-existent shorts."

Sometimes, the switch can be a day apart. The other day, I glued a quarter to the ground just to laugh while people stopped to try to pick it up. The next day, I had completely forgotten about it, and I stopped to try to pick up this quarter on the sidewalk, only to find that someone had glued it down.

Who's Packing?

A recent report showed that 1 in 10 people in any given movie theater in Missouri will be carrying a concealed handgun. That means that approximately one person on every single row of the theater has a handgun.

I come from the great state of Texas, and I suspect that this statistic would be closer to 1 in 2 people carrying a handgun in any give movie theater in Texas. It's so prevalent that we even have disclaimers at the beginning of the movie that said, "Be courteous to your fellow patrons. Please silence all cell phones and put all handguns on safety."

A Valuable Asset to the Company

Lately, we've had a large number of individuals leave our company in search of better pay and more lucrative reward opportunities. So, in an effort to raise morale, our supervisors have been pushing a message about how we are valuable assets to the company.

But let's really think about this a minute, because this is really one of those times when actions speak louder than words. "A valuable asset to the company" is really defined by how much money a company is willing to pay to have you work or stay working for them. I mean, a baseball card listed at $150 is not worth $150 if someone is only willing to pay $60 for it. So, regardless of how amazing we are as individuals, it means nothing if the company isn't willing to acknowledge that.

And in this situation, words of acknowledgment are useless. Money talks or people walk.

Deceased Status

I was working on a file layout at work, and one of the fields was called Deceased Status. The field had two acceptable statuses, "Alive" and "Otherwise." Is there another option besides "Alive" and "Dead" that we need to allow for? Why, "Otherwise" and not just "Dead"?

I posed this question to SM, and he suggested that maybe there is a status that is both "Alive" and "Dead," such as in the Princess Bride where Wesley was "Mostly Dead." Or maybe like in that Monty Python scene, "Bring out your dead...but I'm not dead yet...you're not fooling anyone, you will be soon enough."

Based on this new information, I had to give this more serious thought. What other statuses could you have then? How about "Undead" to describe zombies, vampires, etc.? And suddenly it became clear why they just went with "Otherwise," because the alternative is a lengthy list of possible statuses. It was just easier their way.

My New Workout Videos

I ordered this set of exercise videos off TV, because let’s face it, I’m not getting in shape by just sitting and watching people exercise on TV. It was a whole kit, complete with videos, diet plan, recipe book, work-out schedule, and fitness bands.

So last night, I decided to try out the first video. I bent over to pick up the box off the floor and pulled a muscle in my groin. I decided that was good enough for the first day.

Inside Shoes

When I was three years-old, a stupid little girl threw me off the monkey bars. The ultimate result of this disaster was that I broke my arm. I didn't know that specifically at the time, but I did know that it hurt...a lot. The teacher did her due diligence and called my parents. To their credit, both of them showed up to take care of me. I only remember two things vividly about this memory.

I remember that I would not leave the daycare until my parents changed my shoes. The daycare had a strict policy about not wearing your outside shoes inside, and vice versa. So, here are my poor parents trying to rush me to the emergency room, and I'm crying and won't leave until they changed my shoes.

I also remember that my father brought me a stuffed dinosaur. I named him Dino. I used to carry that thing around by the neck everywhere I went. I still have him. His head flops to one side now, because I squeezed all the stuffing out of his neck.

The Strangeness of Dreams

Have you ever had a dream where you dream about a person you know? In the dream you are consciously aware that the person you are dreaming about is the person you know. Your mind registers this fact. But they don't look like the person you know, act like the person you know, and your dream self doesn't feel about this dream person in the same way that your real self feels about the real person.

And yet your dream self also knows all this. So, you struggle in your dream with two sides to your self. One side acknowledges that this person is in fact exactly who they should be, while the other side tells you that something isn't quite right with them.

Toasting Up Before the Cold

When I was young, my Mom would always wake my brother and I up with steaming cups of hot chocolate on cold days. Each cup had extra marshmallows, hand counted to an equal number, so we wouldn't fight. And while we drank our hot chocolate and took our showers, she would toss our clothes for the day into the dryer to get them all toasty warm for us.

It was a small gesture, but one that obviously stuck with me. I still look back on it and remember it warmly (pun intended.)

Must Sign Your Credit Card

I went to the post office the other day and tried to use my credit card. The lady behind the counter wouldn't accept it because it wasn't signed. I offered to show her my ID, but she said that the card would still need to be signed. So, I signed the credit card, and she processed my transaction.

She then handed me the sales slip to sign. When I handed it back to her, she took it and compared it to the signature on the back of my credit card. Satisfied that they matched, she gave me my card and receipt and wished me a nice day. She never looked at my ID.

I would have to be the stupidest thief on the face of the planet to forge the signature on two documents, one right after the other, with different signatures. What kind of security is that really providing me?

Matches the Spec

BD was testing the latest release of his project's code, and he came upon a situation where the code wasn't acting as expected. He wrote up the defect, and the developer went to talk to him. The developer told BD that it wasn't a defect, because the code matched the spec. The developer then proceeded to pull the spec out and show BD. BD agreed that the spec the developer had printed did indeed say that, but he told the developer that he didn't have the latest version of the spec.

The developer pointed to the paper and said that that's what the spec said, so it wasn't a defect. BD pointed to the paper and said that it wasn't the latest version of the spec, so it was a defect. The developer tapped the paper and said that the code matched the spec, so it wasn't wrong.

BD having come to the end of his patience for the situation, picked up his pencil and marked through parts of the paper. He then told the developer that the code no longer matched the spec, so it needed to be changed. The developer stood there for several minutes looking at the paper, before he picked it up and walked away...beaten.

The Dangers of Low-Riding Pants

BK walked past this guy, how should we say it, of the darker persuasion, and the guy had his pants riding just above his kneecaps. He had on a belt, but BK could only surmise that it was only there to make the guy walk funny and to keep his pants from going completely to his ankles.

After BK was past the guy, he turned and shouted, "Hey, bro, you have a skid mark in your underwear!"

My Horn

The horn on my car is pathetic. I'm too embarrassed to even use it. It's this weak, barely audible "beep, beep." But that really doesn't do justice to just how pathetic it is. Every time I hear it, I imagine this weenie, timid little man saying something to the affect of, "Excuse me. Uh, could you please not cut me off like that? I mean, you know, if you feel like it. You don't really have to, if you don't want, but it'd be nice if I didn't have to swerve off on to the shoulder. Not that swerving off on the shoulder is a problem by any means. I just felt bad about the swatch of wild flowers I just took out with my tires. You know, on second thought, just forget I said anything. You're right, it's your road, and I had no business getting in your way. I hope you have a nice day."

The Coffee Pot

This morning the coffee pot made a "pfft" sound at me.  That's the best way I can describe the sound it made as I "compressed" out the last few drops from the canister.  It was mostly air with a few drops of coffee that sprayed all over the place.  Does that signify that your day couldn't possibly get much worse, when the first thing in the morning, the coffee pot basically tells you to f-off?

The Chirp

DH said that he was awoken by a chirping sound at 2 a.m. on Saturday morning.  He tracked the intermittent chirping all over the house until he finally figured out that it was coming from the smoke detector upstairs, telling him that the battery was low.

How come smoke detectors always wait until the middle of the night to let you know they're about to die?  Is that something designed by the engineers to give them a chuckle on slow nights?

The Woodpile

BK was telling me that he trained his dog to go get logs off the woodpile and bring them up to the house, so BK doesn't have to trek out to get firewood during the winter.

BD told me that his dog has a similar talent. He goes and gets the logs and piles them by the backdoor, then his dog takes them and drags them back out to the woodpile.  In his mind, I'm sure the dog thinks he's helping.  He probably thinks BD needs more exercise or something, so he's trying to help by forcing him to walk back down to the woodpile.

If You Write It, Nobody Will Read It

I realized my complete insignificance at my job today.  My team was meeting to discuss the tasks that were left to do.  The project leader made a comment that he felt that a lot of the requirements were being missed in the code, mostly because he didn't think the programmers were reading my requirements documents.  So, he point blank asked them, starting with the fact that he was guilty of not always reading them.  One of them said that she tried, but sometimes she got too busy and didn't always make it back to the documents.  The other one said that he didn't read the documents, nor did he have any intention of reading them.  At least he was honest, I guess, but it still hurt.

No intention of reading them.  I guess they provide no practical benefit to him.  I guess outlining exactly what the system should do, the steps describing exactly how it should do it, and pseudocode to further show how it should be accomplished is useless.  Then again, that's probably why I write up more defects on his code than anybody else's.  His stuff doesn't work as expected.  There's stuff missing.  But who cares?  It doesn't matter what the client wants.  It doesn't matter that missing requirements puts the company into risk of liability.  It doesn't matter that the users of the system will lose money in their accounts, because he decided that he wanted to do this calculation before that one.

My favorite part is when I write up a defect, and he blames me for it.  Says that I didn't document it correctly in the requirements document.  How would he know?

Thwarted by a Bullet

Recently, it was brought up that we were duplicating the documentation on our project.  The BA writes up a User Interface Specification to explain how a screen works.  Then the QA would take the UI Spec and write test scripts to test the functionality on the screen.  However, when they got done, the test scripts contained no additional information from the UI Spec.  Then, all the test scripts had to be listed in a third sheet to show testing progress - Pass, Fail, Untested, etc.  All this was done in MS Word.

So, we spent weeks conducting meetings to decide how best to reduce this duplication of work.  I came up with a solution that utilized MS Excel to house the UI Spec, with columns that could also be used for testing, and code that tracked and recorded the testing progress.  The solution seemed to meet all our requirements.  There was less effort needed for duplicating work and less documents for housing all the crap we needed.

One day out of the blue, I was informed by the Lead BA that the project team would no longer be using my sheet.  When I asked him why not, he informed me that nobody on the team knew how to make a bullet in Excel, so they were scrapping the whole idea and going back to the old way.  I told him that I could help them figure out a solution, but he told me that it wasn't worth my time, because they'd already started converting everything back to MS Word.

A bullet?  Seriously?  How lame is that?  I did figure out how to do a bullet in Excel using an ASCI code, but it made no difference, as the Lead BA stated.  So, a quick easy solution was passed over in order to go back to what was familiar.  All progress toward a better system thwarted by a bullet.

Unbalanced Raises

In these trying financial times, everyone is feeling the pinch...well, almost everyone.  My company decided to suspend pay raises in an effort to curb costs.  Each year, the subject comes up again, a re-valuation to determine if this year will be the one.  We finally did get our raise, if you can call it that.  It amounted to about $25 a month.  I know that's at least something, and I'm truly thankful.  I was even satiated...that is until last December when the managers and directors pulled in their raises.  Which amounted to about $500 more a month.

Let me put this into perspective.  My bills, based solely on the cost of living, have gone up about $40 or so a month.  That means that I'm now $15 short each month.  Now, keep that in mind when I tell you that when my director got his raise, he started going around the office asking people if they thought he should buy a new Mercedes or new BMW.  I wish that was the end of this story, but it's not.  Last week, he was stopping people in the hall to ask them if they could figure out how to open the band on his new $10,000 Rolex watch.  This show was based partly on his ineptness and partly on his desire to show off the stupid watch.

So, basically he just spent an obscene amount of money on a watch...a watch...seriously, a watch.  I have a $15 watch from Wal-Mart, which tells the time in 2 countries, has a stop watch, is waterproof, and has a little light to see the time in the dark. (And I could easily figure out how to open the band.)  His just tells time.  And what he spent on it could pay my mortgage and house taxes for the entire year!

The discrepancy in raises is bad enough, but his complete cluelessness to how it makes people feel to see him spending money on luxuries and extravagances when they can't even make their bills each month, blows my mind.

Something tells me he didn't need that raise in December nearly as much as I did.

A Working Understanding

BK has a picture of the IT guy for his site asleep at his desk. When it came time for the IT guy to redo BK's machine, he asked him to make sure he got the standard Windows games with the new install. The IT guy told him they weren't allowed to have games on their work computers, and BK showed him the picture. BK enjoys playing Solitaire and Minesweeper during the slow times.

Some people might call this blackmail, but BK likes to refer to it as "a working understanding."

Don't Wake the Bear

Yesterday morning my dead beat brother-in-law (who lives in my house) turns the TV on at 5:30 in the morning, and wakes me up. So instead of flipping out and yelling at him, which I would do in the past. I went into the garage and loosened his cable cord so it would go in and out. Then he says to me. "My cable is messed up, can you look at it?" I said, "I have too much work to do right now, but I will get to it later." He's still waiting.

- Contributed by BK

Good...Or Is It Well?

When I was a freshman in high school, my uncle came over to our house for a cookout one weekend. While we were sitting outside, basking in the aroma of sizzling hamburgers, he asked me how school was going. I replied, "Most of my classes are fine, but English is not going so good." He smiled and said, "Well, it's no wonder when you speak like that. It should be that 'English is not going well.'"

For some reason that conversation stuck with me. It defined me. I strove to improve my grammar. I also went on a tear, correcting everyone who used "good" and "well" improperly. My stepmother still hesitates whenever she's about to use "good" or "well" in a sentence. I can almost see the processing of which one she wants to use. Either that, or she's trying desperately to find another way to say it and avoid using "good" or "well" altogether.

Wallets and Geniuses

My brother once told me that you could always tell a genius, because he carried his wallet in his front pocket. I found this statement fascinating, so I asked him how he knew that. He said because the two smartest people he knew both carried their wallets in their front pocket. His best friend, Chris, and me.

That was the nicest compliment he ever gave me.

Death by Sneeze

When I was in high school, I worked for an accounting firm, copying and organizing tax returns. My place of work consisted of a 4 foot by 6 foot former closet with no windows or vents. There was one small door at the far end, and you had to squeeze by the quite-large copier to get to it.

My boss was notorious for having bad breath. In one sitting he'd eat tortillas with mayonnaise, chocolate cake, pretzels, and a large Diet Coke. To top it off, I don't think he ever brushed his teeth...ever. He also had space issues. He felt the need to get very close to speak to you. Being cornered by him in my "closet" was bad enough, but it really sucked when he'd come in there and sneeze. This noxious cloud would slowly fill the entire room and hang. It would cling to everything, emitting its deadly ghastliness.

As I've previously said, this was a closet without windows or vents. I had no circulation. So, that Death Sneeze would just sit in there and slowly take years off my life. I couldn't leave, because I had to complete my work. I was trapped.

One day, I came crawling out on all fours gasping, "Air...I need air." I thought the receptionist was going to fall out her chair laughing. When she got done laughing, she felt sorry for me, so she brought me a fan that I could switch on when my boss left to help blow the Stink Cloud out the door. That fan was the only reason I'm here today to tell you this story.

Thank you, Judy!

Sasquaflops

My wife doesn't have big feet by any stretch of the imagination, but for some reason she bought these enormous house shoes. It's a "feet" that she manages to stay in them as she's walking (pun intended). I think it has a lot to do with the fact that she mostly just shuffles around without actually picking up her feet. She claims they're warm and well-padded, but I tease her that she looks like she has gigantic feet and that her footprints look like sasquatch has been trapsing through our house. Today, she told me to leave her Sasquaflops alone. I think it's catchy. We just might start a whole new line of enormous house shoes called, "Sasquaflops." So, be on the lookout for them in your local Wal-Mart.

The Pope Becomes a Saint?

In an article from MSNBC, evidence is given that the Catholic Church is trying to make Pope John Paul II a saint. The article discusses the steps that need to take place before sainthood can be bestowed on the former pope. At the end, readers are asked to provide comments and reactions to the news.

One reader wrote:
"The Saints could use him in their ranks. Their secondary sucked against the Seahawks."

Classic.

Source:
http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/41072284/ns/world_news-europe/?gt1=43001

Taco Bell...Authentic Mexican Food

Taco Bell cannot, or rather should not, advertise as authentic Mexican food. When 16-year old white kids make it, it can't possibly be authentic. At least in Texas they hired authentic Mexican people to make the food. It was a good way to demean the employees even more (as if working at a fast-food restaurant isn't demeaning enough) by forcing them to make fake Mexican food for people who have no appreciation for authentic quality. Of course, you FEEL as if it's authentic, since authentic Mexican people are serving it to you. And then, there's that Chihuahua that speaks Spanish...well, Spanglish, but close enough. Just like the food.

Cake

Why do they say you can't have your cake and eat it too? Of course you can! Just because you eat it doesn't mean you don't have it anymore. It's just inside you.

Just For Men

I was on the Hair Care aisle at Wal-Mart, and I noticed the myriad of hair coloring options.  I mean just about every shade you could ever possibly want to turn your hair is available in a small, rectangular box.  But what caught my eye was the shelf that sported several shades of gray for men.  Gray?  Really?  What would the commercial for that product be?

"Just For Men...Gray...Because I have a little brown that's messing up the symmetry."

MMM

Awhile back, a few of us guys here at work started a movie watching club.  The idea came about when it was discovered that our wives all attended an all-ladies movie watching club.  We'd get stuck watching the kids all day while they were out living the "single" life.  The guys decided that we needed a club of our own.  A way to get away from it all for a few hours to just be men.  We'd eat things like burgers and steaks, laugh about whose wife was worse, and view quality (or not-so-quality) entertainment.  So we formed a secret club, and we called it the Man Movie Mayhem.  Code name MMM, for short.

So, the next month we proceeded.  One of the guy's wife was going to spend the day at her mother's house, so the rest of us made up excuses to sneak out of the house and congregate at his house.  Each month, we rotated around to each guy's house, so as not to put too much burden on any one guy or draw to much suspicion to our activities.

Our movie lineup included classic movies like Must Love Dogs, You've Got Mail, Bridget Jone's Diary, and Robin Hood: Men in Tights.  Everything was fine for the first few months.  We never felt more free or liberated.  We were men.  We were living like men were meant to live.  That is until my wife happen to come home early and catch us in the middle of a viewing of Pride and Prejudice.  I never heard the end of it.

The Man Movie Mayhem club was disbanded shortly after.  The irony of it is that the women were apparently getting together to watch action flicks.

The Smell of Death

I hate the smell of lilies.  They always remind me of death.  Their pungent, over-powering aroma is the only concrete memory I have of funerals.  I know there are lots of other flowers present in funeral bouquets, but lilies seem to stand out.  Now, whenever I smell a lily, I think of death.

The Web Cam

I got a web cam the other day for my computer that does HD at 720p.  Now, my web cam displays better picture than my TV.  How sad is that?  I think I need a new TV.

The Switches

Outside the Subway in historic downtown, there's a bank of light switches on the brick wall.  There's really no obvious clue as to what function these switches perform, so I can only surmise it must be so the power company can come turn off your electricity if you don't pay your bill.  

Of course, you could just wait until the technician's gone and switch it back on.  Then, after a few days of this back and forth switching, you might get a strongly-worded note in the mail to stop flipping the switch.  You, of course, continue to switch it on.  At which point, you might receive a final ultimatum explaining that next time they'll use tape.  You come back to find the switch held in place with electrical tape.

Yes, electrical tape...what other kind of tape would you use to cover a light switch? 

White-Noise Speakers

My company is investigating installing white-noise speakers to help drown out floating conversations around the office.  This intrigued me, so I did a little research on them.  Apparently, white is not the only color you can get.  Each color hits a different wavelength of noise, so you can target the high tones, low tones, etc.  One company even has a setup that if configured just right will also block conversations involving unpleasant tasks and assignments sent via e-mails and instant messenger.  They're called the "Selective Listener" speakers, but I'm pretty sure our office must already have those installed.

If You Light It, They Will Come

Whenever we'd go out for a steak dinner with my stepfather, he'd get impatient at how long it was taking.  Especially since his favorite answer to how he'd like it cooked was, "Just knock the horns off of it, and throw it on the plate."  One time, after a particularly long wait, he informed us that he was going to hurry the process up.  He then proceeded to light a cigarette.  No sooner had he taken his first drag and set the cigarette in the ashtray, then the waiter brought out our steaks.  To say the least, I was amazed.  He truly was a magician.

The next time we went out for steaks, I hadn't forgotten his cigarette trick.  After about 10 min or so, I asked him if the trick would work again.  He said, "Let's find out," and he lit up a cigarette.  Immediately, our steaks arrived at the table.

I've seen him perform this trick dozens of times since, and I still don't know how he does it.  It doesn't matter if we've waited five minutes or 45 minutes.  As soon as he lights that cigarette, the steaks will come.

The Bar Code Tattoo

BD says that if he ever gets a tattoo that it'll be a bar code on the back of his neck.  I asked him what it would say if someone scanned it, and he said it'd be cool if it represented his name.  I told him that that would definitely come in handy if he was killed during a robbery.  Then, the CSI team could just scan his neck to identify him without having to wait on dental records.

Ricky Martin Screensaver

When I was in college, I replaced my roommate's Anna Kournikova screensaver with a Ricky Martin one.  He adamantly held that he abhorred Ricky Martin more than anybody else.  So, I thought he'd appreciate the change.  Just to be sure he'd be sufficiently inconvenienced by this gesture, I password protected it as well.  Oh, did I mention that it sang "Livin' La Vida Loca" too?

The first time he came home and saw it, he nearly had a conniption.  When he found out it was password protected as well, and he couldn't turn it off, the vein in the side of his head started throbbing.  He proceeded to reboot the computer and went to do something else while he waited.  By the time it had come back up, he had completely forgotten about the screensaver (yes, it took his computer so long to boot up that he had sufficient time to forget about it).  He went about downloading more illegal music and pictures of Anna Kournikova.  A few hours later his attention had been drawn to EPSN Sports Center (which was perpetually on whenever he was home), and after 10 minutes or so, his screensaver came up and started singing "Livin' La Vida Loca."  He got pissed all over again, and I could hardly contain my laughter when I heard it.

As much as he complained about that stupid screensaver, it stayed on his computer for 3 months.  I don't know if he couldn't figure out how to get it off, or if he secretly was a closet Ricky Martin fan after all.

New Artwork

In an effort to appear more cultured and sophisticated, the office manager decided to acquire some new artwork for the walls of our office.  However, since she's neither cultured nor sophisticated, she proceeded to hang this abstract art upside-down.

Texas Children

It's funny that when most people hear the word "Texan," they think of gun racks in your truck.  I don't know why, but far be it from me to break the misconception.  So, when MC asked me if this rumor was true, I told him absolutely.  In fact, it's all a product of how we're raised.  Every Texas child has a Power Wheels...let's say truck, but something big and mean, like a Dooley truck...with a gun rack and BB gun in the back of it.  We drive around screaming obscenities at sticks and squirrels that get in our way or cut us off.  MC laughed, then looked at me and asked, "Really?"

They're Labeled for a Reason

At work I have ear buds for my iPod.  They are labeled with an "L" and "R" to indicate the appropriate ear to stick them in.  Today, I accidentally picked up the "R" ear bud and stuck it in my left ear.  I thought I was going to have a heart attack.  I was totally grossed out.  Cross-ear-waxation is not something I take lightly.

Technological Paradox

The technological paradox is an age-old concept whenever discussions arise as to the usefulness of technological advancements in our culture.  Basically, it states that humans reached a point in their existence when they had no leisure time.  They were forced to work all the time to survive.  So, they used technology to invent ways to do their jobs faster and easier.  This allowed them more leisure time.  It worked for a while, until humans realized that with the extra leisure time, they could work more and make even more money.  However, this brought them right back to where they started.

So, they invented more things to help make their jobs faster and easier.  Which gave them more leisure time again.  But then after a while, they realized they could use the extra time to work more and make more money.  And so the cycle goes on and on.

I was asked recently if I thought technology had made our lives better or worse.  There are tons of examples all around as to how technology has made our lives easier.  But are the side effects really worth it?  I’m going to use two examples to illustrate my point…I’m fat, and the kid at the check-out lane can’t make change. 

I work like most of the world in an office at a computer.  I rarely leave my desk, because to be honest I have no need.  If I want to talk to someone two desks away, then I just send them an instant message.  I have e-mail, phone, web conferencing…every form of communication within arm’s length.  In addition, the product that comes from my labors is virtual, not physical, as we write software, so the most workout I get is with my fingertips.  The consequences of this total lack of needing to move…I’ve put on 50 pounds since I got out of college.

I was at the store the other day paying for groceries.  The total came to $11.67, and I handed the kid at the check-out a $20 bill.  He punched the $20 button on the register, and it spit back a number, $8.33.  He jumped right in to pulling out my change.  He grabbed a $5 bill, then froze.  He looked back up to the display, then grabbed three $1 bills.  Then, he froze.  He looked back at the display, then grabbed three pennies and three dimes.  The show of confidence as he handed me my receipt and change indicated that the kid had no clue that he could have given me a quarter and nickel instead of three dimes.  A sixteen year-old kid can’t make change in his head, nor does he know how to make change with the least number of coins.  The Subway near my office eliminated that problem.  The cash register automatically spits out the correct change into a little bowl at its side when the checker hits the total key.  I guess they were having serious problems with people giving out an incorrect amount of change.

I see a lot of benefits to how technology has made our lives easier, but as a side effect we have become less physically active and in some cases, stupider.  Not to mention that we have become so dependent on technology that we can’t do the simplest, most basic tasks on our own anymore.  If you don’t believe me, try doing math in your head without a calculator or some formula on a spreadsheet.  Wash your clothes by hand.  Pump up your tires with a hand pump.

I think the worst example of technology spoiling us is evident in the fact that my brother can’t go tent camping without an air mattress and portable air conditioner.  He’s such a wuss.  I never bring that kind of crap with me when I stay in my luxury cabin with queen-sized bed, full kitchen, and fireplace.

The Bullies

There has been a lot of publicity in the news lately about bullying in schools.  But you never hear about bullying in the workplace.  It happens.  We might try to disguise it with different terms, but it’s still bullying.

Last year, I was a victim.  The lady sitting next to me seemed to have it out for me, for no particular reason.  She would eavesdrop on my conversations and phone calls, as well as collect gossip from my project leader.  Then, she’d twist the facts to make up plausible, yet completely false, stories about what I was “up to.”  Finally, she’d file a complaint with my supervisor about my elicit activities.  Of course, I’d get talked to about it.

A friend of mine is going through it now.  A colleague of hers has decided that she doesn’t like my friend, and has started causing trouble for her.  She’s reported that my friend takes an excessive amount of time off, not just vacation and sick time, but breaks from her desk as well.  She’s spied on my friend, and collected chat history and e-mails to use against her.  My friend was not as fortunate as me, and was recently written up for her behavior.

The short-term consequences of this form of bullying is a vast amount of unnecessary stress and mental anxiety.  The long-term consequences can be much, much worse.  So, why do these things happen?  Did we do something to our attackers to cause them to take revenge on us?  The answer in both situations is, “No.”  We are victims of bullies.  People who enjoy the misfortune and pain of others with no discernible gain other than a sense of power over their victim.  They think nothing of the consequences of what they’re doing.  They don’t care if they destroy someone.  To them, it’s a game.

Unfortunately, it is just as mentally draining and frightening to try to deal with the situation as an adult as it is as a child.  There are consequences for retribution, whether that be starting a smut campaign of your own or just punching the person out.  In fact, the consequences can be, in a lot of ways, worse for an adult.  You have families, bills, and responsibilities to think about.  You can’t afford to lose your job or possibly go to jail.

So what can we do?  Pretty much the same thing as we did as a kid.  We either endure it and pray the situation fixes itself, or we leave and go somewhere else.  What else can we do?

The Elevator

I work on the second floor of a 3-story building.  Just to be clear, that means there's one floor above me and one below me.  So, can anyone explain to me why it takes twice as long for the elevator to come when I call it than it takes to travel between floors once I'm actually in the elevator?

If the elevator doesn't happen to be waiting at the second floor, which I assume it isn't, then it can only be at worse one floor away.  I realize that nobody would splurge for an express elevator for a 3-story building, but this is ridiculous.  I can press the button, run down the stairs to the first floor and back again, and still be back before the elevator arrives.

What happens when I press that button?  Does it send an electric shock down to wake up the hedgehog that is secretly turning the crank that moves the elevator up and down?  Does he have to scratch and groggily wipe his eyes before he can get to work?

I wonder what the firefighters would do...watch the building burn down while they waited for the elevator?

The Faithless

As I drove to church this morning, I was amazed to see the number of people that found something else to do.  People jogging, biking, walking their dogs, going grocery shopping, mowing their yards...to name a few.  I'm sure there were many, many more that chose to simply sleep in that I couldn't see.

What has happened to this world?  How is it that people have grown so faithless that they don't deem it important to give God His due?  The fact that today is absolutely gorgeous should be even more of a reminder that He is awesome.  They take all He gives - His blessings, His gifts - but they can't quit being selfish for just one day to acknowledge what He's done for them.

I can't gripe about everyone, because I'm sure there are people that go to church on Saturday, or Sunday night, or Wednesday night, or some other time.  I'm sure there are people that usually go, but miss every once in a while.  (I'm guilty of that.)  And I'm sure there are extenuating circumstances that prevent some people from getting to church, but sleeping in and mowing your yard are not it.

But since I'm on this soap box, I'd have to say that the most annoying people out there are the ones driving along, ten miles under the speed limit, on a one-lane road, with absolutely nothing to do, and making those of us that are trying to get to church late.

Sultan of 'Not'

"Arizona Diamondbacks third baseman Mark Reynolds is one of the more remarkable hitters in history. Two years ago, he became the first major leaguer to surpass 200 strikeouts in a season. Last year, he improved on that epic performance with 223 whiffs. This year, he's threatening to set a new mark yet again. Perhaps not since Babe Ruth broke the home runs record each year from 1919 to 1921 has the game seen such a display."

Source:  Wall Street Journal: Personal Journal, August 24, 2010.

Royals Player Has a Shot at a Record

A Kansas City Royals player has a shot at one of baseball's toughest records.  Through Sunday, first baseman Billy Butler has hit into 26 double plays this season, giving him a legitimate shot at surpassing the record of 36 set by Jim Rice in 1984.  What makes the feat even more impressive is that Butler has managed to do it without the support of his teammates.  Rice set the record hitting behind Wade Boggs and Dwight Evans, who both ranked in the top 10 in on-base percentage.  Which is in stark contrast to Kansas City, whose lead-off hitters rank ninth in the American lead with their number two hitters ranking twelfth.  So, essentially Butler has hit into double plays without anyone on base.  Now, that IS a special feat!

Source:  Wall Street Journal:  Personal Journal, August 24, 2010.

Humming

I was in the bathroom today when I unexpectedly heard humming coming from the stall next to me.  I immediately recognized the tune.  The guy was humming, "If I Only Had a Brain" from the Wizard of Oz.  I started laughing.  When I saw who it was, I couldn't contain myself.  It just made perfect sense.

Abbie Hoffman

In 1971, Abbie Hoffman, a former rioter and protester, published a book called "Steal This Book."  Many bookstores refused to carry the book, because people kept stealing it.

The Chicken or the Egg

Which blinked first...the chicken or the egg?

I'm thinking the chicken, since the egg doesn't have eyelids.

Too Good at Being Me

Do you ever suddenly stop in the middle of your day and think, "I feel like I did the same thing yesterday"?   And the more you think about it, it seems that every day seems too similar to the day before.  You're being efficient and getting done what you are assigned, but still it has lost its excitement.  Most days you feel like you're on autopilot, because it doesn't really require 100% conscious thought to perform your duties.

I feel like this.  I have large chunks of my day that I can't seem to recall.  I have obviously done something as things are getting done, but I have no conscious recollection of doing them.  It's as if my body is so well-trained to "be me" that it doesn't really need my brain to be involved anymore.  The worst part is that I genuinely want to add something new, something exciting; but I can't.  I have found the best, most efficient way to "be me" that I can't think of any other way to do it.  Besides, short deviations aren't enough.  It is too easy to slide back into the routine.

I'm just tired of having a deja vu experience about a deja vu experience.  I feel like I'm living my life two steps behind.  I'm sure it was interesting the first time, but now it's just the status quo.  Barring changing jobs every other week, how does anyone have enough variety in their job to keep it interesting?  I mean, even if you had different experiments, cases, or clients; the underlying processes are still the same.  Enough the same to make it stale.

Denim Diapers

I recently saw a Huggies commercial for a new diaper that looks like denim blue jeans.  The baby that's sporting them in this commercial is strutting through a crowd of on-lookers, as if it's cool to wear your diaper right out in the open.  I guess these new diapers are supposed to give kids more self-confidence.  They no longer have to be ashamed that their diapers are showing.  Seriously, do you think they care?  Are these more for the kids or the parents?  It's funny to me that they'd market them to babies.  Are they going to point at the screen and ask to get denim diapers?

9

My dad is obsessed with the idea that our family is somehow connected to the number 9. I’m afraid to say that that obsession has been passed down to me. It started with easy things, such as a birthday having a 9 in it. (My dad’s is on the 29th.) Then it started to get spooky and widespread. In fact, the more we looked for it, the more the number 9 started to crop up. Of course, I’ll have to explain the rules as to what makes it legitimate.

1.  The number 9 is physically in the entity in question.
2.  The numbers in the entity add or multiply to the number 9.
3.  You can’t subtract or divide the numbers in the entity to arrive at the number 9.
4.  Mathematical operations cannot be performed for more than one iteration to get the number 9. (Such as my soccer jersey number, which was 28. I could divide 8 by 2 to get 4. Then, I could add 8, 2, and 4 to get 14. I could divide 4 by 1 to get 4. Then, I could add 4, 1, and 4 to get 9. While creative, this is not valid. Needless to say, I spent a lot of time on the bench…lots of time to think.)
5.  Any logical separation of the entity can be used to arrive at the number 9. Such, as you can take merely the month and day of a birthday without using the year.

Now, some examples of places this has occurred in my life:

• I was born at 9:33.
• My apartment number is 29C.
• I used to live at 549 Marino Rd.
• My cube number is 2070.
• I park in spot 81.
• I have been married on the 18th, 19th, and again on November 2, 2003. (Can’t see the last one, just add up 1 + 1 + 2 + 2 + 0 + 0 + 3.)

It’s not just me, though:

• My stepmother’s birthday is on February 7th.
• My dad and stepmother were married on April 23rd. (Again, 4 + 2 + 3.)
• Heck, my dad's favorite baseball player of all time, Ted Williams, even wore the number 9 on his jersey.

I’ll stop there, as that constitutes the perfect number of examples. (Think about it.) I predict this pattern will continue in our lives. It seems harmless enough, but it’s interesting to see it in action. I wonder if your life has a common number. Have you ever thought about it?

Trying to Understand a Scot

B.D. "I don't like them because they're from Glasgow.  Or maybe Ayr, which is pretty much the same thing, because people from Ayr wish they were from Glasgow."

D.K. "There sure are a lot of predjudices in Scotland.  You guys seem to hate everyone, even other Scots."

B.D.  "We're a clan-based nation, what did you expect?"

D.K. "But it's not just clan rivalry.  You guys hate certain political groups, people from any country other than Scotland, stupid people, religious people, people who like it above 65 degrees in the house, and people who can't grow a full beard in a day.  Then, you reserve the right to throw people from certain cities into any one of those categories, just to justify them being on your 'list'. 

"Oh, and the list...don't get me started on the list.  Any minor offense can get you thrown onto the list.  Like the guy that took the last Splenda packet or the guy that left the coffee pot with less than a half a cup of coffee left, so you'd have to make more.  Or the guy that has too much chrome on his GMC Yukon, which then puts anyone that drives a Yukon on the list.  The list is just a loophole for random hatred."

B.D. "Is there a problem with this?"

DID

The great thing about having Dissociative Identity Disorder (Multiple Personality Disorder) is that you always have someone to listen to you when you're talking to yourself in the mirror.

Half Empty or Half Full

Is the glass half empty or half full? This is an age-old question used to determine if you're a pessimist or an optimist by how you view the world. Some may argue that it's always full - containing 50% of water and 50% of air. Some (engineers) may argue that the glass is twice as big as it needs to be. While others still may argue that it depends on the previous condition of the glass. If it was previously empty, then it is now half full, having had water added to it. If it was previously full, then it is now half empty, having had water taken from it.

I think the more important questions to ask are...(If it's not my glass.) "Why didn't you clean up your dishes?!" and (If it's my glass.) "Who's been drinking my water?!"

Not Microwaveable

"Not Microwaveable."  That's what it says on the top of my watermelon container.  Why would anyone microwave watermelon? 

S.M. thinks the warning refers to the container itself being used to heat up food, but I'm pretty sure he's wrong.  It clearly refers to the watermelon.

Twisted Underwear

My dad once got a pair of underwear that had a twist in the middle of them.  In other words, the fabric between the legs had been twisted before it was sewn together.  Apparently, some guy on the assembly line was having a bad day and decided to share it with some innocent schmo.  Enter my dad.

To my dad's credit, he didn't just throw them away.  He decided to give them a chance.  After he spent the entire day, pulling a wedge out of his...well, you know, he decided to throw them out.  Not being one to throw skid-marked underwear in the trash, he decided to wash them first.  Unfortunately, he neglected to inform my stepmother of the plan, and she washed them and put them back in his drawer.  After the second day of pulling a wedge out of his...well, you know, he asked my stepmother to take them apart, untwist them, and sew them back together.  He figured that was safer than risking another day with a twist!

The Dangers of Handcuffs

Being as my father worked for the police department for 20-some years, it was not uncommon to have spare handcuffs around the house.  As a kid, I used to love to "play" policeman.  I'd handcuff everything.  This was all well and good until I handcuffed my grandmother behind the stove.  She had climbed back there to clean something and "snick" I handcuffed her to it.  Needless to say, I was in no hurry to release her after she told me what she'd do to me once I had.

But I think the real low point with the handcuffs came on the day when I managed to handcuff my wrist to my ankle.  (That's right, I did it!  You want some of this?!)  Anyway, I have no idea why I did it, but I'm sure it seemed like a good idea at the time.  What made matters worse was that I had lost the key.  Add to it that my father had the spare key, and he couldn't leave work.  So, barring leaving me incapacitated for hours until he got home, he did the next best thing.  He called the local police and asked them to send a squad car by the house.

Now, it wasn't my best moment to be laying on the floor by the front door, twisted like a pretzel, with my arm handcuffed to my ankle, in nothing but my underwear and no way to put clothes on (Oh, did I conveniently leave that part out?), and have the police show up to release me.  They managed the rescue in seconds, but I'm sure the story lived on for years at the station.  Maybe one of the officers will read this blog and have a good laugh recollecting the incident.

The Brown Coats

For Christmas the first three years of my marriage, my mother-in-law bought me a new brown coat.  Just brown...no other color.  Each coat was really nice, different and unique from the year before.  But imagine that I lived in Texas at the time where the need for coats is minimal.  I didn't exactly wear a coat out in the season.

On the fourth year, I asked for a different color just to jazz things up a little...maybe black or navy blue.  She quickly got the hint, and a family joke was started.  Every year, she threatened to send me a coat, while really sending me sweaters or such.

Last year, my brother-in-law got me a brown scarf for Christmas.  When I called to tell him how much I liked it, he told me he picked brown because he knew I already had a collection of brown coats.

Back-Fire

When I first got married, I didn't really do anything around the house.  If I wanted to do something special for my wife, then I'd surprise her by unloading the dishwasher before she got home.  For the first few times, she was very appreciative, and I was encouraged to do it again.  After a while, though, unloading the dishwasher just became my job.  I had to up my game.  So, I dusted for her one day.  She was ecstatic.  I was back!  After a few more dusts; however, dusting just became another of my jobs.  I went through laundry, trash, vacuuming, bathrooms...all with the same result.  Now, I have a whole list of "jobs" and no way to impress my wife.

I noticed we have entered an alternate reality, though, because now my wife comes home, plops herself on the couch to watch TV, and asks what's for dinner.  I see myself when I first got married, and I wonder how one little nice gesture back-fired on me.