Jen and I just watched Jurassic Park. It absolutely still holds up. Great flick.
I wonder why they never made a sequel (cough cough). You’d have thunk they could have cashed in big time if they had ever made a sequel (cough cough). They could have turned it into a franchise or something (cough cough).
I was sitting at my desk a few minutes ago, looking at the Covid-19 numbers for the day (they were bad. Very bad). Patches decided to jump up onto the desk and say hello. Her aim was a little off and one leg missed. It slipped off the desk and onto my leg. Her claws were out. She got me. No broken skin, but ouch.
The other day she got Jen on the shoulder when Jen tried to pick her up (she acts like she HATES being picked up, but she always purrs like crazy when Jen does it. I think she’s just playing hard to get and secretly loves being picked up).
We don’t have to worry about turning into some shitty 70’s rock song, do we?
#sarcasm is a given, okay?
Jen and I were just talking about antivaxxers. I told her that by not being an antivaxxer herself, she has given me everything I need to make me happy. What a perfect gift, am I right?
We then started wondering if Miss Patches the Kitty was an antivaxxer. It tough to say. I caught her listening to the Joe Rogan podcast. He said he wasn’t anti vaccine once but it’s kind of a red flag. I’ve also caught her on YouTube a couple of times and she quickly clicks off before I can see what she’s looking at.
I don’t know… lots of red flags.
I just used the iPad’s multitask function for the first time. I was taking notes on songs I might want to re-record. Chrome was open on the left half of my screen, playing tracks from alonetone.com, while Trello was open on the right so I could add a comment to each song’s card.
It was so cool it literally changed my life.*
I’m back to my parents place for the night and it’s awesome. It’s a total blast. I have no residual emotional stress relating to spending nights in the house where I was so depressed that my best friend once told me he was worried I was going to do something to hurt myself. Nope, I feel great now. Just wonderful.
Obviously those fears were unjustified, but there were times when I was worried about the same thing. All of that was in this house. Yup, I love it here. Just love being here. Sure, the day I moved out ranks in the top five happiest days of my life*, but that doesn’t mean that staying here again isn’t the most awesome, awesome thing I could do.
Being here is the best.
*Off the top of my head, could my short list of happiest moments be?…
1. Our wedding.
2. Jen saying yes when I proposed.
3. Falling for Jen.
4. Meeting the kids.
5. Moving in with Jen and the kids.
6. Buying and moving into a house of our own.
7. Harry being his old self again after a couple of days worth of near unconsciousness in the PICU.
8 & 9 (tied). Bellana and Harry graduating from high school.
10. Raising the double freedom rockets and giving a hearty fuck you to the previous 33 years of failure and misery in my life and finally graduating from college.
Like I said, that’s just off the top of my head. If I really sat down and examined my emotional state during all of these experiences, number 7 would likely jump a lot higher on that list. Possibly because the events leading up to that wonderful moment are hands down, no question number one on the list of the worst moments of my life. Like, no contest. As bad as things are now and as bad as all the bad things that have happened to me and to those I care about throughout the last 50 years, nothing comes close to being as terrifying and horrible as Harry’s time in the hospital during the first days of diabetes. That first time he got himself up out of the hospital bed and sat up in a chair and talked to us as if nothing happened… fuck me, that was a glorious moment. That was bliss. I will treasure that particular happy moment forever.
Well, this morning one of our smoke detectors started giving the low battery squawk. We needed a tried and true handy man to track it down, take it off the ceiling, change the batteries, and put it back on the ceiling. We needed a hero. Fortunately that hero was available and came through for us. That hero… was me.
Yes, Robert is so tall that when the low battery squawk starts his head is close enough to the ceiling that he can both track down the ailing unit and reach up to unscrew it from its perch. Yes, his skills are virtually endless. The biggest challenge though was getting the dying batteries out of the damm thing. Something about the model we have, they really stick those batteries in there good. I was, of course, able to prevail in that struggle, and all is well with our smoke detecting system once more.
Please, please, no applause. Just throw money.
Now if I could just figure out why my SleepWatch report from last night keeps disappearing (was it because my watch was on the charger?) and why I only managed an 8% sleeping heart rate dip last night. That is just not optimal! (On the report it labels 8% as “not optimal” so you see what I did there?)
I really need Covid to be over. Really.
I’ve been thinking about it. Sometimes Americans are able to do the right thing. Other times, not so much. Maybe if we bribe America they will not be stupid regarding this whole COVID-19 mess.
How about when it’s all over we all get a Les Paul. What do you say? Everyone gets a shiny new Les Paul. Some people have a weird thing about Gibson, so they can get a boutique copy that’s really sweet. Most of us though will get a perfect sounding, beautifully built 50’s spec Les Paul Standard. Of course, because this was my idea I’ll get an actual 1959 Les Paul Standard. A nice burst with a really good flame top that’s all faded to gold the way the good ones all did.
I think that’s a good plan.
Wow, was that ever disappointing. My morning commute only took an hour and a half, falling well short of the two hour average for the week so far. 90 measly minutes to go 46 miles. Talk about a let down. Well, maybe Friday’s commute will be two and a half hours and bring my average back up to two hours where it belongs.
This post contains 100% unfiltered, twice distilled sarcasm. If Friday’s commute tops two hours I might go postal.
My average morning commute this week is just over two hours. I am so excited to get out on the road today and see how much of my day will get pissed down the toilet while I cruise along at less than five miles per hour in the 65 miles per hour speed zone. I feel like I could break some sort of Land Slow Record or something. It’s going to be so great! I can’t wait!
This post has been brought to you by the letter Sarcasm.
Good morning, and welcome to a terrifying new world.
A world where my 12 year old step daughter…
Has a cell phone of her own!
This growing up thing is so scary. So very scary!
(insert giggle here)