Angry Cabbies

When I walked out to my bike tonight, it wouldn't start.

The battery ran out of juice because I was so freaking cold when I got to work this morning, I just stopped the bike, got off and went inside. I forgot to actually move the key to "Off" and to remove it from the ignition.

So I tried roll-starting it by myself and then my buddy Jim came out and helped. It was all to no avail. We were going to try to jump start it and it turns out I was lucky he didn't have jumper cables because I later found out that jump-starting the bike via car can fry the bike electronics.

Finally, after fucking with it for awhile, I decided to call a cab. I gave "Roys" a call and found out it was gonna cost me 46 bucks to get home. So I went ahead and booked it and then proceed to wait for the "15, 20 no... 25 minutes" that the dispatcher told me it would take for the cabbie to get there.

About 35 minutes later I get a call from the cabbie who is on the completely wrong side of the complex of buildings where I work. At that same moment, one of my coleagues (colleagues? coleegs? colleegs? kolleags? Fuck it) comes out of the building and offers me a ride.

Let's see... 46 bucks and a lost cabby or female colleague? WHICH WOULD YOU PICK?

Just as I was getting into R's car, the cabby calls me back and tells me she's found the building. So that's when I told her I was already in a car and on my way.

"Hey, I really apprceciate you coming out here, but I actually found a ride..."

"Yeah? I bet you aren't appreciative enough to come back here and give me a little money for the effort..." She sounded... what... pissed off?

"Yeahhhh.. ummm... nooooo.... you're right.. I'm not that appreciative..."

"Well I guess that makes you an asshole now doesn't it?"

"Yeah... I hear that alot... I sure hope I'm able to sleep tonight. Have a nice one"

So that's my story and I'm sticking to it!

Sexy Bloggers

I've decided to add a new list of blogs... Sexy Bloggers. The first entry is er..uh...umm....

Susu (from Virginia) is a sexy blogger. I thought about sex when I saw her picture.

I'm also adding solitaire redux as presented by KJ. She's from Canada. There's not much to be done about that, but I thought of sex when I saw her blog and that's good enough for the list!

So Welcome susu and KJ!

People who use paper towels...

...to open the bathroom door as they leave a public restroom are funny to me. I guess I just don't get it. After all, don't you think that guy who didn't wash his hands after he got done wiping might just run right on over to the printer and run his feces-covered digits all over it? And what about those towells? They live in the bathroom! Those towel holders are not at all air tight. I'm sure fecal matter makes it's way in there and settles on the surface of the paper. I'm sure many of you who suffer from this affliction don't hesitate to put your mouth upon your lover's genitals.

Or maybe you don't.

My suggestion is for all you obsessive-compulsive anal-retentive bed-wetters out there to just relax and open the bathroom door. Just... Relax... That's right... just calm down... there you go... nice... see? Isn't that nice?

So much better than thinking about how dirty everything is... Let's think nice clean thoughts instead... Let's not think about that smelly bastard who just walked out of the stall (w/that funny bad-wipe walk) and went straight for the door... Let's not think about how he just used that hand to apply a wad of toilet tissue to his anus and then put that same hand on the door handle and walked out without even so much as a thought about your welfare. Let's not think about the germs... the diseases...

Let's not think about the teeming masses of humanity who settle in their own squalor and barely keep their bug-infested heads above the putrid waters of their chaotic...

[pause]

Sorry... I had to puke.

All I'm saying is that I'm not sure you are really doing yourself any favors by using the towels to open the bathroom door.

But hey.. if it helps you sleep better at night...

Bush

I voted for him the first time. I did it because Tina was intent upon voting for Gore and I just couldn't picture such a thing. Also, we had a cool bet that I can't, really tell you about. Suffice to say, I won and was very pleased w/the result.

I think Bush did a pretty good job when the towers fell. Yeah yeah yeah.. he sat on his ass for a few minutes and then hopped on his plane and flew around for a few hours, but I was much more concerned about the response we would give as a country assuming we knew what was up. Unlike some, Bush's tears moved me and gave me pause to reflect upon the humanity of our leader. I admired Cheney for his stoic demeanor post 9/11 as he calmly explained that the U.S. government would not hesitate to blow an airliner out of the sky in future circumstances similar to 9/11.

I fully supported our invasion of Afghanistan. I must admit that I bought into the hype regarding the almost mythical constitution of the Jihadi fighters and thus figured it would be much more difficult than it was to knock the Taliban out of their turbans.

I also supported our invasion of Iraq, based on what Mr. Powell had to say about WMD. I shallowly looked up to him and Condoleezza Rice primarily for their obvious intelligence and in no small measure, upon the color of their skin and the fact that they occupied some of the most powerful stations in our country's government.

My feelings about our Administration have changed as I have watched them botch the post-invasion management of Iraq, as the facts about the manipulation of the spotty intelligence have come to light and as I have watched them turn away from the original reasons they gave us for sending our troops to war.

I have no confidence in the Adminstration's ability to manage the complexities associated with the Middle East, Korea, and our economy.

Bush's alignment with the far right and his stance on various social issues has turned me off. It's funny how I didn't hear very much about his reborn Christianity during the first election. Oh that's right.... I wasn't paying attention... I was too busy hoping I'd win that bet with Tina.

However, above and beyond everything else, there is this fact: I'm no longer convinced that Bush is really the President. I think Cheney is, and I didn't vote for him to be our President. If you want an interesting read, check out "Dick, the Man Who is President." It's got some pretty interesting information in it.

So there you have it. I don't like Bush anymore. I didn't vote for him this time and I will refuse to vote for a third term for the Republican party in 2008.

That does not change my feelings about Canada. I fully support any plans the current Administration may have to invade this Nefarious Neihbor of the North and will gladly volunteer my own children to that worthy cause.

Hiccups

Tonight, my little girl had a hard time getting to sleep. She had the hiccups and was worried she'd die in her sleep from them.

She's always had questions about death, but she's been more preoccupied than ever since the beginning of the school year. You see, at the top of the stairwell in her school there is a photograph of a bright-eyed little boy and a plaque commemorating his life (and death). she is in class with his sister and like I said, she's had death on her mind.

Tonight I was irritated with it. How am I supposed to know what to say to her questions? How do I know what will happen? I kept telling her to be quiet; that she was fine and that it was time for her to sleep, but she only got more worked up, and after a bit I went into her room and laid down next to her.

"I can't get these hiccups out of me", she said as she cried and then asked me again if she would die. I kissed her on the forehead and stroked her hair. I pulled the covers up around her and whispered,

"You're fine little one... everyone gets the hiccups... even mommy and daddy get them... No one's ever died from the hiccups." She calmed down immediately and was almost instantly asleep. I looked at her little body... her tiny shoulders rising up and down to the rhythm of her even breath. I looked at her sweet little arm and at her hand clutching two of my fingers. I tried to picture a world without her. I wondered how I'd ever...

... get through 3 endless days of mind-fucking corporate training. It's the kind of thing where you sit there and listen to a guy who get's paid 100k a year to basically read from a book of powerpoint slides.

Today we actually lucked out. This guy doesn't seem all that bad and may have actually had some experience in the area we are there to learn about.

I ended up going to lunch with the people sitting at the same table as me in class. This included a colleague (we'll call her "J" for now) and 2 other folks I don't know at all. I won't give them initials because I don't remember their names. One was a man and one was a woman.

While we were at lunch, we were talking about this and that. Finally, the discussion rolled around to our kids. I was talking about how my little girl is learning to tie her shoes and how mad she got when I finally tied one of them for her.

The man from our table laughed and said, "It doesn't get different for a long long time! I raised up two girls myself and I can tell you it doesn't get different for a long time." Then "J" asked him how old his daughters were now and about what they did for a living.

Right at that moment, I KNEW one of them had died. I knew it. I knew it without hearing anything. I don't know if it was in a look that he gave... or in the way he paused for just that brief moment... but I knew.

He went on to tell us how his oldest daughter was finishing up school and had recently gotten married. Then he told us about her husband, who is a Marine, and was recently shot in Iraq and who will be returning home soon.

"J" said, "Wow.. .that's alot for a new wife to have to deal with" and he replied,

"Yeah... well actually she's had it really tough the last couple of years as it is. We lost our youngest two years ago and she hasn't done well with that at all."

I knew it. I fucking knew it. How the fuck I knew it, I don't fucking know... but I fucking knew it.

And of couse, everyone was like, "Oh I'm so sorry..." and "Wow... that's so terrible..." I said, "That must have been earth-shattering." Luckily, I was able to apply what little filter I have and not say anything more.

Then I sat there for a moment and wondered if, under similar circumstances, I'd ...

... be able to keep on living.

Little one, the best I can do is tell you everything is fine; that you are healthy and that everyone gets the hiccups. I can kiss you on the forehead and stroke your hair. I can pull the covers up around you to make sure you stay warm. I can wait here with you, until your eyes close, your breath becomes even and you fall asleep,

and hope I'll never know.