Oh Hell
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Just Bitchin'

OK, last night I got permission to go to the gym. Yes, I'm married and you have to do that. So I go. When I get back she's talking away and I'm trying to listen. But when I get in the shower, at some point while she's got her head stuck in the shower talking to me she decides to get mad. I'm guessing it was the lack of eye contact thing. She agreed that I could take a shower while she talked to me, but if I break eye contact, even when its because I have shampoo in my eyes, there's trouble. So for the rest of the night she's mad. At 11 p.m. when I need to go to sleep it finally starts. And it keeps going until after 1 a.m. Yes, I was needing to get to work early tomorrow, but now I'm going to be real tired.

Next morning, I am getting ready for work when I get cornered in the bathroom. A little more discussion about last night. Yes, I understand you are stressed and I love you. This goes on just long enough to keep me until I'm going to be late instead of early.

Late to work.

The boss is in a real bad mood. Things are going badly with his promotion and he's really pissed. He half-jokingly says he's going to fire my ass if I don't quit coming in late.

My coworker has decided that suddenly my project is important to him and he begins tasking me to do all kinds of crap. I'm already doing the crap. He needs to be tasked with this. He even tries to call a meeting with me between my other meetings. Oh, speaking of meetings ...

I have more meetings today than I can go to. I called half of them. For two of them the only person I really need to talk to is out of town. I'm doing Change Management for her right now and she's gone. Oh, and her signature is required on the forms, too. The load is tonight.

During lunch the waiter is a slow mother-f*cker. The boss is letting off steam, my coworker is trying to figure out which bathroom he just peed in because the outside of the door says 'MEN' but the inside says 'WOMEN', and the waiter can't even refill my water glass. How hard is that? So I have to get up and walk over to where they get the drinks and fill it myself because he's lost in space somewhere and forgot to come back with my damned water. His boss happens by and says, "Oh, I could have gotten that for you." No you couldn't. I'm not sitting at your table. I'm sitting at dumbass' table and he's gone. I smile and say nothing. The four of us, so impressed with his service are we, pool our funds to tip him $1.

Back to work in my boss' Lexus with a flat tire. He's so mad he's not even going to pump up the tire. Me, I'm just very tired.

So here I am trying to do paperwork for the project from a meeting yesterday before I can start on paperwork from the meeting today and I just found out that the sh!theads who crashed our system and caused me to be here for 3 days last time are planning to do it again tonight. So we are going to have to be here to shut the thing down before they crash it. That, of course, means that I won't be home for my wife to let off steam at. That means the steam will be building up all night until I get home. Already she's had a bad start to her day, with a job interview for a job she doesn't really want and she doesn't feel as if she did well in the interview anyway.

My phone is ringing. Whatever it is, I don't want to know.

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Lisa and Donnie jamming at The Corner June 12 2004 Posted by Hello
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The Corner - June 12, 2004

I went to Rocketown to see Lisa Graf play at The Corner. I sat right next to the stage, drank beer, and was as obnoxious as possible. Lisa said she was glad to see me.

Who was there? I'm so glad you asked.

Me: the person whose blog you are reading
My wife: the woman I am married to.
Bryant Malone: (aka Goofy/Goof, nicknamed by John Krysminski, 1982) - now engaged to Lisa.
Bryant's hot blonde sister, Carole: Class of '82.
Jim Farrell: Seattle Seahawk, dating Hot Blonde Carole. Didn't he used to have a 1967 Chevelle with a killer 454?
Richard Liminowski: Lisa yelled at him through the microphone, but he ignored us all.
Pam Breckenridge: fairly loud (but not drunk) and damned proud of it.
Pam's friend Diane: also fairly loud and encourging Pam to cause a lot of trouble. In fact, Pam says it's all Diane's fault that she did the things she did.
Laura Lockhart: came over and said 'Hi.'
Eric Schultz: now married to Laura Lockhart.
Eric Doehrman: with his head recently shaved to match Bryant Malone's new shave job. They put their heads together and Eric said "its a perfect pair of tits." No nipples, though.
Anna Ingegneri: Waited our table, fired off jokes to keep up with Pam and Diane as often as possible. Very funny.
Tan Man: the perpetually tanned guy with a small perm, sunglasses perched on his frizzy head, orange shorts, and no underwear. He sat up high so the women could examine him for testicular cancer. After many, many loudly rude and crude remarks from Pam and Diane he became discouraged and left (Pam is so mean.)
Old man in plaid jacket: comes every Saturday night, sits alone, drinks wine. I think we irritated him. Sorry.
Donnie: Lisa's musical partner. Funny guy.
Donnie's Hot Young Girlfriend: is she 21 yet? Very pretty.
Donnie's Hot young Girlfriend's Group of Hot Young Girlfriends: There was an army of them, but they left after a short stay. Just came to check out her man, apparently.
Bunch of People At Bar: Too far away to meet or even really comment on. No wait, there is one I will comment on.
Really, Really Drunk, Spikey Haired Bleached Blonde Chick: (There is a rumor that this was Amy Grammar, class of '87 or '88, nicknamed 'Bendover' as a freshman for reasons less interesting than it sounds) She started drinking late. She had a friend with her. They glared at Pam Breckenridge, who was yelling "WHOOOOO" a lot. Then she apparently felt compelled to catch up with and surpass Pam in alcohol consumption, inhaling entire bottles of beer without breathing once. Lots of high fives between her and the girl with her. Soon she was running around like a lunatic, trying to get guys to dance. She danced a short time with the guy who sat next to Mr. "Will You Play Some Neil Diamond" up at the bar. He was drunk enough to have that squinty-eyed, barely can see face and to dance in a place with no dancing. After dancing with him, she sat on Bryant Malone and tried to persuade him to dance with her. He did not want to dance and very carefully expressed this in the way that you do when someone you still want to be friends with tommorrow is really drunk and obnoxious tonight. Then she sort of wandered off back towards the bar, disappearing into the sea of squinty-eyed heavily intoxicated 2 a.m. Last Call people. The smoke in the air made it hard to see where she ended up. Perhaps on the floor? Anyway, she appeared to be having fun.
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Cranberry Juice - Part II

Did I say I was drinking cranberry juice because of a bladder infection? Silly me. I don't have a bladder infection. I have a kidney stone.


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Whatever Can Go Wrong part 4 - The Man with a Thousand Names

36 hours and no sleep. We were getting fuzzy in the head. We had been handed off to a guy in Bangalore by the vendor. His name is Avinash, or so I'm told. Somehow, between the lack of sleep and the rarity of this name we could not seem to remember it to save our lives. So the following is a list, in as close to the original order as possible, of our many attempts at remembering his name correctly:

Acronymn, Abercrombie, Aquafina, Antarctica, Argentina, Ashcroft, Assmaster, Asminov (we thought he might be Russian for a moment), Aardvark, Asparagus, Asswipe, Alice, Asquatch, Amethyst, AntiChrist, Ananova, Anus, Aspercream, Aber, Anaconda, Antaquanta, Asphyncter, Ankleweight, Anorreah, Avalanche, Avenue, Acknom, Antelope, Artichoke, Antifreeze, Applicider, Arhive Agent, Anaheim, Alimony, Alabama, Applesauce

In Asminov's defense, he was as professional as he could be and we never said these names directly to him. It was more in the context of, "Get ... what's his name again ... Alice .. get Alice on the phone. This isn't working."

In our own defense, we were still calling each other 'bitch' and high on coffee and no sleep, so anything that could keep us going was worthwhile.
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Whatever Can Go Wrong
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Whatever Can Go Wrong part 3 - I'm In Hell

OK, I thought things were as bad as they could get. I was wrong.

It's Friday morning and I've been here since 8:30 a.m. Thursday. The system is still down and Asminov in India is trying to run a script to copy some tables into our database before we can try to restart the system. We're all falling asleep and calling each other 'bitch' just to pass the time. Yes, bitch. The Unix guys call everyone 'dude' and we thought that was lame. So 'bitch' it is. You got a problem with that, bitch?

I'm so sick of cell phones and pagers. And cold pizza. And sleeping on the floor in my clothes with a carpet that has no padding and smells like feet.

Oh, and lousy coffee. I'm really sick of lousy coffee.

My second wind is winding down, I can feel it. Pretty soon I'm going to hit that cranky phase where I call people 'bitch' and really mean it.

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Kathleen Parker
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I just read a fantastic article by Kathleen Parker . It was so good it inspired me to email her and say, "I love you. You are awesome."

How do you say something like this in a mature and professional way and still convey the same meaning? "Awesome" sounds so '80s high school.

Oh well, at least I didn't say "you rock!" THAT would be lame.

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Whatever Can Go Wrong and Didn't Before

I already complained about all the things going wrong, but little did I know how bad it could get.

Yesterday the system was going flaky, never fully recovered from this weekend. Then my VP drafted me to do some work on his computer. I had the opportunity to work closely with him for once. And as a bonus, he was in a really bad mood. Last night a thunderstorm zapped us, sending our database off to Oz with some flying monkeys. Now the whole system is coming down, with a little help from me to make the crash smoother.

My boss is on his cell phone questioning me from the car as he drives back here from Birmingham. Everyone in the company is calling me one by one to tell me that something is wrong and ask when it will be made right again. Somewhere in New York that headhunting, witch-trial, Martha-Stewart-killing, NYSE-indicting prosecutor, Mr. Spitzer, is probably trying to think up some excuse to charge me with insider trading just for laughs. I'm flying high on stress - no need for bad office coffee, thank you. They've cancelled Friends and tonight is nothing but reruns, as if I'm expecting to get to go home before midnight anyway (I'm not.) The paperboy keeps throwing my Wall Street Journal underneath my truck each morning so that I start my day by crawling on my hands and knees in the filth. And I need to poop. Yeah, real bad.

No time to poop, though. Got a system emergency on my hands here and all the VPs are on a conference call which probably should include me, but hasn't as they are the only people in the entire company to not have called me yet.

Hold on, the phone is ringing.
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Whatever Can Go Wrong Will Go Wrong

Friday at work I was spending the usual hours copying tons of test data to the tmp directory of an important server. Right in the middle of this a major system went down and I had to spend a few hours wrestling it back into submission. Then I finished gathering the test data and went home, glad to finally escape for a 3 day weekend.

First thing Saturday morning I am awakened by one of my pagers going off. I called the number and was told that an application was crashing. While I was on the phone my other pager went off.

Yes, I have 2. Aren't I lucky?

It was another call about the same thing. Several hours later the problem was resolved. So I got to spend the rest of my weekend flooring the attic and climbing to the top of an oak tree to pull the broken tree top down.

Monday night my wife began stressing over her job search and decided to rip into me about it. So I was up late being shredded.

This was followed by a full Tuesday of system problems at work and me being the only person in the office today to deal with the avalanche.

Now the day is ending. Do I want to go home for a possible repeat of last night or do I want to stay here and risk more computer nightmares? Maybe I should stop off somewhere and have a drink for about 6 hours.

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