Post 30, Not My Best Day

Sitting here drinking beer and reflecting on my day. A Little Sumpin’ Wild from Lagunitas, it’s number 2, and maybe it’s a good descriptor of the day, but mostly probably not. The Little Sumpin’ Sumpin’ would probably be more accurate, but I don’t have a 6-pack of that.

It wasn’t my best day. It wasn’t my worst. I think there was a battle I’m not sure I intended to start, and I’m not sure if I won or lost or if there was no battle at all. I wish there wasn’t a battle. I hope there wasn’t a battle. This is work stuff. It’s professional. I’m just trying to do my job. But sometimes I can be brash or too direct and I still have ample to learn. I often think of a line, it’s just a brief portion of a line, and it’s from a song by Brother Ali: “I’m not arrogant—oh shit, well yeah, I’m arrogant.” (When the Beat Comes In. I highly recommend Brother Ali.)

I just put on my favorite sleepy-time album: Everything is One by Pete Francis and Craig Dreyer. I think it’s Craig. Francis/Dreyer: that I know. And I listened to this album nightly when I was in Costa Rica for 10 days by myself several years back and it still holds such a place in my heart, and I still wind down to it often. I’m probably listening to this more often than not when I’m writing these entries. Tonight I really feel uncertain…about what, I’m not certain. I’m just not in a place I feel comfortable. It’ll pass, I’m reasonably confident. Tomorrow is a new day. But given all the drama and the fact it’s so off-topic from the “why” of this blog and it’s nothing anyone wants or really needs to hear about, most likely, I should just move on.

Liam had a rough night last night, unlike any we’ve known. He’d fallen asleep, then woke up around 10:00 screaming and crying and I tried to console him and he wouldn’t calm down and Angie tried to console him and the usual mommy magic wasn’t working and he cried and screamed and wailed longer than we’ve ever known him to do. Thirty minutes, forty, an hour…calmed down…then a repeat. It was hard on all of us, but ultimately he slept on Angie in our bed and we got rest, although it maybe wasn’t the best rest, especially since it didn’t really start until after midnight.

I actually woke up in a good mood, a bit before seven, and I’d done most of my garden stuff last night, including watering, so I just browsed a bit then came in and got in the shower and went to Bella Bru and got a lemon poppy seed (how often I type poopy seed, then have to correct it…) and large mocha. I got to work in good spirits and set out to do good work. At this point, my office chair has been completely replaced by my exercise ball, and I sit and bounce and sometimes just balance with my feet off the floor. I started with music but was really trying to concentrate so I turned it off. I researched. I built a case. I presented it wrong, and I learned some lessons. See Brother Ali quote above.

I’m still analyzing it all. I’m still thinking. Planning. Confident…then regretful…then okay. My vagueness about these things is likely annoying, and I’m still off-track from the “why” of the blog.

Okay, I was at the office and on the ball. There were highs and lows and OH MY GOD’s. There was also a banana and an apple and lots of almonds, but no sammich today. I stayed later than normal, risking a total schedule fuckup for Liam, which did come to fruition. But I had things to work out. Interactions. Apologies. Progressions. I think something positive came out of the day…maybe more than one thing…but I need more time to assess that.

At one point I took out my angers on some pushups, 20 or so, feet up on the ball. I got around to picking Liam up at 2:00, and he was asleep, but he woke up and didn’t go back to sleep but was tired for a while, and all of that was fine. Documents to review, documents to write, interviews set up. Believe it or not, these things all got done. I worked a bit late to ensure it.

I made myself stop working around 5:30 or so and dressed for a run. I pushed Liam in the stroller and took Elba along with us and actually timed myself, and I’m not adding the Forerunner map because I’m just not motivated to, but the first mile was at a 7-minute pace and the only limiting factor was Elba, which is fine, and we finished 3.5 miles with an average 7:30 pace. I think my knee is mostly okay, though I’m not positive, and I sorta wanna ice it just because, but I try to think it’s okay and it will be okay. I was glad to get a good run in.

When we got back from the run, Angie still wasn’t home (she was at the gym) and I decided to strap the helmet on Liam and give the Strider Bike a try again, and he was all over it this time. We went up and down a side street and he just walked along with the bike between his legs (that’s the point right now) and was realizing he can steer a bit and a few times I picked his feet up and sat him on the seat and pushed him along and he was squealing in delight and it was really pretty wonderful. These things make work irrelevant; they make work go away. These moments are the reasons we’re here, I think. Sure, work allows these things—I get that. It doesn’t change the fact. Or my opinion, at least.

We worked out way to the backyard and Angie came home and was pleased to see Liam on his bike and he pushed it around the backyard a bit and I picked some tomatoes. There were tacos to be made and dog food to be purchased and I gave Angie the choice, so she stayed home to spend time with Liam and I went to get our expensive dog food and bought some cat food, too. (Stupid cats. Hey, why don’t you puke, poop, and/or pee in various places around the house? What’s your value, again? Oh, you’re cats. Okay.)

I just switched to a glass of wine. I had beer with dinner and the beginning of this blog. I had 4 beef tacos on hard shells with onions and lettuce and cheese and taco sauce, and I had one on a soft shell. I was hungry. I haven’t been eating much dessert lately.

Atypical. I keep saying this blog, so far, is an atypical snapshot of my life and I won’t explain it, but it’s true. Diet- and exercise-wise it is not, but in other ways it is. Mood-wise it is. Dessert-wise it is.

We watched some Bachelor Pad. I read Shel to Liam. I love reading Shel to Liam. I really do. It’s something I cherish each night. He hadn’t napped much and he went to sleep pretty easily. I’m sitting here, reflecting. I’m indifferent about the day, all in all, with a slight lean toward pessimism. Learning is good, though, even if it’s learning from struggle. Maybe that’s the best learning. It reminds me of another blog entry I could write, but then I seem to be having a hard time finding time. Time time time. It’s so important and so limited…and also so arbitrary.

For now, though, I have good things in front of me. I have wife-time in front of me. I love my wife. I love special time with my wife, and I’m gonna go enjoy some of that. I finished Less Than Zero last night. I liked it. I won’t remember what it’s about but, as usual, I’ll remember Ellis’ style. I love his style. He’s a talented writer.

So good night, Mr. Ellis. Sometimes you come through too much in my writing and I acknowledge that, which isn’t to say I’m anywhere near as talented, only that I feel sometimes I grasp on to the rhythms and the runons. Maybe even that’s a misinterpretation of self. Regardless, I wish you a good night. And since most of you who read this probably don’t read it at night, to you I say good day. 

Two for One, With a Choice String of Expletives

Where was I? Where am I? Why am I here?

Oh shit balls fuckstick hell nuts and butter.

Yeah.

It’s Monday night and it’s 9:13 and I’m sleepy. I skipped Sunday, which was a good day, and I was thinking about y’all; about this blog.

I had a great weekend. Sunday started off just swell with some time in the garden and then me frying some bacon, which I put on double fiber bread and allowed to share some stomach space with some instant oats and flax and a pint of OJ.

Waiting so long to chronicle the past day results in loss of detail, which results in faster reading, especially since today is Monday, which is a long, boring, frustrating day at the office. I’m digressing.

I didn’t really eat much in the way of a formal lunch yesterday.

Wait, I’m starting to have memories. The wife and I were feeling lazy yesterday morning, and lazy Sundays aren’t a bad thing, but we had to get ourselves moving so we went to the farmers’ market. We bought marketries. Some of these marketries included white peaches. I don’t eat peaches, but these aren’t bad, and I intend to eat one.

Lunch: I really didn’t eat much of one. I grazed. Nanners, apples, almonds…I don’t much remember. I remember going for a bike ride and still taking it easy because of the knee, and in the interest of taking it easy I’m not timing myself and I don’t know how far I rode. What I do know is I ended up at my favorite plant nursery because I was gonna buy a thing or two, but I rode up to see a “Going Out of Business SALE!” sign and I almost cried. Sersly. I let out audible NOs as I rode up, and it was an odd situation with so many plants gone and so many regulars and workers so sad to have the place closing. I was just there three weeks ago and everything seemed fine. Damn.

I’m still tired. I’m wondering if I’ll get to today. I may super-summarize.

Anyway, I bought some plants. I came home on my bike and went back in our truck and I bought some things, but pickin’s  were already slim so it’s not like I could rake in the natives or bring home lots of fruit trees—I got some lavender and a couple mimulus (monkey flowers) and some sort of grass that I forget the name of and a goji berry plant that needs some care and was expensive, but it was my one big gamble of the outing.

I got home again and went to Whole Foods for the week’s groceries. Then we made dinner, a tag-team affair, and it was badass. Cheeseburgers on the grill: bits of basil, oregano, green onion, and tomato (all from the garden) mixed into the beef with some soy sauce and fresh-ground pepper in there, too. I topped ‘em with swiss cheese. I harvest some miniature and reasonably normal-sized corn and grilled that, too. We deep-fried some red ‘taters, and Angie breaded and baked some zucchini she had cut into sticks and they turned out to be quite tasty as well. The burgers were put on whole wheat buns (lightly toasted on the insides), and I put ketchup and stone-ground mustard on mine. It was all delightful, and it looked like this.

The zook "fries" are right in front of the burger, to the left of the normal fries. Yes, I did eat both ears of corn. Andthe stein you see there is full of Stone’s 15^th Anniversary Ale: that Imperial Black IPA--that kick in the palate. That masterpiece of craft brewing. The write-up on the bottle is worth sharing, but it’s probably in my recycling already and I’m too tired to deal with it. It’s long, but it’s brilliant and not just about beer. It’s damn-near inspiring. Beer.

The night ended in the usual way, and I surely drank a bit of wine and might have even read. I’m still not through the relatively short book I’ve been reading, but I’m close.

Then there was today, which started in the usual way: Liam, garden, shower, off to work. My good weekend mood came crashing down—no, it was more like being enveloped by a cloud of not-such-a-good-mood—as I drove onto the former Air Force base and headed into the office.

I was out of my chocolate so I just made a latte, and I ate my two packs of instant oatmeal and too many almonds and bounced on my ball (which I added some air to [it’s a GIANT ball, by the way]) and I worked. I snacked. I ate more almonds and a banana. I had PB&J for lunch with some BBQ chips. I kept wanting to get away from my desk but mostly failed until finishing a document review which had sent me into research radioactivity surveys. THAT I actually enjoyed. I like learning. I ended up sitting and discussing some things with my boss for a bit and that was pretty good, too.

~~I confess I’m checking my work email right now. And I have work emails. And I’m reviewing something. I sorta hate myself for it, so I’m gonna go close it and get back to this. Work can wait ‘til tomorrow.~~

Long work day, anyway, and I left the office after 5:00 and headed to the gym where I used the cardio machines no one knows the names for. I spent 15 minutes on the thing that’s like an elliptical machine except you can vary the incline and there is nothing to do with your hands. I spent 10 more minutes on this thing that’s like a recumbent bike except you CAN use your hands (like an elliptical machine) and you can “supercharge” the workout by having these periods where you just use your arms or your legs and the resistance jumps up and it’s a good workout, I guess. I think it’s called Octane something-or-other. I wrapped it up with a superset of some pullups and pushups. The pushups were variations with my feet on a ball or a bench and my hands on a bosu ball or the regular ball. I’m ripped.

I came home and, short story shorter, we declared a Whole Foods night and went there to buy pre-made dinners. I made myself a salad with spinach, romaine, carrots, beets, onions, broccoli, cheese, and Italian dressing (the croutons and dressing and some of the cheese I added at home), and I also ordered (from the cold section) some fried chicken breast tenders (3 for me, 1 for Liam) and garlic pasta (which isn’t whole wheat and always has some useless green stuff in it, which I have yet to figure out [although the ingredient card would surely tell me]). We came home. We ate. The night ended in the usual way.

Oh, as a surprise and break from routine, I had wine with my dinner (a bit of carmenere), and I’m drinking a glass of…barbera now, I think. I’m tired. I want to read. I want to finish this book. I’m not sure I’ll make it.

So good night, book-finishing aspirations. You’ll probably still be there in the morning, so maybe I’ll force it tomorrow. I have some errands to run tomorrow. The dogs need food. I have work to do. I need a vacation. Oh shit balls fuckstick hell nuts and butter.

"Like, YAY! It's the Weekend!"

I’m not usually one to be all, “Like, YAY! It’s the weekend!” But I’m all, “Like, YAY! It’s the weekend!”

Saturday. It was Saturday yesterday and it ended with me tired so I’m once again back-blogged, but that’s okay—the few of you reading this don’t mind, I’m pretty sure.

I had a pretty full day yesterday, and it was a wonderful, fulfilling, and in many ways, relaxing day. The whole house woke up at the same time, which was probably a bit before 7:00am. I drank a pint of OJ while making some steel-cut oats for Liam and I—Angie ate cereal. As usual I sweetened the steel-cut oats with brown sugar because, although I CAN eat them unsweetened, I just prefer not to. I like sweets. That’s one of my motivations to exercise: so I can justify eating sweets. I made my French-pressed while making the oats, again the light-roasted Mexican beans, and I had two cups of that, black. I left Angie and Liam in the house while I went out to pick some beans in the garden, but was joined by the two of them shortly thereafter and Angie helped me with some harvesting. There were a couple tomatoes to be picked, and I know there’s some corn ready but I like to leave the corn until I’m actually gonna cook it because it’s sweeter and more nutritious that way.

~~All fruits and vegetables, of course, are more nutritious when they’re perfectly fresh. The minute you pick something it starts to die and the nutrients within begin to degrade. It’s not necessarily THAT fast, but it happens. And with corn, the sugars quickly begin to convert to starches after being picked (making the sweet corn less sweet), although newer hybrids have resulted in corn that stays sweeter longer. Anyway, this is why it’s not bad to eat frozen fruits and vegetables, although I still prefer them fresh, but grocery store “fresh” is generally going to be less nutrient-dense than frozen because the frozen things are frozen very soon after harvest and, according to most studies I’ve seen, lock the nutrients into the foods. I don’t know. I’m just relaying what I’ve read. Corn, for the record, is also supposed to be more nutritious when grilled versus boiling, although I’m not sure where steaming fits into that equation.~~

Saturday was a day for Liam and I around the house, because Angie left about 9:30am to head into San Fran for a bachelorette party—a trip I’m very glad to avoid. Not that I’d be invited to a bachelorette party, I just mean I hate going to San Francisco. I hate big cities, for the most part, especially one that rarely gets warm, is often covered in fog, and pretty much consistently smells like piss and shit. But people pay big money to live there. I really don’t get it. Keep your San Francisco. I’d rather live in L.A., probably, and I don’t like L.A., either. Ah well. I’m way off topic.

So Liam and I played in the back yard for a while, and the dogs fetched sticks, and it was a good time. We came inside because it was hot and I figured I could get a few things done inside, like straightening the kitchen a bit…doing some dishes…starting loads of laundry…and starting to fold some laundry that was already complete. I don’t really tend to sit down much, if I haven’t made that apparent, except when I’m working or otherwise typing at the computer (like now), or when I’m eating.

The only time we watch TV is when we’re eating (which may stop as Liam gets older because we like the concept of sitting down to a family meal to discuss the day), so it takes us a whole week to get through one episode of Bachelor Pad. That’s right: crap TV. I’d never claim I don’t love it while hating it. I’d never claim I don’t lose IQ points watching it. But that’s the only thing even on during the summer that we’re watching, so judge me. Occasionally we’ll watch an old episode of 30 Rock, because we started on that show way too late and it’s funny, and during the actual “good TV season,” we have some shows we record on the DVR, but we’ve found we just get further and further behind trying to keep up. TV just isn’t a priority in our household, but we’re also not those folks that shun TV. Moderation is important in all aspects of life, really. TV does have some things to offer, even if we miss most of the good things it has in those respects.

Liam banged his head a bit sometime after 10:00 and I was holding him in my arms and played some music videos on the internet with him there and was doing some typing and he fell asleep around 10:30, which was early for a nap, but I went to transfer him to the crib and he woke up, which I was happy about, so we went to Whole Foods to get some things ‘cause I really needed to do that.

We came home and I made us turkey sandwiches, mine with oven-roasted turkey (not peppered, this time), lettuce, swiss, and mustard on the usual double-fiber bread, and I had a craving for some BBQ chips so I’d bought those and had them with my sandwich. I also had a few almonds, ‘cause I bought more of those. I drank a couple o’ pints o’ water. I ate a zucchini muffin or two. (I was hungry.) Liam wasn’t much into what I was offering, except the pretzels (I won’t give him the chips because I know they aren’t great for a person and I’d rather keep him on a better track than me.) He did eat some apple sauce, though, and I’m pretty sure I got a whole sentence out of him when I put the apple sauce away: “I want more!” I’m not one to easily understand baby words or to designate random sounds to be words, so I’m pretty confident he actually said the whole sentence, which really surprised me, so I dished out some more apple sauce and he ate it. He also had zucchini muffin…s.

Liam went down for his nap around 1:00 and I was able to focus a bit more on the laundry, and I got our bed clothes changed and just took care of some miscellaneous things around the house, and I sat and read a bit. I haven’t been reading as much, largely because of the time I’m dedicating to writing this blog (which still puzzles me), and it’s taking me forever to get through such a short book, but I’m okay with that, ultimately.

Liam didn’t nap long—he was up again at 3:30, so I strapped a bike helmet on him and took him out for his first real experience on the strider bike. (It’s a bike with no peddles, intended for the young’uns, and the concept is they first learn to just walk over it and eventually learn they can coast a bit and then learn balance, all without training wheels, and then when they can balance you can throw ‘em on a regular little bike because learning to peddle is easy—it’s the balance that’s difficult.) I won’t try to claim it was some great success and he was real into it, but it was a bit of fun for me no less, and I did get short video clip of him doing essentially nothing on the bike, which I’ll throw in here because I haven’t posted any video clips in my blog yet. Plus it’s real cute to see a toddler in a bike helmet, if you ask me. He got distracted by a passing car.

We’d been invited to some friends’ house for dinner and were due there around 6:00 and I really wanted to get some exercise in, but with Angie gone and my general unwillingness to leave our boy with people I don’t know (technically, we could check him in to the Kid’s Club at our gym while we work out), I decided I’d try to run. My knee has been feeling good, and the photocopied info my doctor gave me about patellofemoral pain syndrome says I can get back to normal activities when I can straighten/bend my knee without pain (easy since there hasn’t really been pain from the start); strength is the same compared to the other knee; and I am able to walk, bend, and squat without pain. Check. Check. Check. I’d intended to wait until Monday, at least, but I decided to just do it, like a Nike ad.

Of course, I planned an easy route for myself (5K, about as flat a course as I could imagine with a mile of that being out/back with another 1.1 mile loop in case I got a mile in and found my knee hurting—I could just turn around and walk home without doing that loop), and I ran really slow. I don’t know how slow because I didn’t time myself, and I was probably faster than some other people run. I don’t think I can run a 10-minute mile—I call that walking. But I have long legs, and we’re all different. It’s okay. I’d imagine I did something like 8–9 minute miles. I pushed Liam in his stroller. I made the whole loop and the knee is fine, so I’m happy.

I stopped sweating, then hopped in the shower to clean up before heading out for dinner. Liam played. I got dressed, packed everything Liam could possibly need except a change of diaper (BAD DAD! BAD!), loaded up his high chair, and we were on our way.

Socializing and dinner were both good. It’s funny: I don’t have many friends, which I’ve mentioned, and every other time I’ve hung out with this couple (the only couple we hang out with—the guy I had drinks with earlier this week), Angie has been with me, so it was a bit different to be completely responsible for Liam and chatting up both of them at the same time. It was really a good time. They have a great little son as well, about 6 months Liam’s junior, and it’s so crazy to pick up and hold such a little guy again. He’s just starting to pull himself to standing. It’s fun to think of all the major changes they have coming in the next few months, because it’s fun to think of how rapidly those changes came for us and how those changes change your life in ways, too. Babies/toddlers are a lot of fun.

They made us a great dinner: chicken tacos on tortillas, guacamole and cheese and I even ate a cherry tomato (which I never eat), and there was yellow rice and I even ate some beans, which I really never eat but have been trying to get myself to dive into bits here and there, and they were good and I actually had seconds of the beans, and three of the tacos. I’d taken a 6-pack of Lagunitas’ Little Sumpin’ Wild over, and I drank two of those.

I had a moment of extreme guilt when Liam had blown out his diaper and was soaking wet and had pooped something that burnt his balls to a flaming swollen red and here I was: no diaper. Luckily our friends had a disposable (they use cloth, too, but not the same cloth [we plan to go their route next time, we think]) and although it was a bit too small for Liam, it was bigger than the one disposable I’d had in my car, so I got him changed up but he was not a happy guy with that big red swollen nutsack. What guy would be?

I’m really not focused in on the health and fitness topic today. Sorry. I know it’s the point of this blog, but I’m sure reading the same essential thing over and over gets boring, and then I get to thinking about it and I can’t imagine why anyone would want to read this, either. I know I keep saying it, but I can’t believe people actually read this. I’m flattered and baffled. I feel like I should start sharing some dirt on myself to make it more interesting, but I don’t have all too much dirt, and there’s a chance someone from my office might read this once in a while.

The boys were getting tired so Liam and I loaded up and headed home, and he fell asleep during the drive.

Putting Liam down for his naps is cake: when I pick him up from daycare and he falls asleep on the short 5-minute drive home, I could pretty much throw him into his crib from the doorway and he wouldn’t wake up. Nighttime, though: that’s a whole different beast. He was asleep when I got him out of the car…asleep on my shoulder walking in (just like coming home from daycare), but when I went to lay him in his crib: roll…”eh…EH…AAAAAHHHHH!” Back up in my arms he went. Right back to sleep he went. We rocked in the glider. We rocked a good 10 or 15 minutes. He was out. I went to lay him down…he rolled…”eh…,” but he was settling…then Nosta came strolling into the room, nails clicking on the ground, a little chirp from her, and immediately Liam sat up and started wailing again. DAMNIT! (Angie usually puts Liam down to bed and doesn’t tend to have such a hard time, and Angie is going to be out of town for several nights in a couple of weeks which means this will be my duty and it’s the one thing I’m most worried about while she’s gone: getting him down to sleep at night. I fear I’ll just cave and have him in bed with me every night. But I’m gonna try real hard.)

Back into my arms, right back to sleep. We rocked about 10 more minutes, and he was mostly out, but then Angie got home from San Fran and when she walked in his eyes cracked sleepily open and she peeked in (as one would expect of a mother who hasn’t seen her baby boy all day) and he was still eye-cracked so she asked me if she wanted her to take over and of course, frustrated (not with her but with the fact that I couldn’t get him to bed on my own), I handed him over and went out to grab a beer. I didn’t even sit at the computer or consider blogging, although I consciously noted I wasn’t planning on blogging. The beer was the last of a 6-pack that’s nothing outstanding, New Belgium’s IPA, which is just a pretty standard, reasonably acceptable IPA, and I sat in the big bean bag in the dark and drank that beer while getting more and more tired. I went to bed. Angie had Liam in the crib sleeping in only 15 minutes. I fell asleep. Angie ate, then joined me in bed some time later. I don’t know when. I slept well, but I’m still tired today.

I don’t know what I’ll do today. I know what I’ve done thus far, but I don’t have plans for future-today.

So good day, future-today. I’ll meet you once I post this blog entry, and since the rest of my family is now napping, maybe I’ll head out to the garden to do essentially nothing, or maybe I’ll go swim, or maybe I’ll just call my mom because I haven’t spoken to her in a while. Whatever you may hold for me, future-today, I’m glad you aren’t tomorrow.  

You "Know Exactly Where [My] White Ass Is Comin' From"

It’s Friday, Friiiiday! (Where’s Rebecca Black when I need her?)

I work from home on Friiiday.

I forget if Liam went out to the garden with me this morning. No, wait—he didn’t, ‘cause he was sleeping in our bed again and I got up because I needed to because I…I don’t know why. I had a real hard time falling asleep last night. 11. 12. 12:30. I kept getting up. Tossing. Turning. But ultimately, I slept. And Liam ended up in our bed. It’s hard to complain when you look over and see a little piece of you sleeping peacefully at your side, or reaching over and draping its hand on your arm…or your chest.

Ellipses: I like ellipses…. (Ellipses = 3 dots. Ellipses at the end of a sentence = 4 dots [ellipses + period] That’s my outlook, at least….) I probably use them wrong. I surely overuse them.

I’d watered some last night so there wasn’t much to do in the garden—I just perused. I woke up bitter—bitter about work. It’s something I can’t—or maybe just won’t—explain…like my love of em-dashes and ellipses. The garden was a bit of pleasure, though, and I came back in and drank the remainder of a big jug of Naked Juice.

~~I wonder how high Naked Juice ranks in my blog keywords. Or Blue Machine. I’m an unintentional advertiser, I’ve realized. Bella Bru: I actually noticed that as a keyword in my blog. By the way, google analytics adds fun to this whole thing. Who are you in or near Yakima? I’m not sure. But you’re reading this. Thank you.~~

I didn’t only have Naked Juice (Blue Machine)—I made me and Liam some steel-cut oats. (Angie left for work. NO OATS FOR HER!) I put brown sugar in them. I French-pressed the Mexicans, which I’ve been grinding through slowly. I drank my coffee (black, two cups) while Liam and I ate oatmeal, and it was good. Liam used his spoon to eat, which was also good. That’s not to say I didn’t have to clean up afterward, but….

Not my best mood day, at least ‘til later. I generally like my job and my projects at work, but I’ve recently been pulled back into something I’d escaped and it’s a constant annoyance. The details aren’t important. Me ceasing to complain about them to specific people (persons…a person) is. I need to exercise control. But it’s SO fucking annoying. Done.

I’ll skip work today, then. Just know that I did it. Too much. So much that I felt guilty not giving my boy much attention, but sometimes he’d sit in my lap and otherwise he played or napped, and I got a lot done.

Fucking work.

Lunch…what’d I do for lunch? Oh, right: green beans from the garden, steamed with butter then salted and peppered, and miniature corn that I boiled, and I never boil corn because you lose nutrients, but I was in a hurry and firing up the grill wasn’t the right choice. Miniature corn: I’ve promised a picture. I took one. Notice the quarter in the photo for scale.

I ate all that stuff, minus what I tried to get Liam to eat, plus one ear I tried to get him to eat but he just mouthed up and I’m not so proud to turn that down. It was good. It’s fresh corn, after all, even if it IS tiny. I buttered some, but not all. It was sweet.

Liam went down for his nap, which I already mentioned but am now putting in its proper narrative place.

Worka worka worka. Complaina complaina complaina. (Sorry, you, if you’re reading this.)

And then? Aaaand theeeennnnnn?

And then Liam woke up. I tried to get him to eat all sorts of things he wasn’t eating today, which resulted in me eating a bit of pear, which I don’t tend to eat. Okay, I NEVER eat pear. But I’d cut a bit off a pear and didn’t want to waste it and wanted to set an example so I ate it, and although the flavor isn’t horrible pears, in my experience, have a gritty or sandy texture and I just don’t dig it. But I ate some pear. I ate a whole wheat cracker or two while Liam did the same.

Liam and I did the dishes.

Angie got home. I ate corn chips because I was hungry.

My knee feels normal again and the photocopied info the doctor gave me on patellofemoral pain syndrome says I can go back to my normal activities, but I have some new Superfeet insoles on the way (shout out to Superfeet!) so I’m trying to wait for them before I run again. I might bike Monday, or at least ride the exercise bike if I don’t have my insoles then. Anyway, I swam again today.

I could feel the swim from yesterday. I’ve never swam so much before in my life, especially in succession. A bit over a mile two days in a row, plus however many times I’ve swam in the last 2 weeks, which have tended to be a mile or so. It’s weird, but I’m sorta enjoying it, which is good. I could feel my lats (latissimus dorsi) and pecs (pectoralis) and core muscles (too many to name) all being worked and tired.  I could also feel the horrible cramp I sometimes get from swimming: usually on my left leg, in the front, shin-ish but on the outside, and it coincides with foot/toe cramping. It’s fairly unbearable, but I try to bear it and sometimes that results in regret. I made it through. I’m alive. I soaked in the hot tub.

The steam room is down for repairs. BOOO! (But that’s not infrequent. I imagine it’d be hard to battle the mold and possible health effect [i.e., lawsuits] of mold in and around a steam room.) I did sit in the sauna, though.

I like to sweat when I’m not dressed to not sweat (i.e., when I'm dressed for work or to go out).

There was one other person in the sauna, a guy, and he was sitting on the bench below me but looked up a couple of times. He surprised me with a question and resultant comment I won’t pretend wasn’t flattering or anything: “Are you training for something?”

-Nah, just my health.

“You look really fit.”

-Thanks. I work at it. Are you working toward something?

He looked at me blankly. He was a pretty average-looking guy. I wouldn’t call him fat or skinny or hot or ugly.

-Training for something?

“Oh, no. Just trying to get in better shape. If I could get back to the 14-year old version of me, that’d be great, but that’s a long way off.”

My blog felt so relevant, but it’s not like I can just flash a card: Here, you should check this site out. It’s AWESOME.

-Eh, it’s just a bit at a time. It all takes time. Doesn’t happen overnight.

“True. Whu’d’you do?”

-For workouts or to work?

Work talk ensued. He’s in computer programming. He probably makes more money than me. Most people do. But not everyone gets that ego boost I got from his initial question/comment, so I’ll take it. My life is good.

I got home and Angie was showering after a run and my shirted, bottomless boy came running out. He’s so darn cute. I got video of him playing with Elba (the big pup) earlier today, but not video of the best parts when he was laughing so heartily and Elba was playing right back. These things just warm my heart so.

I started some brown rice on the stovetop. It was stir-fry night, and we hadn’t had such a night in a while. What went into it? Well, brown rice for one thing. But it was a TON of vegetables and a bit of chicken. What vegetables? Okay: snap peas (from the grocery); farmers’ market broccoli and carrots; green onion, zucchini, and gypsy pepper from the garden; and sauce. The vegetables, before cooking, looked like this (minus the snap peas):

The sauce is one of those things that never tastes quite the same, partially ‘cause I never measure anything for sauces, but it consisted of a mix of orange juice, soy sauce, paprika, garlic granules, fresh-ground pepper, red pepper flakes, and corn starch. When it was all in the wok, it looked like this:

I burnt the rice a bit. No matter. When it was all plated up, it looked like this:

And it was tasty. I’ve been drinking wine. Zin first, from Montevina, and now a red blend from Kenwood. I’d really wanted to get drunk tonight before I went swimming. Now I’m buzzed and happy, but I don’t generally like drunk. I don’t want to get drunk. I just want to get buzzed. Mission accomplished.

I’ll finish this glass and I’d bet on one more while reading before I go to bed. I feel like I’m forgetting something. I feel like I had a witty title for this entry while I was swimming, but it has escaped me. It’s not like I’m witty, anyway. Who are you, Yakima? You can tell me, even if it’s in private. I wish everyone reading would start to “follow” this blog. You can do that to your right. Right now. To your right. You might have to scroll up a bit, ‘cause I’m wordy. You’ll see seven other followers. There’s no shame. People are even starting to come across this crap I spew through google searches. Who’da thunk it? Not me.

So good night, people who are reading this but I don’t know…or likely DO know but am not sure who you are. If I REALLY knew how to use google analytics, it would probably tell me your name, address, social security number, PIN, and show me a picture of your house, possibly that one time you were out getting the mail in your skivvies. But I’m not that savvy. So you remain a mystery. How True Romance: “Now see…we're sittin' down here…ready to negotiate…and you've already given up your shit. I'm still a mystery to you. But I know exactly where your white ass is comin' from.” Yes, you do. And you are. Damnit.  

Starting in the Middle...Sorta

It’s funny how an email can sidetrack you. Irk you. Make you not want to write a blog entry.

Okay: ME. I’m talking about me here. Not you. Duh: it’s a blog that’s all about me. Ego satisfaction…sometimes.

Although maybe you experience the same thing.

I never start in the middle, so I will.

There was a bee death today. There were certainly several, but I saw one of them. Or the beginnings of it. I can’t claim I actually watched it die. That was after I ate and apple and someone asked me “Are you eating an onion?” and I told them no. I mean, who eats an onion like an apple?

It was also before I picked up Liam, who did his usual napping, and before I ate only pretzels for lunch (other than that apple) just because maybe I wasn’t hungry enough or I was feeling lazy or something. Maybe it’s because I was engrossed in my work. I didn’t eat much. I worked. Liam slept.

I’m tired. I’ve had a mild headache all day. You know I worked. You know I didn’t eat much of a lunch. You don’t know yet that my knee was feeling pretty solid today so I went and swam. I swam 40 minutes, which means around a mile but I’m starting to not count my laps anymore, especially when I swim at this other pool.

I swam at this other pool today.

I kicked the whole time—no pull buoy. I’ve promised myself I won’t try to run or bike until next week. Healing takes time. And/or magic.

Swimming isn’t the best headache cure, I don’t think. Tension in the neck, shoulders, and upper back isn’t known for curing headaches. I did feel a bit better after my swim, but then I also didn’t, so essentially I just got my swim done. I think the Geico caveman was hanging out by the pool. It’s the second time I’ve seen him there.

I soaked. I steamed. I sauna…d.

Just for narrative confusion, I had an “Everything Bagel” toasted with butter today, and they actually gave me butter, not cream cheese. In fact, it was buttered FOR me. That’s right. And I drank a mocha.

Liam woke up around 3:00am and I got up to try to help him back to sleep. He slept, but I didn’t, and he wouldn’t be put down, and this headache had started and I really needed to pee, so after moving from the rocker to the bean bag then finally taking Liam into bed (about 60 minutes after he’d initially woken up), I peed. I laid in bed and went back to sleep. It was a bit after 4:00am.

I had weird dreams. I HATE dreaming.

I woke up after Liam did (again) around 6:45 and went out to the garden by myself this time. I watered. I came in and drank a bit of Blue Machine. I showered. I left for work.

I’ve been sitting on my ball all day at work lately. Or all morning. It has replaced my chair. I bounce on it. I roll on it. I did 25 pushups with my feet up on it. I get comments on it because it looks like so much fun or because some people think it’s weird.

I got a fan in my office today. A mini fan, but I was able to make it blow directly on me and it sure did feel nice—I stopped sweating. Not that work isn’t WAY more fun when you’re sitting at your computer and feeling sweat drip down your sides, but the fan: it was a nice change.

I’m inexplicably annoyed about things I can’t write about here, which is fine, I guess, since I already declared these things inexplicable. To explain would make me a liar.

Work. Huh. Good times.

It was date night and we went to Matteo’s, a local place that’s badass that I’ve surely already talked about. I had 2 glasses of a red wine—some blend from Lodi—and Angie and I split a salad (greens, cubed carrots and cucumber [the latter of which I avoided because I hate it], and a balsamic vinaigrette), I ate a couple slices of a parmesan garlic bread, and my main course was fettuccine alfredo with chicken. I gave some bits of chicken to Liam. He was in a great mood today. He looked like such a little boy today, partially because my wife bought him new clothes and shoes yesterday.

I thought I lost one of my debit cards, then realized I’d just put it in a weird place in my wallet, so that was bad then good and also odd. I’m a man of routine.

Following routine, we went to Cold Stone and got ice cream. Mine: a Like It of cake batter with Kit Kat bar and M&Ms mixed in. I like getting M&Ms mixed into my ice cream because the colors run and it makes it pretty. I like to eat pretty.

We got home and it was mostly dark—not fully dark, but mostly dark. The days are getting noticeably shorter. I had some garden chores to do and a few things that NEEDED to be harvested, so I strapped on the headlamp and went outside while Angie bathed Liam. We brushed his teeth. We read to him. Angie got him to sleep. I drank a glass of wine. We…snuggled.

And here I am, drinking another glass of wine to try to get myself to sleep, smelling my cats and thinking how gross cats are and how I’d be okay with not having any but at least one of the cats we have will outlive both our dogs. Shit. I hate that. And I don’t get this whole cat thing anymore. I need to go to bed and get away from the stink of cat shit. Cats: yuck. Kittens sure are cute, though.

So goodnight, non-kittens, and work-annoyances: you’ll both still be here in the morning. Some I’ll confront before others. I’m betting Liam will be at the office with me for a bit in the morning. But until then….

Smoking Man, Smoking Tires, and a Free Mocha

Getting to yesterday today. Boy, that’s a non-promise I wish I could take back, but I bet I can take care of yesterday pretty quickly.

1.      Wake up.

2.      Change Liam and get him some milk and zucchini muffin.

3.      Eat some zucchini muffin myself, because that shit’s good.

4.      Liam and I to the garden. Water. Inspect. Lament.

5.      Work.

6.      Instant oatmeal with flax, almonds (unsalted), mocha.

7.      Work.

8.      Banana.

9.      Change cars with Angie.

9.5.Apple (I ate it while changing cars.)

10.  Pick up Liam, Liam falls asleep, transfer Liam to crib.

11.  Work.

12.  Turkey sandwich, double fiber bread, lettuce, swiss, mustard.

13.  Work.

14.  Work.

15.  Work.

16.  Liam awake.

17.  Work while listening to Bruno Mars Lazy Song.

18.  Dance to Bruno Mars Lazy Song.

19.  Zucchini muffin.

20.  Work.

21.  Fold Laundry.

22.  Angie home.

23.  Swim 35 minutes, mostly with pull buoy.

24.  Make pepperoni pizza with pesto sauce, salads with carrot and cheese and croutons and Italian dressing.

25.  Drink wine; carmenere; honor 120 chileans.

26.  False blog start.

27.  Read in bed.

28.  Sleep in bed.

Today, though, I knew I had no oatmeal at the office. Hence, I went to Bella Bru for my lemon poppy seed muffin and mocha.

—Shit. Start over.—

I got up at 6:25, as did Liam. Diaper change, milk and zucchini muffin (we both ate some muffin [I LOVE eating muffin]), out to the backyard. I watered corn and Liam stepped in fresh dog poop. This was a first. Sure, he has picked up fresh dog poop, but this was all over his sandals and his toes. So I watered Liam. Sprayed him off. Cleaned both him and his sandal. With the hose.

Liam picked a tomato. It was ripe. I thanked him.

Inside, routine things, off to work. Now, back to before: I knew I had no oatmeal at the office. Hence, I went to Bella Bru for my lemon poppy seed muffin and mocha.

“Stan, right?”

-Yup.

“Do you have a coffee card?”

-OH! I DO! And I think I get a free one!

I did. And I did. So I only paid for my muffin, got a free mocha, and tipped her for reminding me. That’s worthwhile. I was also reviewing resumes while driving to the coffee shop, waiting in line at the coffee shop, and then once I got to the office ‘cause I can’t eat, drink coffee, drive, AND review resumes all at once, and eating is way better than reviewing resumes.

I was a bit stressed about an upcoming interview that I wasn’t really prepared for (interviewing a prospective employee, not interviewing for another job) and all the work I had to do otherwise. The interview happened and was not as organized as I would have liked, and that was my fault.

~~I’m tired and making tired typos, which hopefully you won’t see, but it’s slowing this process, and all I really want to do is go to bed. This is how dedicated I am to the two of you reading this. Hi Angie!~~

The interview also took longer than I planned. It ended. I got a few things done. I finished my unsalted almonds. I ate a banana on the way to the car switch. I ate an apple on the way to Liam. Liam fell asleep on the way home and I transferred him to his crib and considered just eating pretzels but instead made a PBs&strawberryJ on double fiber bread to go along with them. I drank water. I took the day off exercise, except for some yoga and pushups with Liam on my back because that’s what happens when I lay on my stomach these days: Liam crawls on my back…then I do pushups because he’s there.

But before that yoga and pushups, I worked. I accomplished things. I moved mountains. I made things that weren’t going to happen happen, because that’s what it takes sometimes. It’s funny how you can turn a two-week delay into prompt action when you do it right. I was commended. (I hoped this would be remembered at raise time, which is right around the corner. Hope hope hope.)

I folded more laundry today. Uncharacteristically, I met a friend out for dinner and a few beers. This isn’t something I do…ever…and I still feel a bit guilty for missing time with my family. Does that make me weird? Unbalanced? Whatever.

A good time was had though, as were a good burger (hand-pressed good beef with cheddar cheese, but I’m pretty sure those steak fries had been frozen and deep-fried) and beer. There was a small salad, too, off of which I pushed the cucumber and tomatoes and onto which I put some sort of vinaigrette. The beer, though: that was the point of the place. I had a pint of Green Flash’s West Coast IPA. I had a pint of Lagunitas’ Little Sumpin’ Sumpin’. I had a 12-ounce of the Old Rasputin. These things are worth a night out. You don’t get these beers on tap everywhere. AND the conversation was good.

It was nice to have a night out and bullshit with a buddy. Maybe I don’t do it enough. I don’t have a lot of friends—I’m quick to admit that. And those I do have that I really cherish don’t live near me. I’m bad at staying in touch. I hate talking on the phone. Email is impersonal. I have one guy here locally that I hang out with, usually it’s a family affair, and that’s who I hung out with tonight, just me and him.

Drives home are usually uneventful, as most driving is, but I had a good laugh tonight. I stopped at a red light and heard tires screech beside me. I looked over and saw a cloud of smoke—the rubber from the tires due to the friction of the quick stop—and I saw the driver, a guy…maybe my age but I’d guess younger—look quizzically over his shoulder. I looked away. I smelled the stink of rubber. I looked over again. He looked at me.

“Was that me?”

I laughed loudly.

-Yeah.

“Man, I didn’t even smoke that much.”

I laughed again. I’m pretty sure that’s what he said. Then the light turned green and we moved on and we were coming up on a light and it turned red and he was in front of me but still in the other lane and there was plenty of time before we got to that red light and I knew it would be green well before we got there but he was on his brakes, slowing down way too early, and then I was more confident he’d said, “Man, I didn’t even smoke that much,” ‘cause apparently he did. I laughed the rest of the way home.

I came home to the porch light on, around 9:30, and it was kinda cool because it was the first time I’d come home to the porch light on since I installed the new porch light months ago. Angie was just putting Liam down to sleep. I got to sneak a kiss in on him, which made me feel better. Angie and I got to chat and catch up on our days and the evening. I poured the remnants of my bottle of wine from last night, which I’m about to finish now before I head to bed. I’m real sleepy.

So goodnight, guy who smoked more than he thought and couldn’t quite handle it. Way to over-correct. I hope you made it home safely, and any potential roadkill in your way did as well.

Wine glass empty, I’m going to sleep.

Reading

Today has been amusing…in that way you’re sometimes amused by things that might otherwise annoy you and you try consciously push buttons and then end up typing a blog entry when you’re pretty sure you’d rather be reading.

I’d rather be reading.

I’m gonna go read. I’ll get to today tomorrow.