do you work for free?

My mathematician friend, who is a constant source of amusement, sent me an email he wrote to an amazon seller from whom he was trying to buy shit for his bike. He ordered some brake pads for them only to find out the shipping costs were as much as the brake pads. He cancelled the order once he found that out, citing the reason for the cancellation as the shipping being to costly. The seller, who obviously needs to take some business classes, sent him an email:

We have to do about 15 mins of paperwork for all international orders, & then we have a 23 mile round trip to bring international packages to our post office where they all have to be weighed & measured. Time is money, do you work for free ?    ..... because my shipper doesn't & neither do I.
I think a lot of customers lose site that when you order online, you are paying for a service,  so you can sit at home & have your stuff delivered to your door without having to run around shopping trying find what you want, saving time & gas. If you don't like shipping cost then go & support your local bicycle shop instead of ordering online.

So he sent this response (hee):

Hey, [dick head amazon seller],

We're losing something in all the relays and translations, here. I'm not trying to insult you, or demean your efforts to provide customer service. I completely understand that folks are investing effort and trying to make a living from every one of these transactions and shipments.

Here's my customer experience to perhaps give you some context for my comment:

The headset on my three year old cyclocross bike is starting to 'clunk'. I'm thinking "that timing is about right, since these days the manufacturer is all about tapered headsets and they probably don't make the one that will fit my bike anymore".

I go to the manufacturers' websites for the specs, rather than riding to my LBS, since I’m at work and am supposed to be working.

The manufacturers website is a carnival of videos and links to race results and t-shirt sales, but after about 10 minutes I'm pretty sure it is not going to tell me anything quickly about the OMS headset for their 2010 model.

But while I'm there, I see a link to the results of one of their sponsored racers and I remember seeing a magazine feature about his bike back in the day, which prompted me to buy mine in the first place. I look that up, and there it is in a photo - super fancy ceramic headset - not like the one on my bike that goes clunk.

I crib the name of the part from the picture and hit the search engine. I discover that - wonder - that particular headset is no longer being advertised by its manufacturer, but seems to be available all over the internet at deep discount. I begin to salivate.

I try a couple of direct orders, but the part seems to be sold out at most distributors. I am referred to Amazon Marketplace again and again, though, because they seem to have collected all the Google box tops and are put at the top of the results for every search.

I go there and query. They say they have the headset. Yay! And I have an account, even, because I've bought books from them in the past. Cool.

I put the headset in my 'shopping cart' on their website.

Before it lets me pay, Amazon tells me that "people like you also recently purchased..." and shows me a bunch of little pictures across the bottom of the screen. I remember that my LBS was out of Swissstop Green pads last time I asked for them and I hate having to default to Shimano pads because they get black rubber dust all over everything. I add a 4 pack of the Swissstop pads to my Amazon cart.

I use Amazon's "one click check out" and go back to paying work.

Email confirmation of my order comes to my inbox. The email tells me that the headset is coming from one supplier in one place, and that the brake pads are coming from another supplier in another. I think "That's pretty stupid".

Amidst a bunch of other reassuring stuff, their email also mentions that the shipping charges for the brake pads will be 130% of the cost of the product itself. I think "that's *really* stupid."

"This is not an economic trend I should be encouraging", I further decide, "I could wait the time it will take the order to get to me here in Kanukistan and the pads will be in stock again at my LBS".

I click the link provided for "if you need to return an item from this shipment or manage other orders, please visit 'Your Orders' on Amazon.com".

I cancel the order with the handy button there, and in the comment box, because I'm polite, I give them a little feedback and say, "Shipping cost disproportionately high" in case the presence of the comment box is actually a sign that they are interested in my consumer experience and are willing to consider the reasons for the cancellation.

Amazon sends me a note telling me my brake pad order has shipped and dusts their hands of the matter - " Thank you for shopping with us. We thought you'd like to know that [dick head seller] shipped your item, and that this completes your order. Your order is on its way, and can no longer be changed."

Hmmnnn... I mull this over for a bit.

And decide, "Caveat emptor. You just wanted the snazzy headset anyway, and the discount on that will offset your now-pricey brake pads", I continue with my work.

But, I am clearly not having a good day. Amazon sends me a notice saying that the order for my headset has been cancelled because the item is out of stock at wherever it was in that other place they had said they were going to ship it from.

I am saddened by this news. I am not relishing further internet adventures. Plus, my bike will continue to judder every time I brake in the interim. I notice with wry amusement, however, that the headset part of the shipment, were I to receive it, would have only cost me 8% of the purchase price of the headset for its actual shipping... A shame. Ah, well.

This morning on the way to work, a commuter coming downhill out of control on his mountain bike along the narrow, tree-lined bike path nerfed me off the outside of a blind corner as I was riding up. He had disk brakes, but was going about a million miles an hour.

I was standing to climb as he came at me, and I bunny hopped sideways to get out of his line. My bike was sort of clear, but he hit my left hand with his handlebars and ploughed his helmet into my left shoulder with significant force, knocking me over the edge.

Lying in the punji stakes I had just made, I thought, "For Fucks Sake!" (I may even have said that part out loud), and struggled back toward the path in the hope of catching the idiot and beating the shit out of him.

I needn't have bothered - when I found him tangled in his bike in the trees on the other side of the path a little way downhill, his nose was broken and there was blood and mud and torn clothes everywhere.

He seemed dazed and intimidated. We exchanged a few words, but he refused help and gave every indication of wanting to get on his way. I picked my bike out of the bushes and rode on up the path, massaging my shoulder. He limped out of sight around the next corner down, wheeling his piece.

My shifter was twisted on the drop from the accident and the bar tape under it was unraveling, but further damage seems to have been prevented by my left hand taking most of the hit. My glove was torn. My front brake was dragging on the wheel. My headset seemed worse than before.

Here at the office, facing another day, I find your email in my inbox, as copied below. You employ the word "site" inappropriately and seem to be arguing that you are saving me from having to "run around shopping".

Next to it, a marketing outfit has sent two messages offering me a $50 Amazon gift certificate if I will participate in a survey.

I just now have discovered a trail of dried blood on my neck, coming from my left ear. No one I've talked to in the course of business this morning has said anything about it.

All I want to ask you is...

Do you have any good bar tape in stock? I'm going to have to rewrap my drops after I fix that left shift lever and its cabling tonight.

For all of us who shop online...ha  ha  haaaaa.

And yes, I am too jet lagged today to write my own blog post. That's why I make friends with amusing people.

all in pays off

My dad was a little concerned when I quit my job last week without an official offer letter from my new company. Then I botched my drug test by drinking too much water. Even though I've never done an illegal drug in my life (except for taking white crosses, which aren't illegal but do require a prescription, one summer in 1989 when I was working on a farm and training for karate in the evenings, which basically required me to sometimes stay awake for two days at a stretch) my parents seemed worried about the test.

Obviously, I passed. I am free of my former employer, picture me shooting them the bird in my rear view.

Onward to better things...

a dress made of wine

How awesome is that!!!!!!!!!!

http://shine.yahoo.com/fashion/dress-made-wine-181300537.html.

Of course, one wonders why a scientist didn't drink his wine rather than leaving it around to get contaminated with bacteria...

that's what I get for taking a drug test in the tenderloin

Right after class today I literally ran 2.1 miles to the lab where I was scheduled to retake my drug test. I ended up getting this chinese dude as my "collector". Though the lab was more of the set up I'm used to the whole thing was strange.

For starters, the collector said he normally watches people pee in the cup. I was like "huh". Then he said he would give me privacy if I wanted it. I was like "Um, yeah." Then he said "if you want me to watch you pee in cup I will." No thanks.

The bathroom was right off the collector's office so there was no chance I could screw it up like I did last time. The collector insisted I keep the door open a crack and after I had been peeing for a few seconds he yelled in to me "that should be enough!" Creepy. Who listens to people peeing?

I sat down with him and the chain of custody docs. We were exchanging pleasantries about urine. He explained the dilute issue I had before and said there wasn't enough potassium and something else (sodium?) in my last sample and that the lab never should have taken it because they can tell by the color if it's too diluted. Apparently it's hard to screen for water added because the water can be filtered. They should have had me wait another 45 minutes and take the test again. Assholes.

Then the conversation went down hill. He saw that the company requesting the test is in the healthcare industry:

Collector: Oh, so you a nurse?
Me: Um, no.
Collector: Oh, you look very cute in nurse uniform.
Me. Hm.
Collector: You wear nurse uniform. Blond makes nice nurse.
Me: I'll keep that in mind.
Collector: Urine very nice color. (Holding the specimen up to the light as if it's a rare diamond) You make very nice sample.
Me: Uh, thanks. Can I go now?
Collector: Colorado very pretty. I would like to visit Colorado.
Me: Me too. Too bad I travel all the time (fake laugh).

Hopefully he will expedite my test so my new employer can get the results back tomorrow or Wednesday... I don't think I can survive taking the test again.

Just got into San Fran today (so glad I won't be doing this kind of travel anymore - I fucking hate having only one day at home before I'm off to the next place - how crazy is it that I'm in Orlando one day and San Fran two days later - no one should have to do that kind of travel).

I'm staying in a totally shit hotel in the tenderloin district. I knew I had arrived in the right place when I was confronted by a man wearing only pink Y fronts and a pink feather boa. He said "I love you Greta Garbo!" (I was wearing a hat and sunglasses - I blew him a kiss and he screamed and flapped his boa around).

Walked around the neighborhood. It's been a while since I've been here. When I lived in Capitola back in 2000 - 2001 I used to know San Fran like the back of my hand. But today I kept getting confused about where I was. I went to the fruit market and bought cherries. They were $1 a lb (they are $8 a lb in Denver). The lady was like "wow, that's a lot of cherries you're buying" and I was like "well, I'm here for three days" and she was like "that's a lot of cherries to eat in three days". Really? Because I've already eaten a quarter of them. So fresh and good, I LOVE cherries. I should have bought peaches too.

Then I decided to time the walk to the lab where I'll be retaking my drug test. I passed a theater where I once dragged my ex-husband's company to see a one man play called "Don't Make Me Say Things That Will Hurt You". It was about a gay guy who broke up with his lover and involved, at one point, him waving two double headed dildos around with Mr. Potato Head face parts glued to the penis heads. Imagine 6 terrified software engineers, most from the east coast, sitting in the front row with me. I laughed my ass off through the whole show and then we had crepes.

I passed the Hotel Rex, where, a few months after my divorce, a rich Indian guy I had met through a friend reserved a room for me so he could meet me in person. His name was Raj. I flew in early Friday morning and was supposed to leave on Sunday. He paid for my plane ticket from Baltimore and the room, picked me up at the airport, took me for drinks in the US Bank Building (best bar ever), dropped me at the hotel, and I never saw him again. We were supposed to meet for lunch the following day but he never called. I took advantage of the time by having dinner with my ex-husband and his then girlfriend. Sunday I saw Vanilla Sky and was like that's kind of my life, bought the sound track, and listened to it the whole flight home. Got an email from Raj two months later, on Valentine's Day. I didn't respond.

I walked passed the argonaut book store, where I used to buy books. Passed a restaurant near Fillmore where I used to eat after going to the ballet. Passed Le Central, the oldest french bistro in San Fran, where we sometimes had dinner on Friday nights. Walked up a steep hill and thought about how I always had to drive in San Fran because my ex could never manage the clutch on hills. Thought about how me and my friend Kerreck, who was a ballet dancer, used to sneak into unused boxes at the ballet (we'd go to our proper seats in the grand tier and when the ballet started we would sneak out and into an unused box).

Then I started thinking about how I should try to go to the exploratorium before I leave Wednesday night and how it was there that I first discovered I have a heart murmur (I was checking my heart rate on a machine that made a graphic of heart rate and a doctor walking by stopped and was like "oh my god, you need to get that checked out!" because my heart rate looked like a stair case instead of a mountain range).

I remembered how my ex used to pretend to be retarded in public and how I would yell at him and people would look at me like I was a bitch (he was acting retarded on the street and one woman stopped, patted him on the head, and said "you are a very special boy!" before glaring at me). He also, on my 30th birthday, told me we were going to a wedding but it ended up being Tony and Tina's wedding. Everyone in the audience knew it was a surprise for me. I was sitting in the church wondering why all these people I knew had been invited to the wedding when the show began. About 10 minutes into it I was like "this isn't a real wedding!" and everyone in the audience laughed. Three software engineers that worked for my ex, Brian, Bryan, and Matt, gave me a real Navy SEAL diving knife that was engraved with "I'm gonna git you sucka!" on one side and "Love Brian, Bryan, and Matt" on the other. My sister's asspipe (now ex) husband threw it out when I stored my dive equipment at their house during a move. The night of my birthday I strapped it to my thigh like I was a Bond girl.

Wow. That was a long bunch of what the fuck reflection. I was sitting on the plane today thinking how everything in my life is changing (not just work but why delve into my personal life) and I thought of this poem someone gave me last year about this guy watching deer in the snowy woods. The last line is "I realize I've wasted my life".

Don't want that to be my poem too. Change is good.

failed the test AGAIN

Nothing is EVER easy...

Today I got a call from my new employer because, even though my drug test came back negative (duh) it was so diluted that I have to take it again.

I was like "for real? why?????????"

The recruiter I'm working with said that there was too much water in my sample. She asked me how much water I drank before the test. I figured I drank 100 ounces of water in 45 minutes. I just wanted to make sure I'd have to pee. The recruiter said that flags the sample. I was like stop the fucking presses, for real? Because the whole POINT of taking the test under the conditions it was administered was so they would know I didn't cheat. And anyway, there was no way to cheat. And if I had just dumped water in the sample that still wouldn't have diluted it in a way that would make a positive test come back negative. That makes no damn sense.

She was like "Look, just take the test again, and don't drink so much water."

So I have to take it again on Monday. For fuck's sake. I've done a ton of these tests and NEVER had that problem before.

In other, good, news, the tree was out of my yard, looks like my mock orange and butterfly bushes survived, and now my roses will get more sun.

Think positive...

free at last

I quit my job today. My manager was pretty much a dick about it. Ask me if I care. Um, no.

Word travels fast. People keep calling me and emailing me. I'm hiding in my hotel room ignoring them. Later I'm going out with the brits for a drink. And they invited me to go to a water park with them on Thursday.

'Cause, it's not like I was going to work on Thursday...fuck that shit.

screw up the test, ace the presentation

I had two very important things to do today at the software conference I'm attending: take a drug test for my new employer and give a presentation at the conference.

So I got to the drug test place and they took me back to this area and told me to pee in a cup. Because I'm in Florida the guy who explained to me what to do was cuban and I couldn't exactly understand him. I went into the bathroom, peed in the cup, came out, found him in his office, and handed him the cup. I should mention that the line up of the area was the bathroom, his office, and a hall to the waiting area where there was a water dispenser.

He started yelling at me and said he couldn't take the sample. I was like dude, what the fuck? Since I left the bathroom and entered an area where there was a water dispenser he couldn't take it (apparently I was supposed to yell for him when I was done and then open the bathroom door and wait there). Like, seriously, just get one of those little cabinets you leave the pee in in the bathroom.

Then he said, according to the rules, that I had to wait another 45 minutes to take the test again. Ech. My friend S had driven me to the test (he's a gentleman and insisted) and we were both blowing off the conference so it sucked that we had to wait. Anyway, the second time I managed to do it right. S thinks the cuban guy liked me and just wanted to keep me around for another 45 minutes.

The good thing is the presentation went well. I had a lot of people show up even though it was at the same time as happy hour. Got some customer leads but then again who cares since I'm quitting.

Speaking of which, I'm totally stressing about that because I closed two more engagements today and they think I'm going to do the work and I just smile my head and nod, "um yeah, sounds great".

I wonder if the shit is going to hit the fan when I quit.

next time just ask for my number

On Friday, for the first time in like 10 years, I was seated next to a hot guy on the flight from Burbank to Denver. More importantly, the hot guy wanted to talk to me.

When I first sat down he said "I noticed you in the waiting area. Is that a fake cigarette you're smoking? That's so cool." I normally don't talk to people on planes but he had really nice eyes, so we chatted about what we were doing in Burbank (he's a journalist who covered the war in Iraq embedded with troops, now he's making a documentary about drug cartels in California, and he was once robbed at gun point in Pakistan in the mid 90s) and why we were going to Denver (his family has a house in Aspen and he was visiting them for the weekend, catching his flight to Aspen from Denver). He was also carrying a copy of the latest new yorker.

A guy right up my alley, right? But, even when he was asking me if I was single, if I had kids, if I found it a struggle to have a relationship with my schedule, I just fired off answers like I was on a job interview. I told him about Paradox Sports and he said "I have a friend who just did a documentary on wounded war vets. If they need some publicity I can put them in touch with someone if you give me your contact info." But I didn't want him to think I was trying to use him for his contacts so I said "Oh, that's okay. I don't want to trouble you."

Our flight was delayed due to mechanical problems and he was worried he would miss his flight to Aspen. He said "I guess if I miss it I'll have to hang around Denver this evening" and I was like "at least it's a fun town", totally missing the hint. And when the plane landed he didn't seem to be in a rush, so I was rushing him along (I have this thing about missing flights) to make sure he got to his plane (when we landed he was like "I'll never make it" and I was like "no, the gate's just right down the hall, you'll make it!").

We said goodbye and went our separate ways. It was only when I got to the elevator to the parking lot that I realized that he was flirting with me. I am SUCH a FUCKING MORON.

It's time to get my game back on. I can't believe I met a cool guy that is like me and that reads the new yorker and was a war correspondent (weirdly that's kind of a dream job for me) and I totally fucked it up because I'm a fuck wit idiot with no social skills.

Someone kick me in the ass, please.

just when you think things can't get worse

I got home late last night and found that my neighbor hadn't flushed the "brown water" (polite way of saying "shit") in the downstairs toilet. I love flushing other people's shit.

The valve is broken so now I'm going to have to call a plumber to fix it. I don't have time to fix it myself. Don't know when I'll do that since it's looking like I'll get no time off before my new job starts and I'm only home saturday for the next three weeks. I'm quitting my job on Tuesday...hope everything goes smoothly with my new job.

Anyway, I was talking to my friend Trina on the phone and looking out my bedroom door (there was a lot of lightning) when my neighbor's tree fell into my yard:

And then my neighbor on the other side (the asshole) came out and started yelling at ME. I was like "dude, that's not even MY tree!" Dick.

The dick who owns the tree said he'll clean it up tomorrow. So I had to go out and saw branches for an hour so I can get out to my garage. The tree ripped out my cable. Good thing I don't have a tv. I have to leave again at 5 am tomorrow for a week long trip. That fucking tree better not be in my yard when I get home.

I hope my new cheyenne mock tree survives. I tried to cut off the tree branches that were crushing it. Both my butterfly bushes got crushed too.

my poor cheyenne mock orange bush

color me FUCKING PISSED OFF

Why do I live in a building with a bunch of idiots? Because I can't kill them.

Today the painters were supposed to start painting my building. I sent an email out to everyone with the schedule. My neighbor who was staying at my house said she would give the painter our house colors we picked. I left for Cali Sunday figuring everything was under control.

But of course, nothing goes as planned. The dick who lives next door to me decided he wants to do some brick work on his house. Though he's known FOR TWO MONTHS that painting would start this week he waited until FRIDAY to decide to get estimates. That threw off our schedule by three weeks and I'm not even convinced he's really going to get the work done. Meanwhile, he told the painters, who were doing prep work today, to go home which caused the painter to call me right in the middle of the class I'm teaching. Then dick face sent a bunch of shitty emails to me because apparently he didn't read any of the emails I sent him saying the prep work would start but the painting wouldn't until his brick work is done. My neighbor didn't get a chance to give the painter the colors and the guy on the other side of me didn't bother to answer my email asking him to do it until the painters left.

So I just spent another 45 minutes of my life that I'll never get back trying to straighten the whole mess out.

I'm so glad I'm quitting my job soon. Given the way this engagement is going and the shit with the building getting painted I might have a nervous breakdown. Not one goddamn person in the building is helping, and they are all making the job harder.

Maybe I should move.

please don't break my toilet

No good deed goes unpunished.

I let my neighbor stay in my house because she's in town and her house is rented out and she had nowhere to stay.

First she invited her daughter to stay at my place, meaning when I get home at late o'clock Friday I'll have to change the sheets on my bed.

Then I got this email this morning:

"The toilet downstairs wouldn't turn off, so I manually turned it off.  But now it won't come back on.  Is there a trick to turning the spigot? 

 

It's got brown water in it now.  Sorry.  I hope I can get it properly flushed before leaving."

 

I sent her an email back and told her to dump water into the toilet to manually flush it. I really don't want to get home to a bathroom smelling like "brown water".

 

Ech. All I have to do is leave home and shit (hee) breaks. 

On the bright side, I got an offer letter from my new company. The down side is I can't move forward until I take a drug test which I was supposed to take yesterday but I'm in the middle of nowhere California and the closest drug testing facility is in Los Angeles and they are only open from 9 - 3:30. Since I'm working all day I can't just leave and drive 4 hours to and from the testing lab. Will likely have to take the test next week in Florida. Hopefully I can talk a colleague with a car into driving me to and from the lab since I won't have a rental car.

the almost perfect man in my life

Today, while driving from Burbank to China Lake (144 miles) for a customer engagement I started thinking about how my GPS and I are finally in that relationship stage where we understand each other (it's only taken 2 years).

Sure, he's not the perfect man. For one thing, he's not even human. But in the past months the dude and I have been through some interesting adventures. When he's with me I don't feel like I'm on the road, by myself, with no one to help me.

As a typical guy, he does yell at me sometimes when I miss an exit or go the wrong way, saying "make a U-turn!" like a billion times a second until I turn around. And he occasionally lies (like when he says "please return to the road" and I'm driving on the road, or when he tells me to turn down a street that doesn't exist). I used to not trust him, and would also print out directions (my dad told me to do this, and it's probably a good idea). But now I just figure between my GPS and I we can figure out how to get from point a to point b. We're finally in that team phase of "performing".

I do play tricks on him, like when I name my destination a bad word so I can hear my GPS, who has a british accent, say "You are arriving at the ass palace*, on the left". It makes me laugh. I also love the way he mispronounces words like boulevard (he says "boo LEE verd").

Yesterday on the way back from hiking with Kevin I was talking about my sister, who is both highly intelligent and attractive. He said "guys don't mind geeks like you, it's the ones that are attractive AND intelligent that we don't trust".

Um, what?

I should figure out how to hack my GPS's software so he says "hello beautiful" every time I, hee, turn him on.


*the name for my company's building

contorted filbert

Today I had to go to home depot to buy another cactus because I'm obsessed with cacti and one of mine got a fungi and died.

I was wandering through the tree section because I was thinking to get another tree for my yard to block the sight of my asshole neighbor's yard when I spied this amazing thing:

It's called a contorted filbert. It's a shrub but you can prune it and disguise it as a tree. It grows to be 8 - 10 feet tall and is as wide as it is tall if you don't prune it.

I was in love. But it cost $70. I took a picture and sent it to my dad and asked if I should buy it. He said to research it online first.

So I did, thought it would be the coolest thing EVER to have in my yard, and I returned to Home Depot. Three people were mingling around Filbert touching his leaves so I had to almost run them over with my trolley to get them to back away.

The only problem was, I couldn't lift Filbert. He weighs 150 lbs. Also, I wasn't sure he would fit in my car. I asked if there was a way Filbert could be delivered to my house and the woman working in the tree section said "Honey, rent a truck."

Bitch.

So I went to a nursery up the street to see if they might have a contorted filbert, but smaller, so I could pick him up. They were like "um, no". Then I asked if perhaps they could order me a smaller contorted filbert. They were like "um, no".

So I bought a cheyenne mock orange shrub instead because this hot guy named Bret said it was his favorite bush (Bret works at the nursery and gallantly carried the shrub out to my car and refused a tip - I will be going back to see him). It smells like oranges and has white flowers.

employee of the week

That should be me! Today I deleted all the emails I received without reading them. It was fun.

And to contrast my new company with my old, I've already gotten invites from the VPs I'll be working with and everyone I interviewed with on linkedin and all the invites were welcoming me as a colleague to my new company. I sent my manager at my current company (who is the one who mandated I open a linkedin account) an invite a year ago. He still hasn't responded.

I really, really hope this is the beginning of the best job ever.

the important thing is...

Tuesday was my birthday, and ranks second as the worst birthday ever (worst birthday ever was when I was in the middle east). I was working on a client engagement which was a disaster because the idiots at my company sent the wrong laptops out to the client. The day went downhill from there.

But I will no longer be complaining about my company any more because I nailed the interview I had on Wednesday and will be quitting as soon as I have the offer letter in hand. The company that offered me the job is going to expedite things. I hope to be working there by the last week in June.

I AM FREE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

And my friend Kevin got some interest in his wifesitter trailer from a producer in LA. Go us!!!!

And lastly, but not least, I talked to my friend Brassy today and he's giving a TED talk in October and I'm invited!!!! Even better, I'm going to visit him in June when I hopefully get some time off before starting my new job. I'm going to hang out with him and his girlfriend Taola who's MOT.

the amazingly stressful race

I just arrived in Temecula, CA. Never heard of it? Join the club. Me either. It's in the middle of nowhere.

So tomorrow I have to teach my class, then get all the laptops packed up, then drive 50 miles to John Wayne airport (if you've never driven in Cali you have no idea how stressful that is - at a drop of a hat a trip can go from taking 30 minutes to taking 3 hours) in time to catch my 6:55 flight to Oakland and somehow I'm supposed to look not tired during my job interview. Ech. I'll be glad when I'm back home in Denver on Wednesday night. For me this is the worst kind of travel. If I miss my flight tomorrow I'm up shit creek without a paddle, at least as far as getting a new job goes...

On a positive note, I bought blueberries to have for dinner and they're really good!

kitchen update

I met with my architect today and am really happy with the drawings she did for my new kitchen. I'm starting to feel better about how it's going to turn out. I think it's going to look really cool. And she made some enhancements on my original drawing so I feel like in the end there was value in bringing her into the project.

And my mom gave me a suggestion on where to put my wine racks and I think that's going to look really nice.

I got almost everyone in my HOA to agree on the new colors for our house. So fucking annoying. I had to hire the contractor, pick out the colors, and then test them to make sure they look nice. Thanks to everyone else in my building for doing nothing. Your welcome for making our building not look like shit.

hiring an intern may NOT save you money

I'm picturing that despair poster:

None of us are as dumb as all of us.

It certainly applies to my company.

It's not just that my new fucking laptop can't display on a projector correctly...why, you might ask...because they put two fucking vid cards in which cause compatibility issues with each other. And the software my company wrote to link to a projector (don't ask why we can't use commercial software - why buy off the shelf when you can make software) doesn't run on Windows 7. So, I have to use the company software but it doesn't work right because they STILL HAVEN'T FUCKING UPGRADED to Windows 7. IT doesn't know how to fix the problem. Great. Because I use a projector like every day and it causes me a lot of problems. I can't do dual display. And the display size that gets rendered on the projector is so huge I can't see my whole desktop. Ridiculous.

Probably the software is being built by interns. Like the fuck nut intern who was supposed to replace the expired license on the VMWare image I use for teaching classes.

You remember that disaster, right? Well, I was supposed to teach another online course next Tuesday. But, once again, they deployed an image with an expired license. I discovered that on Monday. MONDAY people. And the "support" desk said they couldn't, even when given A FUCKING WEEK, copy an unexpired license to the images. And the intern said this fix, which would take TWO FUCKING SECONDS to do, will be fixed "soon". This has been a problem since JANUARY.

So what do you think my company, who cuts corners at every turn when it comes to us consultants, decided to do? They shipped laptops to the customer site with the expired image, then asked if there was a way I could update the license remotely. Hell no. What am I supposed to do, transport myself to the customer site and back the hour before class starts?

So they decided, at 430 yesterday, that I would fly out to teach the class. Now I have to go to Temecula, CA on Monday. Much cheaper to do that than to have the fucking intern do his job (the customer is paying internet rates for an onsite class).

That also botched up my flight arrangements for my job interview on Wednesday. So I had to make these totally convoluted travel arrangements to get to my interview. I hope it goes well after all this.

Oh, and dipshit me left the little GPS holder onto the windshield thing in my rental car in New Orleans yesterday. I blame being fucking exhausted, but really I'm just a dumbass. Hope they sell them somewhere...

the big easy - it's not that easy

New Orleans, at least the part where I'm staying, is kind of el sucko. I'm in a bad neighborhood off of I-10. There are a lot of poles where street signs used to be, but the signs are gone. The roads look destroyed and they're a nest of hard to navigate twists and turns. Have they never heard of the grid pattern down here ya'll?

This consultant that I really don't like is auditing my class (I love the horrified expression on his face when I go off route and do a little experiment) and he takes a taxi to class every day because he's staying in an expensive hotel in the French Quarter that costs 5 times what my hotel costs and he didn't want to bother with a car because taking a taxi ride that lasts a half hour one way is SO MUCH CHEAPER than having a rental car.

This may explain why my company doesn't have enough money to send ME to training.

And this morning apparently the 730 class start time was too early for him. He rolled in around 9. And surprisingly (not!) has a "conference call" and won't be at class until 930 or 10. Yesterday I asked him if he could come early to help me get the class room set up (this is a NORMAL thing auditing consultants do). He said no, maybe because he would have had to meet me at the base at 630.

If he thinks I'm going to cert him to teach this class he should think again.

Luckily my lebanese buddy flies in for the class tomorrow and he's taking me to dinner tomorrow night. Though, that means I have to go to bed early tonight. I didn't sleep at all last night. Think I did my workout too late.

In other good news I have a job interview next Wednesday!!!!!! The company is flying me out to California. Unless everything looks like total shit I'm going to take the job.

And, on top of all of my other nonsense, I've been editing books for two friends, submitted a chapter of my book to a magazine, and am setting myself up for more rejections. Because I <3 rejection!

Oh, and to help my friend Kevin out I've agreed to take an online cooking lesson with a company called Dish Up Today and let him tape me during the lesson for a 5 minute promo video that will be posted on Dish Up's web site. That should be amusing since I'm the worst cook ever. I had a focus group on Saturday with the owner of Dish Up (he bought me lunch). He said he liked all of my ideas. Maybe he was just saying that so I'd be in the video.

smoking and stressed stewardesses

I was sitting at the Calgary airport on Friday reading Barry's first chapter. The book is amazing. I can't wait to read more.

But I was interrupted by this very rude old woman sitting at a table 10 feet away from me. "Can you smoke in here?" she asked me.

"You have to go outside" I said, wondering why she was talking to me.

"Well you need to stop smoking this instance!" she yelled. Everyone else in the lounge turned around to look at me.

"I'm not smoking." I said. I realized she had confused my fake cigarette with a real one but I guess I just felt like being an asshole.

"What's that then?" she asked, pointing at my fake cigarette.

"It's an atomizer." I said. "Real cigarettes smoke. You would be able to smell the smoke. That's how you can tell someone is smoking."

The waitress came over at that point to refill my water glass. The old woman waved her over and asked to to make me either leave or quit smoking. The waitress said I was allowed to fake smoke and that she could reseat her if it bothered her to watch me smoke (fake cigarettes don't really smoke, and there's a faint odor, but the lounge smelled like fried food, so I doubt anyone would notice it).

The old woman went on to comment to her friend and the people at the tables around her "I can't BELIEVE she is doing that in here!" like I was running around on the tops of the tables with my clothes off or something. ANNOYING.

Then the stewardess on my flight home lost her shit when she thought one of the passengers hadn't turned off his kindle during the landing. He tried to show her it was off and she started screaming at him that she could see text (which you can because the kindle has a splash screen when it's off). She kept saying "DON'T YOU DIS-RESPECT ME!!!!!" Then she went to the front of the plane and gave a 5 minute speech about how he had endangered all our lives. Everyone on the plane was laughing.

Ech. Can't believe I have to fly again tomorrow...

pizza joke

It was great to see Barry (dude has his own wikipedia page!) last night. I haven't seen him since we were artists in residence in the Banff writing program. I remember being terrified of him until he started making fart jokes. We ended up assigned in offices next to one another. I never got a damn thing written when Barry was around.

We'd agree to meet at the offices at 8 am. Barry was always lugging around a big bag of slides. I would work for about 15 minutes before he would interrupt me to come look at cool slides. Then he would try to get me to show him one of my tattoos or a scar. Then he would pretend he was going to let me work. Then he would come into my office and eat some of my smarties (new jersey, not UK).

We'd take a smoke break and he'd smoke one of my gauloise cigarettes even though he doesn't smoke. We'd go back into the office and he would say he was hungry and we would go to the cafeteria to get something to eat. He always ran into someone he knew. Before I realized it, it would be afternoon and I'd have to cram 6 hours of writing into 1.

He just got a book deal with Patagonia, but he has to finish writing his book by the fall. He's a little nervous about that. Which I can understand. I finished my book 2 years after the deadline I was supposed to meet to get published. He was feeding me shit about being the only person in the Banff program that failed to get published. Ech.

So I fed him shit about his recent knee problems. He's not sure what's wrong with his right knee but it had a lot of fluid in it when I looked at it. Hopefully it's not a meniscal tear. He's going to e-introduce me to a friend of his in New Zealand that just got a new kind of mechanical knee. Apparently she does all the shit she used to do before the surgery. I'd hate to give up my zombie knee for a fake knee unless the fake knee would allow me to run without pain.

We went to an italian restaurant for dinner. He ate the biggest vegetable salad ever and then a special that had clams in it. It was like clams and vegetables, which looked as weird as it sounds. I ate half my salad and some raviolis which I couldn't finish. He ate the rolls, which I called "penis rolls" because they looked really phallic. The waiter said "I can tell you're from out of town because you're sunburned". Love that Calgary weather. Though the sun was out today.

Barry's going to help me make some vids to promote my book if it ever comes out. Which will be fun, insane, and potentially R-rated if he takes me climbing on some scary shit. He got to work on the new Jason Bourne movie and we were laughing about that. Barry is hardly Hollywood.

Joke of the night:

What's the difference between a professional climber and an extra large pizza?

An extra large pizza can feed a family of four.

we really ARE born to run

Sitting in a strange hotel in Calgary, waiting for my friend Barry to get here so we can go to dinner...

I came across this article on NPR about how there is now scientifically proven information about "runner's high".

And for those who think I'M crazy - it's not just me. It's all runners.

"Morganti injured herself running two years ago and had to stop running. "And everything else fell apart," she admits. "My ability to cope with the stresses of life, my organizational skills juggling your job and motherhood, everything like that, wasn't as acute as it was when I was able to run and be fit."

And:

"Morganti treats runners for injuries, and she says they're the worst patients. "The treatment is to stop running," she says. "They won't. They don't want to. A lot of the behavior is not unlike the patients we have who are seeking drugs. It's really similar. It's an addiction.""

a new holiday?

I dragged my friend Kevin along on a hike today at Roxborough, since he lives right by it and has never been. We did Carpenter's Peak. I had fun, I think for Kevin it was more like the Bataan death march.

Anyway, we were hungry when we finished so we stopped at the safeway shopping center near the park. Choices of food were mexican and asian. We opted for asian as neither of us are huge mexican food fans (that is, the american version of mexican food).

As we were looking at the menu Kevin said something about not wanting to eat "fucking mexican food on Cinco de Mayo". Then he said "we're eating chinese food - it's chink-o de mayo".

The waiter was kind of like "um, what?" but Kevin didn't notice because he was busy texting his gay room mate, who responded "I fucking hate mexican food".

The end.

I'm getting Kevin into shape so we can do Bierstadt. Maybe by June if he keeps working out every day. He's a vegan now and has already lost some weight. Of course, he had extreme difficulty getting out of my car when I dropped him at his house. Something about a sore toe and a jacked up ankle. He'll live.

See you at the top!

a response from the editor who rejected me!

I sent a follow up email to the senior editor who rejected my book asking if he had any suggestions of publishers that might be interested in my book. And he actually responded today! So I'm going to follow up on his leads this weekend.

Maybe something will come of them...

ya'll talk too fast

In a small town near Memphis, TN, teaching.

I haven't been in the south in a while...

First I was told to stop "running in the hallway". I was walking at my normal pace.

Then I was told "ya'll talk too fast". I've tried to slow down and pretend I'm speaking to someone who just learned english.

And when a student asks me a question when I've just written the information on the white board someone else in the class says "readin's fer the rich".

Rowdy group of 12 DoD personnel. I managed to make it on base even though I went in the wrong gate (worst directions from the customer and the location isn't on the map or locatable through GPS). Unlike the east coast bases they didn't try to shoot me.

It's raining on and off so my hair looks insane. But that's not really new.

And, after SIX FUCKING MONTHS they STILL have not fixed the expired licenses on the VMWare image I teach on. So I got to spend my lunch hour updating 12 computers. ANNOYING. I really hate my company sometimes.

desperate times call for desparate measures

In the interest of forging ahead with my book (thanks to all at the pitch fest who sent words of encouragement! I super appreciate it!!!!!!!) I've been up to a few things this week.

1. I made some more edits to the colossal cringle crisp caper and am looking for kid's book contests.
2. I found a magazine that's having a writing contest and I'm going to enter my gimps on rock story. Chance of publication is probably a little larger than zero, but that's okay.
3. I met a woman at digifest this weekend who's a retired editor from Random House (she moved here from NYC last year to take care of her mom). I was talking to her about my memoir and she said she is also working on a memoir and was approached by an agent that she decided not to go with (she got an A list agent instead which would be impossible for me as an unknown writer). Anyway, she thinks that agent might be interested in me. So when she gets back from a trip she's on I am supposed to send her my query letter and a sample chapter, which she will pass on to a friend who's still at Random House, hoping that friend will then pass my work onto the agent.

Crazy, I know. Don't worry, I'm not getting my hopes up that this will be anything more than another trip down the rabbit hole.

But if I don't go I'll never know what could have happened...

the STUPIDEST english word EVER

As usual, the only person in my four person unit that does anything for the common areas is me. I asked the guy next door to schedule for someone to come out and turn on the sprinklers (since he had to be home because he's the only one without keypad entry to his backyard and I don't want to try to coordinate between him and the lawn service). You would have thought I asked him to build me a replica of the Titanic with pixie sticks.

He's also the supreme douche fuck who sent me a nasty email about traveling too much. And the guy who's dogs barked so much that I seriously considered kidnapping them.

Anyway, we need someone to cut our common area grass because the two guys who own lawn mowers refuse to spend 10 minutes every other week cutting it. I started looking for a contractor on craig's list because if I didn't do it no one would.

I found a guy who offered us a rate of $45 (ridiculous) to cut our grass bi-weekly (in our discussion, that was every two weeks). I sent an email out to the HOA members asking what they thought. Douche responded back "we don't need our grass cut twice a week". I was like "I know, it's for every two weeks". He responded "So you mean BI-MONTHLY instead of BI-WEEKLY".

Now, I've been using the term "bi-weekly" for a long time. And it's always meant "every other week". So I was going to send him a link to dictionary.com to show him he was wrong. Instead I found this:

bi-weekly

   [bahy-week-lee] Show IPA adjective, noun, plural bi·week·lies, adverb

adjective

1.

occurring every two weeks.

2.

occurring twice a week; semiweekly.

noun

3.

a periodical issued every other week.

adverb

4.

every two weeks.

5.

twice a week.

 

What kind of stupid fucking shit is THAT? A word that can mean the opposite of its meaning? 

 

Someone should fix that.

 

 

but she has a key to my house, and may knife me in my sleep

Today I learned a valuable lesson.

I've been avoiding my friend, who is also my hairdresser, because I was afraid she would flip the fuck out about my deva haircut that I got from someone that wasn't her.

But she invited me to lunch today, and I decided to 'fess up. I said I would meet her for lunch and then admitted I had gotten my hair cut somewhere else. I thought I would mention it to her in email to prepare her, and to give her an opportunity to tell me to go fuck myself and not meet her for lunch after all.

But she ended up doing some research on deva, and was so impressed with my hair she said she's going to get her hair cut at Voila when she gets back from a trip she's taking to Sri Lanka.

Huh. Not the reaction I expected at all.

But I'm glad I told her and I'm glad she's not mad at me. And she said I've been a really good friend to her and helped her through some tough times.

So. Go me!

just add boobs and, what the hell, some dinosaurs

Me (in an email to my family about my book getting rejected):

Rejected.

My brother Steve:

This isn’t bad news.  He is saying she liked your book but it has a narrow audience focus.  So if you can expand your audience then they are interested, otherwise look for someone that deals in a niche.  So what can you do to expand your audience?  Get a camera crew to follow you around anywhere, doing anything or add in a lot of research and background material to draw the reader in and make them care about you or your situation.

Me:

I could add a villain who is also part zombie. Or take out all the pictures of my knee and replace them with naked women.

Steve:

Maybe you could get trapped under a boulder and cut your knee out with a  broken Leatherman.  Zombie are overdone these days, I think dinosaurs are due for a comeback.  How about you bleed onto a fossil and it comes to life.

 

 He's so pragmatic. Meanwhile my Uncle Joe did some research and found a publishing company that publishes books like mine. I'm going to get my submission in to them tomorrow.

rejected!

Random House passed on my book:

Dear Franki:

 

Thanks for letting us take a look at your material. As a runner with a bum knee, I read this with interest and found it quite riveting, not to mention harrowing.

 

A few people read with interest but ultimately it was decided that this book might better reach its target audience with a more specialized publisher with a greater outreach to the fitness community.

 

I did enjoy this look, and I wish you all the best with this.

 

Oh well.  Maybe he'll (the editor who rejected me) have some ideas on where else to send my book.

someone who has a lot of time to make costumes

Some clips from the digifest costume contest...

I wouldn't invite this person to a costume party unless you have a great costume too.

 

And, a guy proposes. That was weird. I guess Kevin and I are too cynical...

 

suicidal batman

Some clips from the digifest costume contest...

I appreciate that some people can spend 200 days making a costume for a 2 day event. But. For real?

This, as far as I could make out, is a suicidal batman.

digifest

This weekend I was arrested by storm troopers, threatened by an asian themed steampunk pirate, assaulted by a robot, and amused by walking speakers.

Digifest. It was fun.

The storm trooper was like "PUT YOUR HANDS BEHIND YOUR HEAD!". I was like dude, it's just a picture.

Asian steampunk meets pirate. That knife is very sharp. I asked if he used it in the kitchen to chop onions and he looked at me like he thought I was really stupid.

The walking speaker heads.

Oh NO! ROBOTS! That's my mentee writer Jonathan in the hat in the background.

Zombies take a break from spreading the virus to answer text messages.

These guys invaded the lobby. Scary.

This car was once parked in my neighborhood!!!!

deva

For the past few years I seem to have been in a constant state of hair crisis. It's not easy to manage an afro.

But today I made an appointment with a stylist named Jess who is an expert in curly hair. She gave me the best haircut I've had in years. AND she taught me how to style it with these little pins so I never have to use a hair dryer again (I am sort of afraid of hair dryers and terrified of curling irons - seriously, if someone puts a curling iron close to my head I start to hypervenilate - I was burned badly on the ear with a curling iron when I was young). Check out the salon, it's owned by a former olympic snow boarder who works at the front desk and is super nice.

Jess also introduced me to a great product line called Deva. It's made for african americans but blondes can use it too. If my hair looks this good at altitude I wonder what will happen when I go to Tennessee in a few weeks...

Not exactly a professional photographer

Denver - making pink slime with dynamite?

How can you not read an article that starts out with the sentence:

It may take explosives to dislodge a group of cows that wandered into an old ranger cabin high in the Rocky Mountains, then died and froze solid when they couldn't get out.

Um, hamburger anyone?

the jagger smile

Perhaps my brain momentarily short circuited after spending 15 minutes looking at kitchen cabinets (that's a long time isn't it?).

Last night I dreamed I was at an ocean resort. I was in the lobby of the hotel, which was really dark, so I decided to go up to a terrace on the second story. I was sitting at a table looking out at the ocean when...Mick Jagger walked up to me. He said "I need a key to the room" and I was like "um what?" and he said "I want to change" and I was like "what are your clothes doing in my room?" He said "we've been hanging out together all week!" I was like "we have????" and he said "that's why I like hanging out with you, you forget everything!"

He walked away and I noticed the waves were picking up in the ocean so I went out to the parking lot, which was just a flat, boring parking lot, and moved the rental car to a street. Then I went back into the hotel and up to the terrace and Mick Jagger was sitting at a table drinking lemonade and he was like "I ordered you a lemonade. Where did you go?"

I told him I had moved the car and he said I was being silly but then we looked at the ocean and the waves were getting huge and they were flooding the parking lot. All these cops showed up in black uniforms and black hats and wouldn't let anyone move their cars. So Mick Jagger was like "you saved our car!" and I was like "but we have to get out of here because the water is rising". Mick Jagger didn't want to leave because he was finishing his drink but I grabbed him by the arm and started pulling him across the veranda.

The water was getting higher and the waves were breaking over the veranda and Mick Jagger said "you have to save me because I can't swim". Then I was like oh great, I haven't been swimming in a long time and now Mick Jagger is going to drown because I won't be able to save him and no one will believe I ever hung out with him.

Fucked up.

a bit of truth about my refrigerator

Sarah wasn't being mean about my refrigerator. It is pretty pathetic:

I do eat out a lot, how did you guess?

The freezer is even more pathetic.

I guess I know more about architecture than architects

My architect came today to talk to me about my kitchen remodeling plans. I'm not sure we will see eye to eye on everything. Her book of projects totally fits my style. But, I did have moments of doubt. Like this:

Sarah: we could put the refrigerator here, and if it had paneling, it would look like a cabinet

Me: but, it's a refrigerator

Sarah: but people like to cover the refrigerator so it looks like a cabinet

Me: but then wouldn't it look like I didn't have a refrigerator in my kitchen?

Sarah: no, because people know you have a refrigerator

Me: so why would I make it look like a cabinet?

Sarah: so you don't see your appliances

Me: but I'm not covering my oven and dishwasher with paneling, so don't you think the refrigerator might feel bad, like "what's wrong with me that I get covered up with a cabinet? it's because I'm fat and ugly!" Then little tears would leak out the ice maker.

Sarah: refrigerators don't think

Me: mine might, if I get one with a robot in it
Sarah: (after looking in my refrigerator) doesn't look like you need a refrigerator anyway. You just need a coke dispensing machine.

She's going to give me a sketch of her idea for the redesign in a few days. She says my problem is I can't visualize stuff. I hope that's true.

calling all creative spirits who like rockets!!!!!

I have been so enjoying the stories about the N Korean rocket that fell apart. I'm not being mean spirited. It's just that anyone with half a fucking brain knows the future is not about weapons that are material. It's about hackers and software. All the weapons in the world aren't going to save you if they get hacked because every weapon system has...embedded software! And they don't work without it.

Anyway, tonight on a late conf call with my customer I decided I'm going to build the next gen N Korean rocket tomorrow based on shit I have around my house. If you build one and send me a picture I'll post it (c'mon Bob and Steve, it will be FUN).

This project is not in any way an excuse for putting off my other, more practical project, which is to install a new black out screen I bought for my huge front window that I tried to put up today but got the brackets mis-aligned.

Ech. Fucking straight lines.

more entertaining than taxes

A bunch of people at work are taking Thursday and Friday off to do their taxes.

Seriously?

One word: accountant. Paying someone to do your taxes is tax deductible. I haven't done my own taxes since 1994.

Then I was reminded of my shoe calculation spreadsheet (how to calculate the total number of shoes you can reasonably own. More entertaining than taxes.

mile high geeking

Technologically speaking this has been a productive week for me.

I finally re-imaged my old desktop that I use to connect to the internet and cleaned everything off of it. Today I installed a repeater and boosted my wireless from 71% (damn brick walls!) to 91% Also, my tablet is screaming fast accessing the internet.

And I received my new samsung laptop today which has 6, yeah 6, GB of RAM. It's screaming fast. And sexy. I love it.

And on my online meeting today I came up with a way for my customer to seamlessly manage his stories (he does scrum development) through a tricked out report. Seriously, he was so excited he told me he loved me.

Which he doesn't. He's married.

But he loves enterprise architecture and the tool I support. I've rarely met anyone so interested in the arcane details of architecture. I name drop people you've never heard of (like Grady Booch, who lives in Colorado BTW). Today I talked to him for an hour about structured and unstructured methods and he took notes. Usually no one cares when I talk about math related anything.

Maybe my customer has a bit of a brain crush on me. It happens. I've never met him in real life.

It's weird, speaking of love. I love writing, but I love being an engineer. To become an engineering fellow at my company would be as great, if not better, than being a best selling author, though no one but me would give a shit.

That's some fucked up goals. Like wanting to be a great programmer and a luddite at the same time...

wouldn't you like to be my neighbor...but live really far away from me

As the president of my HOA (I live in a row house with three other units in it). I have a few annoying responsibilities, like trying to get people to pay their dues, cleaning up the trash out front because the other people don't do it, pruning bushes, shoveling snow, etc.

My neighbor, who is a first class dick (I put up with his dogs barking for two years before he finally did something, and that only after we almost had a physical altercation), was in charge last year of getting our house painted since I was traveling too much to do it and he thought the four contractors I had out to get estimates gave estimates that were too high. He, of course, failed to get the house painted.

Two years ago he was "in charge" of getting our decks rebuilt because once again he thought the contractors I found were charging too much. I did all the research on decking material, rails, colors, etc. Let's see, what did he have to do? Get an estimate. Let people into my garage since I wasn't home when the decks were rebuilt. Let's just call him asshole.

The other day I sent this out:

We should probably make a decision about painting the house this summer. If we don't I think we should at least have some stucco work done and replace the front lights.

Asshole responded:

Let's paint and fix everything.  It has been to long.  Frankie, do you want to spear head this?  

The woman in the end unit sent:

Asshole, do you still have the paint sample we chose from the selection I brought to our meeting last spring?  

Asshole: 

Not sure, I will look for it.

Then:

Did we all sign off on this color???  I don't remember...

 

Finally, I really need you all to take an active role in your property.  Not living at your house or being gone frequently is not acceptable.  We all have busy lives and you need to do something.  I will not be stuck organizing and taking care of everyone properties again through this project.  Franki, as you have access to the bank account, lets us know where we stand.

 

I was like WHAT THE FUCK? He never even shovels when it snows. He insisted the HOA pay $75 to have a lawn service rake up our leaves because I was out of town and he was too lazy to do it. "Organizing and taking care of everyone's properties" - fucking WHATEVER. The guy does NOTHING.

 

I wrote:

 

Yes, the colors were signed off on at the last HOA meeting we had.

Everyone has access to the bank account through the internet. And Asshole, you should be receiving monthly statements. I can switch the address back to mine if that's easier*. And they should have mailed you an ATM card to access the account. The PIN for it as well as the bank access information is in the HOA PDF that I sent out a few years ago. There's a copy in the HOA files.

 

I hope he moves soon and someone cool moves in. It's annoying to be the only person that can get shit done, on top of not being thanked for it, and on top of his snarky comments about me traveling all the time. No really, I'd much rather be in an Holiday Inn in New Jersey than home, you fucking fuckwit. 

*I had them mailed to him when I went to the middle east

 

IKEA cult

I got up early on Monday so I could get into IKEA as soon as it opened to look at kitchen cabinets. I figured, Monday after a holiday...who would be at IKEA?

Answer: old people walking really slow and women with baby carriages blocking the aisles. Ech.

I haven't been to IKEA since the debacle of helping my friend Con Way who was in the midst of redoing his apartment and getting crushed by 600 lbs of closet doors.

I forgot how insane the place is. People every where, weird music playing, and these announcements made over the loudspeaker that make me think of The Prisoner or what I imagine a cult would be like.

I ran, almost literally, through a bunch of kitchens before I found cabinets I liked. I opened every cabinet and decided it was time to leave IKEA. I don't think I'll go back there alone and unarmed. They didn't have the raspberry cookies I like. Boo hoo.

Then today my contractor Neal came by to give me an estimate on redoing my kitchen and I'm probably going to go with cabinets from his cabinet guy because they're easier to customize. When all was said and done I agreed to let him redo my downstairs bathroom and my floors as well. That leaves only the gas fireplace and all the projects in my house are...

...no, better not say it. The house might be listening.

I'm meeting with an architect who's going to draw up some designs for me. This project is scary but it will be nice when it's done!

bike bitterness, which is not as dangerous as road rage

Spring has sprung, at least until the next snow storm, and all the mother fuckers were out on the bike trail today. Dammit, shouldn't you be celebrating easter and cooking dinner and shit?

Apparently there are a lot of fuckwads who don't understand the rules of a bike trail. So, here's a few for those who ingested paint chips or lack common sense:

-It's called a bike path because it's for BIKES. That's why there's a pedestrian path for PEDESTRIANS. Why are you and your eight spastic kids walking on the BIKE PATH and running in front of my bike and not yielding at least part of the path so I can get past your annoying asses?
-I believe I may be the only biker who says "on your right" so people will know I'm about to pass. It's annoying when a group of racers blows past me. It's also annoying when people don't yield. Get your fucking cruiser out of Jake the Snake's way or you will have a tire up your ass. This is particularly meant for that fucker redneck guy who refused to yield on the trail when I told him I was passing. Three times I tried to pass him and he purposely blocked my way. Finally I passed him on an uphill turn (nice to have a lot of gears) and he tried to swerve into me, then yelled "passing on a turn is dangerous!" (guess he's never seen the tour de france).
-A bike trail is bi-directional by design. You ride out for a while, then you come back. This isn't England. Ride on your side of the trail so I don't have to slam on my brakes coming around a turn because you are riding on the wrong side of the trail.
-Dogs not on leashes are not cool. Believe that I will have no remorse if your hinky dog runs at my front tire seconds before I pass him and I run him over. Also, walking on one side of the trail, and having your dog on the other, with the leash stretching across the trail is a good way to cause a massive accident. If you're that fucking stupid you shouldn't have a pet. and you should be on a leash.

Guess I'll have to go back to not riding on the weekends. During the week days the riders are less stupid.