Never happy.

As an 18 year old  whipper snapper from Idaho Falls, Idaho, I went to bootcamp for the US Army in Ft. Knox, Kentucky.  And do you know what? Of all of the life tidbits that I learned in that nine week training, I learned that Privates like to complain.  The Drill Sergeant would say in that "I am the all mighty adult figure that will teach you life lessons and boil them down into easily remembered rhythmic sayings" voice,

"Ey, Senior Drill, you ever heard a group a Privates that complains this much?" And Senior Drill would reply,

"Naw, Drill...They don't know how good they have it."

I just assumed that the Drills were right, Privates were in fact, not happy unless they were complaining.  Everyone was always complaining....

And everyone is still always complaining.  I know what you are thinking,

Fantastic, a blog complaining about people complaining, but, stick with me here...

Let's take a couple of real life examples...(the names of the complainers will be replaced with animal names to protect these annoying bastards)....

Lemur: Uugggghhhh, my son is playing baseball this year, and I just found out that they have practices Monday, Wednesday, Friday from 5:30 to 6:30.  Could that time be anymore inconvenient? I have tennis on Wednesdays!  Uuggggghhhhh.

Here's the deal, Lemur.  Your son playing baseball is a positive development, and you should be happy about it.  Baseball will teach him teamwork and will otherwise keep him out of trouble.  You, as a parent, should be more than willing (and happy) to load up the Nissan Altima that smells like sex in a bowling alley, and take the little fella to baseball practice.  And if you aren't...you probably should have thought of that before you had a freaking kid.

Tarantula: I hate this job.  I hate my house.  I hate everyone that works here.  I hate the sound of so and so talking on the phone, blah, blah, blah...

My internal response: Get a different job if you hate this one so much.  If you don't hate it enough to get a different job, then you either don't hate it or you are lazy.  Do you know how many people would love to have your job?  You sit inside at a desk all day, and balance a big ass check book.  Then answer questions about stuff in the check book.  You may not be a rockstar, but then again, something tells me you would hate that, too. Make your house the way you want it, or move.  If you don't, you either don't hate it or you are lazy.  Do you know how many people would love to live in your house?  Moving on...You hate everyone that works here?  Now, this is getting ridiculous...what don't you hate? Answer: Cookies and cake. And...now, I'm zoned out...nice talking to you.  (Headphones on.)

My external response: That sucks, man.  (Headphones on.)

The majority of us, especially the ones of us fortunate enough to have access to a computer and with worries small enough to either write about or read about something as petty as the subject of this blog, have nothing to complain about. Because, the majority of the problems we complain about are not only small in the big scheme of things, but also solvable. 

The point of the story is this: Don't worry about what you don't have, just appreciate what you do have.  And if you are unhappy with something in your life, change it.  You control your decisions and your life, so if you don't like it, change it.  Stop feeling sorry for yourself.

So, that being said, I will follow my own advice, be accountable for my mood and actions, and change my trajectory.  I see you lookin' at me Madmen Season 4...I see you workin'.

Tom out.

Semi-Failed Blog Swap...

Allow me a small introduction.  20somethingbloggers hosted/suggested a blog swap, I signed up, then promptly went on to fail in providing my partner a blog by the deadline of December 20th.  I sent my post today, so we'll see if my partner will have me back long enough to put my post up...without further ado, I present to you the smooth words of Samantha, from Zombie Sharknet.  Her latest post is this one, because I failed her...but you should check out the other posts, too...

Oh golly. This is an interesting one. I could go the traditional route and go on about how I’ve always wanted to get fit, but that would make for a ridiculously boring post so I’ll steer clear of that one. Let me think...

I have been putting off a lot of things. It’s kind of what I do (and don’t you dare lie and say you don’t do it too, because I can tell by the look in your little eyeballs that you’re exactly the same), so there are quite a few things to choose from.

A year and a half ago I started a course in Parapsychology, which I have yet to really begin. It’s via distance education, so it’s not like I’ve been wagging class and smoking behind the bike sheds instead of sitting down and getting stuck in so DON’T JUDGE ME! Ready for the excuses? I work full time. Sure, my job is boring and I never have enough work to do and could do my assignment then, but I’m always so tired, and when I’m bored at work I have NO motivation for assignments. I’m also doing a course for work that I have assignments for and they’re more important than this one, and I don’t have time to do two lots of assignments. I did bring all of my assignment paperwork to work so I could attempt to do it, but I haven’t gotten that far yet. AT LEAST I’M TRYING!

Yup. So uh, I should probably get onto that next year.

I’ve also been putting off that whole “get a new job” thing. I really don’t enjoy my job. As I mentioned before, I don’t really have a lot of work to do and that, my friends, is one of my biggest pet peeves. I amuse myself by having staring contests with the walls (they ALWAYS win! You’d think they’d let me win at least once, but noooo) and finding bugs in the office and making up amazing back stories for them. One killed himself in my coffee a few weeks ago because his wife left him and he lost him job. Poor fellow just couldn’t hack it.

Lately I’ve been writing letters to friends that usually feature a stupendous stick figure drawing. I know guys, you wish you could have a letter like that, but I just can’t write to everyone you know. But what I’m saying is: instead of overdosing on coffee, running off to the toilet every two minutes due to said coffee intake, finding insects and befriending them and singing songs about how crap my job is, I SHOULD DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT AND FIND A NEW JOB!

While I will miss my little bug friends, I think finding a job I’ll be happy in will make up for it. The hard thing is finding that new job though, and I have a feeling that it will be quite the difficult task. Like seriously, this is stressing me out more than trying to think of new names for my bugs, and that’s a pretty stressful task. For realsies.

What else? Hm. Oh yes. QUIT SMOKING, YOU DIRTY TRAMP. I’ve told my boyfriend that in March I shall quit, so I now have to follow through with that. I am not looking forward to it. Smoking is horrendous, I know this, but it helps me feel less anxious and awkward and gives me something to do with my hands when I’m nervous. I sure am full of excuses today. I’ll be off to Thailand in a week, so I can’t go giving up smoking now when I can buy a packet of cancerous goodness for $2! Yeah, I know, cheap right? I’m sadly excited.

That my friends, is what I need to get a move on with next year. You know, when I get back from Thailand and have recovered from all the relaxing I’ll be doing. Oh my god, this post is basically me whining all about shit I need to do to. Ah, you asked little ones, whether you know it or not, so leave me to wallow in self pity and maybe I’ll motivate my face to get a move on. MAYBE. I’m not promising you anything, so if I don’t go ahead with anything you can’t get mad at me because I haven’t promised! Ha!

Alright, I shall hand Ninja In A Mazda his blog back. I’m sure he’ll want to discuss my post in detail, and chronicle how it made him feel every step of the way. Or maybe he’ll just forget that this whole thing ever happened by getting rip roaringly drunk and passing out for a week and then continuing on with his blog as usual. Either way, I’m happy. Goodbye cupcakes.

FAQ

Factually Accurate Quips?  Foreign Assignment Queries?  Functionally Allowed Quantities?  Flying African Quails?  Family Activity Quotas?  Formidable ......enough.  It means Frequently Asked Questions, and they are a prime opportunity for the answers of the questions to get in one last plug...like....

Q: What do I do if my PC will not recognize my Verizon High Speed Wireless Internet Card?
A: At Verizon Wireless, we believe in high-quality, excellent products.  If your quality Verizon High Speed Wireless card is not being recognized by your PC, restart the PC.  If the problem persists, call the industry leading Verizon Wireless customer hot line at 1-800-Talli-Ban.

So, here is my first installment of Frequently Asked Questions.  These are questions that I have been asked quite frequently recently, and I assure you that my FAQs only have one agenda:  To verbally express my opinions, find other people that share those opinions, and form a gang of liked minded people large enough to require membership cards and a logo.  Pretty innocent, right?

Q: Why do you have a mustache?

A: Well, let me answer your question with a question.  Why do you want dudes to suffer and die from prostate cancer?  Because, I don't.  And I mean I don't want to suffer and die from prostate cancer and I don't want anyone else to either.  I'm not sure how long this has been going on, but every year, in the 11th month, people everywhere sport some upper lip carpet to "Change the face of men's health".  Check it out.  Also, I just bought an ice cream truck full of chloroform, so I thought this was the appropriate uniform.


Q: We are going to the Ram for lunch, do you want to go?
A: Absolutely not.  First, this would be a work function, which means my ordering a beer instead of a freaking Diet Coke with lemon will be frowned upon.  Secondly, the likelihood of me ordering something that I will enjoy is about as likely as our group receiving customer service that could even generously be labeled as "almost average".  And finally, that place (and most restaurants) are reverse gyms.  People go there, and if they are dedicated enough, they get fatter.  In fact, I think I have made a New Years resolution in the past to eat at out less often and to go to the gym more often.  I believe the typical life cycle of resolutions like this include, but are not limited to:  two and half weeks of diligent adherence (with Thursday and Friday of the third week off as a reward).  After three weeks, it is back to crushing half pound burgers covered in hickory smoked bacon (add $.75) and moving the gym bag from the car to the kitchen, but still feeling guilty about the infidelity to the resolution.  After four weeks, the gym bag moves back to the closet where it emerged from five weeks ago, and watching The Biggest Loser has officially taken the place of hitting the treadmill.  Sooo, no thank you.

Q: How has the British Pound performed compared to the US Dollar this year?
A: Pretty well, recently.  At the beginning of the year, the rate was around 1.62, but fell over 8% through August, which is when it started to recover.  At the end of November, it is nearly back to where it was at the beginning of the year.  The Pound's journey thus far in 2010 is not unlike the journey of one Mike Vick.  There are certainly obvious differences, and I am no currency expert, but I'm confident in saying that the Pound's decline through the middle months of this year were not due to the currency's conviction on federal dog fighting charges.  Equally, it's recovery has nothing to do with Vick's capacity to stay down, hit the film room, and be the player that Atlanta hoped he would become when they drafted him in 2001.

Tom out.

February 28, 2009...

...was the first time I ever wrote a blog.  It still exists on the Interwebs, but I have brought it here for you.  I cannot recall what was going on at the time, but I like it, so I am reposting it..for my 120 Facebook friends to read and my 17 followers to read...

"Since we were kids, we have been asked and expected to set goals. Since we were kids, we have had goals set for us. The most basic and common example is, "What do you want to be when you grow up?"

It seems that this question is usually related to an occupation. When I was young, I always thought I wanted to be a professional athlete. A general lack of natural size and ability has hinder that pipe dream. What drew me to that occupation? Well, I always thought there could be nothing better. You play a game for a living.

Even now, people ask what where I see my career going. They are still asking me what I want to be when I grow up. I still don't know that answer. But, I do know one thing. Under no circumstances does what I am professionally define what I am when I grow up.

What do I want to be when I grow up?

I want to be honest regardless of the situation.
I want to be a good friend.
I want to help Katie be what she wants to be when she grows up.
I want to be me no matter who is standing next to me.

BUT, I also realize that these things are easy for me to say, because I have a job. I have a career path, even if I don't know exactly what it is. Since I don't have to worry about money right now, I can focus on what I want to be, in non-monetary terms. It's like Kanye says, "Havin money isn't everything, not having it is."

Since everything is what you make it, life is a matter of your perspective. Sure, you could have more. But, you could have less. Your life could be much better. But, it could be much worse. I wish everyone could keep that in mind when they complain about not getting paid enough, when they complain about the neighbor's dog barking, when they complain about how shitty their lives are.

Your life is not shitty. Your perspective on your life is shitty. If a person changes that perspective, even if everything looks the same from the outside, that person's life is different."

You alls is (road) trippin, boo.

Katie and I have traveled a bit since Memorial Day. Summer.  That is what you call that time period between Memorial Day and now.  Moving on from the lesson on seasons...The Ninja's Mazda has crested 193,000 miles.  The vast majority of those miles have been on the one and only Interstate 84 (I-84).  Mostly, my fellow drivers are respectful, and as fueled by common road courtesies as by 89 octane.  That being said, I have a few observations and questions for my other road dwellers.

1. So, orange 2009 Dodge Calibers don't have cruise control?  That is why you have passed me, then slowed down 4 times in the last hour, right?
2. Where are you from that it is okay to do that?  You know - pretending that I wasn't traveling at least 10 mph faster than you when you decided to change lanes to take 13 minutes to pass the big rig that is going...the same...speed...that you are.
3. Don't text and drive.  Even Kansas City Chiefs rookie running back, Dexter McCluster, agrees with me.
4. I see that your family consists of two big stick people, one medium sized stick person, a small stick baby, and two stick dogs.
5. I was going to ride your ass for the next ten miles, until I saw that "Back off - I have kids" sticker.  Well played.  Note:  This sticker was the inspiration for my new sticker: "Back off - I ate some leftovers earlier".
6. Why are you looking at me like that?  I'm not the one with a confederate flag on my back window.
7.  $25 a year.  Maybe $35 a year.  I may or may not alienate one of the 17 faithful, awesome people that at one time have enjoyed something I wrote with this one.  Vanity plates are just about the biggest waste of money I can think of.  I'm not talking about the ones that support a university or breast cancer research - I'm talking about the ones that identify a 1997 Chevy Suburban as "CRAIGZ" or inform everyone that the dude driving his PT Cruiser is "JUSCRZN".  Simply stated, someone paid the state of New York extra money to put this (see pic below) on his/her license plate.

 Tom out.

Nosebleed Section

Since I've come into my own as a beacon of financial responsibility and sound decision making, I've thought that the equation was simple: $ earned - $ spent >0.  And for the mathematically challenged, the words version of that is spend less than you make.  It's pretty simple.  That, plus "If you can't pay cash for it, don't buy it." has lead to Katie and I's moderate financial security.  Now I realize that just like all of the great economic models and theories, I have assumed away the human element.

You know, the element that says, "Well, I can't really afford a new TV, but Best Buy has 0% financing for the first year and I will pay it off before than and the dude next door just got one".  And don't forget the human element that says, "The bank preapproved me for a $600K loan, and even though I can't afford a $3,500 monthly mortgage payment, the bank is smarter than me, and has no incentive to sell me a mortgage that isn't in my best interest, I am going to buy this bastard." (And I'm not sure sure whether it is more the bank's fault or the person's fault, so I will say that both parties were irresponsible, greedy, and disappointing.)  And finally, the human element that says, "I got a bloody nose, it has been bleeding for over an hour, blood is coming out of my tear ducts, I shuld probably go to the emergency room."  I've heard that medical expenses are the #1 cause of bankruptcies, but I had never personally been raped by tha fact until May 24, 2010.

What started out as a simple sprinkler system repair, turned out to be an activity that proves that ninjas DO get bloody noses.  As I wrestled with PVC snakes hidden in a filthy plastic lined hole in my front yard, my nose started to bleed.  A few hours later, I was in the hosptial, watching Game 5 of the Celtics/Magic series, having crazy inflatable tampon deals shoved in my nostril to remain there for two days.  I am all for having reasons to not go to work, but staying home for two days because I have a tampon in my nose is a little ridiculous.  I knew going to the emergency room was going to be expensive, so as I recovered, I dreaded getting that bill in the mail.  Examine Exhibit A...the bill for stopping my bloody nose.

$865?!?  As written on a check, eight hundred sixty five and xx/100 dollars.  The craziest part is when I tell most people about this, they are not even shocked.  "Sounds about right" is the most common response.  Well, I beg to differ good sir, that does not sound about right.  It sounds about absurd.  Like myself, I'm sure you are wondering what could possibly cost that much, so please see Exhibit B, the less than satisfying breakdown of charges.

Emergency room....$529
Professional services...$336...Now, if I am paying $336 for professional services, I better be getting a new transmission or a Z job.  (If you have to ask, you can't afford it).  Thank goodness I have health insurance to pay for this calamity.  As inevitable as it seems that this blog will end up having a political agenda, that isn't really my intent.  True, I do think that the healthcare system seems to have something wrong with it, but I don't really have a solution, and until I do, I will keep my mouth shut on that one. 

This is more about me learning first hand how expensive medical bills can be.  Seriously, if a bloody nose costs a grand (Taking the huge, terrible, inflatable tampon monster out of my nose was an additional $60 and my appointment at the ear, nose, and throat doctor was another who knows how much), how much does a pregnancy cost?  How much does a single car rollover on the freeway cost when the driver has to be Med Evac'ed to the hospital cost?  How does someone pay for that without health insurance?  For me, one of the things that I have always considered simple is knowing how to manage your own money.  Spend less than you make.  Simple.  But it isn't that simple.  So, when I hear about bankruptcies, "Dumbass" is no longer my first thought.  That person may very well be a dumbass, but unless I know that person's story, I will never know if they are bankrupt and losing their house because they had to have a new TV, clothes, and Tahoe, or if they just had a terrible string of health insurance-less nosebleeds.

Tom out.

Consider your welcome worn out.

The house guest is an interesting breed.  They usually visit for a good reason, a reason that makes you happy.  A monumental occasion that you want to share with those close to you.  But lets be honest, you enjoy the presence of your house guest at the expense, to some degree, of your own comfort.  They know it, and you know it, but it is always manageable for a short period of time.

Our friend, Bart.

Our house guest, Bart (Bathroom Absolutely Ripped ToBits) has been with us since about March.  When he first arrived, it was awesome.  He kept Katie company when she didn't have a substituting job lined up for the day.  He provided fodder for workplace conversation.  And we have learned a few things from Bart in the last couple of months.  For example, we will probably never buy a house with only one bathroom, but if we do, we know that we can survive a weekend with five adults and only one bathroom.  We have learned how to replace the sub floor, and that a 15 inch pry bar is a fantastic tool when ripping up the underlayment layer of a house's floor. We have learned that the crawl space under the house isn't really that scary.

But it isn't all sugar and spice with Bart around.  He has quite literally bowed under the weight of his own vanity, which requires us to step in, and provide him support.  That is what friends do.  But, it does try one's patience.  After working with him all day today, I feel like a good friend, and I feel like we have made some progress.  But the truth is that Bart is still in pretty rough shape, and it will be a while before he is ready to leave us...

Tom out.