I get by with a little help from my friends...

My friends are awesome.

Since we moved into the new place, the wife and I have been attempting to find a way to get some sitting furniture into our living room. Our last couch was just toast, it really had to go. So the new place didn't have crap to sit on, much less feel good on the butt.

We did get a great chair from her aunt (as payment for helping HER move a weekend after our big move), but that was really just a GREAT sitting spot for one person.

Enter our friends Mike and Meghan, who also moved recently. They found that they had a chaise that just didn't quite fit into their new house, as well as a very sturdy coffee table that fit great in front of the chaise, but again, not in the new place.

For about a week I was trying to coordinate the use of someone's truck to go pick up the stuff from Mike and Meghan, but every time I got close to getting transportation, something went wrong.

Lo and behold, I get a message Thursday of last week stating that Mike and another buddy Jason would be dropping by with the furniture on Saturday! They were doing some sort of epic city-wide furniture rearrangement with multiple houses, lots of big furniture, and a rental truck.

So now we have a respectable amount of sitting space in our living room. I've yet to grab a picture, but now we don't really have anything preventing a housewarming party. I'm thinking Aug 18. With the meatfest.

This is what it is to be a grown up.

Everything is in place. The owls are on the shelf, the books are up in some sort of weird order, and the yard is mostly kept clear.

The car is functioning, even though borrowed time is not even close to a good adjective to describe how long it will last.

The kids are healthy and staying peaceful. They tend to get too lodged into things that must be provided electricity, but once school starts and they make friends, things may change a little.

But the thing that isn't set up correctly, at least the thing that bugs me the most, is the living room is still in shambles.

Our television died at our old place. I tried to fix it, but I guess I wasn't good enough with the soldering stuff to make it work again. We also pitched the couch, thinking it wouldn't be very long until we got a new one.

It really isn't a big deal to not have a living room, but I find myself more and more just going up to bed to find a comfortable place to sit. And then, once on the bed, I recline and just fall asleep.

This is stupid, I know, and it's starting to make me feel like such a lazy slob.

But I've found the furniture places close to me that have what we need, and I can get them soon, I just need to be patient. I'm thinking maybe a sofa and a loveseat, because there are times when we have lots of people that come over and want some comfy place to sit.

The TV may have to wait another month, just because of all the expenses in getting moved... But I know what I'm after, and I know when to get it, it's just a matter of waiting and being patient. :D

A Rare Occurrence (hopefully)

I don't typically use this space to bitch about work, but I feel this is the most influencial thing going on in my life today, so I'll just jot down some thoughts.

It seems that there's some weird cycle of people trying to be excellent, then noticed, then appreciated, then they just don't care. At that point they become cynical, then jaded, then downright hostile, then poisonous. Then something happens where they go back to trying to be excellent...

I've tried my best to just keep an even keel. I get my stuff done when necessary, I don't try too hard and burn myself out. When an emergency comes up that I can handle/help with, I tuck my wings and divebomb all over it until the problem is resolved. Otherwise, I'm just another cook in the kitchen, and I may get in the way.

The problem is when these two ideas merge, and especially when they merge when everyone's in the poisonous part of the cycle.

When a VIP client asks for assistance, and the on-call guy doesn't drop everything and assist, it's a bad time. When the root cause of the issue is a certificate that expired days earlier but wasn't noticed, it's a badder time. And when everything gets dropped into my lap to correct, it's a really badder time.

But again, I don't try to over-extend, I just politely note the issue, find out that it was someone else's mistake that caused the cert to drop in the first place. I tell who needs to know what they need to do, and back out of it.

In years past, I would have flipped the fuck out, fixed all the things, then gone on a witch-hunt to fry those responsible. Now, it's not like I don't care, but I just don't care enough to get all finger-pointy. The cert is requested, other methods of hitting the servers are given out, and we're generally in an alright spot.

But this is just a sign of the times. Shit's about to get really bad if this is what it's gonna be like for the next few months.

Reboot

So we've moved. All our things are out of the old place, and into the new place. Our shitty, two bedroom townhouse/apartment in the middle of the woods is no longer our "home". Maybe someone else will enjoy the garden we built, or the notes I left in various places with things like instructions on how to light the furnace (seriously, it was hard for me the first time), or the other small improvements we made on the abode.

But now, now we're in a huge three bedroom house. It is fully equipped with AC, an ice maker, a dishwasher, and all sorts of things we haven't had for what seems like forever. I think we're gonna like it in our new place. It's within ten minutes to work for me. It's closer to our friends. It has a host of awesome little shops and pizza places and butchers and niche-ey things.

We're nestled away in this little part of Covington called Peaselburg. Apparently that's slang German for goose-shit, because during the initial years of existence, Peaselburg was home to immigrants that kept geese. Like, lots of them. It was food, and geese have to eat and poop.

Anyway, now the little neighborhood is quite pleasant, no goose-shit anywhere. I have noticed something, though, whenever someone who knows anything about Northern Kentucky asks me where I moved to, and I reply Peaselburg, they sorta drop their expression a bit. They seem... I dunno, saddened by this. They mutter something like, "Oh, that's nice..." and then just move on to something else.

What the fuck? The place isn't bad, really. The neighborhood is full of blue-collar workers who work every day and come home to a nice home cooked meal and then sit on their porch and smoke and think about things. That's pretty much what I like to do, so I fit right in. My car is not the nicest nor is it the non-nicest car on the block, so I fit right in.

I imagine it would be different if I had moved to some meth-production neighborhood, or if murders were an all time high just up the street, but that's not the case here. I live in a nice place, damnit. My neighbors are friendly, but they keep their respectable distance. When moving in, our truck got stuck halfway in the driveway, and several of them hopped off their porches to come investigate and offer their opinions on how to un-stick the stuck truck.

And anyway, I like it, so I don't really care what anyone else thinks.

I've got two grills now, too. Very soon I will be hosting a large meat-fest full of grilled sizzling meats fresh-cut from our local butchers. There will also be local wines from the vineyards down the street. You are welcome to come attend.

Potential Capacitance

A strange thing happened recently as we woke up and started our morning routine. Typically my alarm goes off at 6:30am, we roll out of bed and one of us starts the coffee. The other turns on the TV and gets something somewhat calm but upbeat going so that everyone wakes up and gets started on their day.

My wife had already started the coffee, so I hit the power button and thought about playing some music to get the troops at attention, but something looked... odd.

My stupid-because-I-just-woke-up-brain couldn't tell exactly what I was seeing, but the image was all wrong. After a few sips of joe and a smoke, I realized that the TV display was in negative colors. Everything was there, all the buttons responded correctly, but the colors were a weird metallic purple and green rather than normal.

Over the next few days I did some research, tried some reset options, but it sounded more and more like it was an issue I'd either need to repair, or just pitch the whole thing and buy a new one. This TV is five years old, and at the time I bought it, the price was $1k. (I had just gotten a bonus, and after paying some bills down, we decided to splurge)

So fast forward to today: my TV is on our dining table, back taken off, capacitors examined. I have a replacement kit in the mail, arriving Saturday, and I'm anxious to see if the $15 kit will bring back our sanity box.

If it fails, or if this isn't the root cause, an exact replacement for my TV is now at the low low price of $350, but it's the principle of the thing. Why buy a new set if the old one just needs some elbow grease and brow sweat?

In other news, we're trying to move. The school district we're in right now is so shitty, my kids come home depressed and angry every day. Both of them have teachers that cannot handle discipline problems in their classes, so they punish the entire class for the few issues that may come up.

I don't want my kids to lose any more of their spirit and drive. They're both good kids. They have compassion, alertness, curiosity, and drive. If they lose all that due to a shitty job (school), then I've failed as a parent.

So the area of town we're looking to move has great schools, is close to where I work (yay five minute drives!), and also has a  ton of stuff nearby for the wife to find a job. It's the right move for us right now, but I'm having doubts that we can afford the houses that are available.

Maybe my fears are unfounded. Maybe the move will be like new capacitors for the TV. Maybe I just need to pop the case and look inside for a few minutes to see what the problem is, and all will be well after shifting some things around.

Don't Fear

I'm seeing a trend lately, and I'm not sure if it's always been there, or if it's waxing and waning based on some weird criteria of the universe.

Death is an important thing. Some say it's the very thing that makes life so important; the conclusion and built-in timer creates value in the remaining seconds someone alive stays alive. Others see importance in the particulars surrounding the death experience, like the time or place or activity involved when death occurs.

I've met people who were denialists of death, thinking that they'd never have to deal with anyone close to them dying, like a pet or older friend. Usually there's just something else more important to deal with, or something more up front and center to occupy their thoughts. There's dinner plans to make, or school, or work, or kids, or entertainment, or whatever. These kinds of people are usually the ones most shocked when someone close to them does meet with destiny and dies.

The other extreme isn't any healthier, of course, those who brood on death and all the implications therein have similarly bad reactions to oblivion. I fit into this category, I fear, in that I tend to see things as being temporary. The building across the street will one day be torn down to allow another building to go up. The old hobo begging for change on the corner will soon expire, probably unseen and unknown. Technically one day our sun will explode into something none of us could ever escape, and therefore most of what we do is essentially without meaning since there is no permenance.

But the trend I was speaking of earlier: I have seen more and more people dip and stay into this latter group. We tend to be romantic (but not in the good way), shy (since we usually don't see a reason in making new friends if they're just gonna die anyway), and introspective (maybe there is life after death, right? well, maybe not...). I know rationally acting this way is silly, since I may as well make the most of my very short lifespan, but there are times when things just get so _heavy_, ya know?

The other day I was at a wedding, which should be a very uplifting and momentous occasion. During the reception and drinking time afterwards, a group of friends were standing around talking, and one mentioned to another how they were upset every time they catch themselves doing a physical action like their father, such as crossing their arms a certain way, or saying a phrase in the same voice. They were really mad about it, and it became the topic for a few minutes.

I couldn't help it, I got a little choked up and walked away.

I wanted to yell at them. I wanted to point out that their fathers' time is limited, that they should cherish every second they still have with them. Well, maybe not seconds, but you know, they shouldn't look crossly at the connection they have with their parents.

But then I remembered how morose I am at times, and I also remembered that some people just don't like their parents. I also remembered that my Dad passed only recently, and the wound is still fresh. I didn't want to be that guy.

But sometimes I am that guy.

It's hell getting old

I decided recently that my car just isn't going to last me long enough to get to the farm. The front end is shaking badly, the tires are nearly bald, brakes need replaced, etc etc etc etc etc.

So I went to my friendly neighborhood car dealership, the kind that lets you borrow money if you're a poor bastard like me, you know, the buy here pay here kind... Anyway, we looked at my credit report, looked at some cars, and they were really willing to work with me. It was surprising, considering how really shitty my credit is and always has been. I don't know if it would have really gone all the way to a scene of me driving something off the lot, but it was something I needed to experience.

I needed to know if all hope was lost yet. I needed to know if they would have just laughed me out of the building. There was a time when I had no credit (which they say is worse than having bad credit, but we all know that's a load of bull), and I had to use a co-signer for a car. Technically, my dad was the initial loanee and I was his cosigner (made the interest rate on the loan better), but I made all the payments. That was my first real newer car, and I loved it. Then Dad filed bankruptcy and the car got repo'd as if I was just a side-show fool.

So now I'm working through all my debt, awakened by the idea that someone may one day actually let me buy a car that doesn't shimmy down the road. I might one day drive a car that has a radio that wasn't stolen, windshield wipers that actually move, and the car may also be eerily silent (the one I have now always sounds like a big bird fight is happening in the back seat). I've got repayment plans all happening at once, we're eating less expensive food (hence the lack of anything cool on my food blog), and we're trying to make it to July.

July will be the last payment to the company who now owns the loan on the Saab. The Saab was the car that decided to have a cracked head gasket after a long trip to Tennessee. It still ran, but smoked terribly. No one wanted to touch it or even look at it for less than $2k. So I let them take it back.

The car I'm driving now is a lot like me. It has parts that are loose and things that are broken and neglected. It makes weird noises, but still gets to work every day. It never fails to start, but it's hard to steer. It's getting older, and the frame is all but rusted away completely. One day (hopefully in August!) it'll be replaced by something smaller and faster and cleaner and consumes less fuel, but until then it dutifully clangs down the road.