so the day that I actually have something somewhat 'not so bland' to throw in an entry, I can't access Xanga.  after trying to sign in, it gave me some sort of "we're updating your webpage. please come back in 24-72 hours".  ok. it's been a good 24 since I last tried, and here I am...oh yeah, the 'not so bland' news.  the fire alarm went off a good two hours into second shift (the stalag). we friggin' had a damn bomb scare yesterday!  the vice principal (I don't know, some top dog) said (whilst we all stood in the parking lot, frying under the mid-day sun) that someone had used a spray paint can in the men's bathroom writing [paraphrase] "there's a bomb in the box"...anyway, there was no firetrucks, no police, no bomb sniffing bumble bees, nothin', they just gave everyone the all clear about 20 minutes later. I wasn't sure I wanted to use the bathroom for the rest of the day, but as bofo hot as it's been, you can drink a thousand gallons of water and simply sweat it all out.  it's a damn oven, and worse, I haven't been on the assembly line lately (Mark, just getting off from a tendon injury swapped with me, and he was the route runner.  production handler in any other factory).  route running is OK, but there are no fans to even blow hot air at ya.  it only takes about 45 minutes to become totally drenched in sweat, then almost freeze while sitting in the air conditioned break room. it's supposed to get cooler (80's) here near the weekend.

after stopping at Arby's for a chicken sammich on the way to work, I just get to the train tracks when the gates started coming down, and the red lights flashed.  great! it's a rarity when I get caught by the train on the way in.  this time, the gates stayed down for a good couple minutes without any sign of a train, then one of those CSX pickup trucks (with the train wheel attachment) bolts by.  the red lights stop, the gates go up, but the traffic light stayed red, and as if on cue, the red lights start blinking again, and the gates come down, right when the traffic light turns green (which quickly turned red again...they must be tied in with the railroad thinger). it was like a damn clown car parade.  first it's one of those ugly rail road tie replacement vehicles, followed by some sort of crane, and a couple other goofy looking cars all independent of one another.  it was almost Dr Seuss-ish in scope.  anyway, I was almost late, but squeaked in on time.

there. that's it.  bomb squad, oven roasted stalag workers,  and Dr Seuss train equipment

11 days off, 2 work days, then another 2 days off (weekend)...I could get used to this!.  the weekend was mostly uneventful (which is good!  slack rules the day!).  I washed my car, did some shopping, helped the neighbor finish her roof, drank some coldeys, watched the amazing 3rd day of the John Deere Classic (PGA golf tournament), which ended in 5 rounds of playoff golf betwixt three players.  more Netflix, more coldeys, more slack, more power-naps, etc.  then back to work on Monday, which also was mostly uneventful other than a huge amount of downtime due to the assembly lines elevator done busted a spacely sprocket. there you have it.  another nothing of an entry, to bore the tar out of anyone with a pulse *fart*

weather is humid and in the yupper 90's.  looks like tomorrow will climb above 100!  the sweat shop just got sweatier...

I get a bang on my door, and my neighbor hollering in if I'm awake. I jump out of bed and ask "where's the fire?!".  she said "no fire, I just got some of Brian's mail, and I'm getting ready to re-roof paint my trailer".  now this is Brian's mom speaking. she's in her mid 60's. she has almost as hard a time going down the three porch stairs as Rosie did and she wants to re-roof paint her trailer.  I had a couple three hours to kill before going back to work, so I asked if she'd mind if I helped. as it turned out, she got the real thick stuff, and only had dollar store rollers, but we made due, until the rollers disintegrated from the cheapness.  we may have only gotten about a tenth of the way done. I told her she'll maybe have to invest in something a little heavier duty. she said she'll head to the hardware store and see what they got. meanwhile, it was time for me to eat something, shower, and get ready to go back to the stalag (yup.  those 11 days off are all but gone).

work went fine, but after a good six hours, I started getting back all those familiar aches and pains.  my right hand index finger (arthritis?), my tennis (spanker's) elbow, my left knee, my right shoulder.  most pain is just from gettin' old, the rest is prob'ly from gettin' old too.  anyway, I have a Vicodin left over from my wisdom toof's bein' yanked out, so I pop me one of those.  between roof work and work work, I feel a bit beat up, being that that's the only activity (sans the golf range) that I've done through out those 11 days.

alright, we got this dude from work, he's a pretty intelligent guy, but tonight he tells me a story that kind of throws him into that naive category (in my honest opinion).  he tells me that he was surfing the web and apparently ran into the wrong porn site, because next thing you know, there's an FBI insignia staring him in the face, locking his computer, and scaring the hell out of him with "if you don't pay $300 within 72 hours, you will be prosecuted as a sex offender [and other various threats] *paraphrased*. I told him it was prob'ly a clever hack job, and the easiest way to unlock your 'puter without paying is to reformat and reinstall windows, but then, as if he didn't hear a word I said, he says "the FBI!  they could find out where I live and get me!  I don't want to be tagged a sex offender!..."  fessing up after all that, that he was scared into paying the money.  I let him know that he best keep an eye on that MC account, 'cause now this hacker has plenty to work with to steal your identity. I don't know as I got thru to him.  I still think he's convinced the black helicopters are going to start dropping paratrooper lines over his house.  oh well.  live and learn.  some of these phishing scams/ malware attacks and what-have-you can get you unraveled if you're not careful...[website describing said vicious ransom-ware]

anyway, gotta hit the sack, so I can help Brian's mom work some more on her roof tomorrow before another stint at the stalag.  sounds like we have the whole weekend off (stalag), so maybe I'll have more time to help wid da roofus.

oh yeah, I was gonna comment on a movie I saw on Netflix.  it's very bizarro, but I dug it!  the further (farther?) I got into it, the better/stranger it had gotten. the movie's called "John Dies in the End".  it's very quirky!  there are a couple other movies, that I don't remember the titles to right off the top of me skull, but will mention them when I'm less tired...Netflix RULES!!

after these past 5-ish (Fyvush Finkel?) driving range experiences (the latest being this morning), I have a great respect for anyone who can consistently hit the ball where they want,  and an even greater respect for those who take it on as a career and play the game like there throwing darts and making it look easy.  meanwhile, they're naming craters, larger than the moon's own Tycho, where my weekend hacker turf gougers have been created. I can't say I'm getting any better with each outing, but I am less muscle sore after each.  maybe I'm relaxing a bit.  actually, this mornings range work wasn't so much crater making, but I had many o' swings where the Tee went flying and the ball stayed where the tee was pushed into the ground.  I guess I gotta choke up a bit.  there's so many ways to ruin a good shot. I think I've discovered all of them without even trying.  maybe lessons are in my future?  meanwhile, it's fun trying to be Tiger.

another nice day!  yesterday, I bought some turf filler grass (ummm) stuff.  where you can fill in patches of lawn that are damaged. in this case, where Rosie used to dig holes in the lawn when she got tangled up in her lead line attached to the porch.  I guess she figured no use going E,W,N,or S, and I can't go up, so I might as well dig down.  after leveling said area, I seeded it, and watered it (to be watered twice a day for 10 days).  immediately followed by black birds pickin' away at the area.  dammit! I just spent $14 to feed some dingbat birds.  I could've bought a block of suet for $13 cheaper.  maybe I'll chain Squabber out there so he can chase these varmints away *fart*

Chinese buffet (China king buffet) for lunch and a double fish-wich combo (Checkers) for supper (it was one of those days I didn't feel like cooking).  I don't know as I'll ever go back to this Checkers. it took me a good half of an hour waiting in the drive thru line before I could even place my order.  even though the sandwich itself was damn worth the 1/8th of a gas tank it took to get it. I guess I'll never know another sandwich that has as big of a carbon footprint as one bought at this Checkers location.  it's got a single road curving along the back of it, that once commited, you can't abort or pass along side to escape, but you don't realize this, until you've made the turn in, that they've got ya.  I think it'll be their downfall. the place used to be an old Hot 'n' Now. I bet they went under for the same reason.  we'll see how long they last/ or improve their drive thru experience.

a lawn chair, and an MP3 player full of 'They Might Be Giants' calls me...

there it is! that first summertime foot bake.  I'd have a half inch of burnt leather on my feet by now if the pooperdog were still around (although our walks became pretty short there near the end). this time I take peroxide blondie's dog for a good long walk whilst they spent the day at Michigan's adventure (theme park/water slides). I'm surprised at how many peeps remember my name, and ask where the other dog went? it used to be the other way around. most peeps would call out 'Rosie!', when we passed by, and I assumed they didn't even know my name. and on top of that, these are peeps I haven't seen in a long time being this is the long walk that Rosie hadn't been on in forever.  oh yeah, I've once again strayed from my point.  the pavement was pretty roasty. there.

otherwise, the day was awash with sunburn, barefoot peroxide blondie dog walks, power-naps, and beer

a little online banking, after realizing that it's already Friday (my, how free vacation time flies).  after figuring out how much to deduct for upcoming bills, and taking into account the money I need for beer and stuff for this week, I still have about $100 to throw toward savings, which will be utilized next week and the week after, being my next two checks will be ultra wimpy (one check being for the 4th and 5th; holiday pay, and the next being the 11th and 12th; the days I'll have to go back from my free vacation). I got about $640 left in savings and a pretty big car payment ($355) coming up, but my budget still looks good. I may have to squeak a bit until I get another big check, but what else is new?  at this point I haven't even added in what two paychecks at 16 hours a piece would net? maybe $170 each (roughly...after taxes). yeah, I'm good to go (barring any unforeseen expenses, but I'll try not to break my leg in the next couple weeks)!  there.  I've completely bored both my readers with my finances, but if I remain vigilant on budgeting, I won't be surprised.

looks like another nice day!  Brian (room mate/mass murderer) shoots off some Walmart fireworks last night with his peroxide blondie girlfriend.  she, being the youngster (24) was mocking Brian (49) about being a big kid as he's smiling and shooting off roman candles and the like. the sulfuric smoke would drift directly into the neighbor's outdoor shindig. I mentioned to Brian that maybe he should fire stuff off on the other side of the trailer to avoid this, which he did once, only to go right back to where he originally started, smoking out the neighbor's good. he has little or no consideration for anyone, it seems.  I watched for a bit, then went inside and tried to calm the little mammals down (her dog is as spooked at the 4th as Rosie was).  anyway, as I was sayin', looks like a nice day.  maybe I'll start it off with something to eat *plan*

I pick up some plywood and liquid nails (caulk) at Brian's request.  seems he has the urge to replace the wood under both kitchen and bathroom sinks.  ok. plus, I pick up an electric eel.  30 bucks for four hours to rent it (one of those electric rooter dealies, to unclog clogged clogs). the last 4 times I rented one, it took all of those 4 hours to ream all 50 feet and back twice.  this time it only took a good hour and 15!  meanwhile, Brian wanted to get in the way so he cuts some plywood to fit over the rotten particle board already under the sink.  that's fine, it forced me to take a break every now and then so I could drink some water. I pull away some of the wood-panel submarine skirting outside to see why there's so much water under the porch.  seems one of the screw clamps wasn't tight enough on the main drain elbow below the trailer (the elbow I had replaced last year sprung a leak...wait, "SPRUNG" is a word? I was waitin' for it to show me that squiggly spell check underline...wait!  "SQUIGGLY" is a word too?! heheh. nevermind.  wait, now it's showing me 'NEVERMIND' isn't a word *fart*  good gawd, how I get distracted easily.

the second half of the day became sunny and nice, so some lawn chair sittin'/beer drinkin' was in order.  later yet, I watch a couple 3 episodes of a show called XIII (13). it's not unlike the Bourne series.  where amnesia meets good guy/bad guy CIA insiders.  who do you trust, etc.

this morning, I hit McDonald's for breakfast, then hit Michigan's own Pacific Coast Highway (alright, not as pretty, but cool non-the less). it's a road that stretches betwixt Holland and Grand Haven, that is hugely scenic and winding.  I would have tried hitting the beach (around the corner), but that's a damn suicide mission on a holiday (million mile long lines to get in), so I passed it up.  on the way home, I hit my favorite beer store for a sixer of oarsman ale, and hit that lawn chair once again with my MP3 blasting 'They Might Be Giants'.

Brian just came home and said "grillin' will commence 'round 5-ish" (Fyvush Finkel?) "...so be on your best behavior when [peroxide blondie] gets here!" I reply; "yes dad", then added, "I'll have to have more beer to be on my best behavior", popping a dead soldier out of my beer cozy and reloading it with a fresh bottle.  wait, why do suppose he said that? I'm not that unruly drunk that hits on every woman around.  this isn't his first date with her.  she knows that I like to drink beer.  does he simply like to act like he controls everything concerning me and this place? YES!  he even pulls this, after I use the bathroom.  he'll ask "did you wash your hands?"  again, I reply; "yes dad".  did I mention his OCD nature?  you know i did.

anyway, back to that lawn chair...

.

and right on cue, as if the golf gods don't want me to be Tiger, it rains all day.  switch to rainy day mode.  second hand stores, then Menard's to pick up one of those shelvey things that go above (and around) the toilet,  do lunch at Kozak's II for one of my favorite gyro's with feta cheese and a root beer.  later, watch an couple "horror" movies. one called "Slither", and the other "Quarantine 2" (even though I hadn't seen 1 yet).  both entertaining.  some Rounder's (Bell's brewing co.) to drink whilst watching...again, today starts off looking rainy.  oh well.  it's supposed to get nicer this weekend.  today would be a good day to address that clogged sink (again).  I'll go rent one of those rooter thingeys.

otherwise nothing new under the sun (um...clouds)

again, nothing much to write about. it was a good start to my free vacation (automotive shut-d0wn thinger).  lawn chair in the sun, with a couple coldies, and my MP3 playing mostly Beatle tunes.  before that I hit the store for some food and try and find me a frame for a poster I bought online.  turns out it isn't your easy to find frame size.  maybe I'll just tack it to the paneling, like I used to do when I was a kid. that'll look good in the man-cave / wood-panel submarine. I'll place it on the wall, next to the burn barrel in the living room, or I could tack it above the wall that the Kawasaki leans against.  later (after a goodly amount of brew) I hit Youtube (via my PS3) to view tips on beginners golf.  there are a ton of free lessons online if ya dig for 'em.  I'm gonna hit the range tomorrow morning (weather permitting). I can't be Tiger if I don't get out there and practice.

beautiful day!  not your super hot summer type. it was in the 70's mostly. and, of course, I run across another bees nest while trying to get the wet-vac out of the shed (second time this year...).  I still remember the pain of getting stung on the knee cap years ago. that stayed ouchy forever. why do bees, snakes, and mice like my shed so much?  there's a huge swath of woods right behind it...go play out there!

Mark (from work) texts me saying how easy it was for him to call unemployment. I figure I'll give it a quick shot (why not?). I was able to put in info they asked, followed by a weird siren sound.  ok. I guess it doesn't want to work for me. no worries. I gots enough doe in me savings, but it was worth a crack. somehow, I knew it wasn't gonna work.  I had the same-ish problem last year... 

cleaned off my 'puter desk (it's always a wreck) and shredded a ton of old bills and docs I no longer needed. I fired the shredder up yesterday, but Brian had his girlfriends dog here (he dog sits on weekends while peroxide blondie works) , and he (the dog) didn't like the whine it made, so I figured today would be better.

today, I'm 18,677 days old

anyway.  sleep.

driving home from work, both Friday and Saturday, with the top down, I witnessed a whole bunch of fireworks, both near and way off in the distance. I get out of work right at 10pm, making it prime time for the light shows. I guess certain municipalities can't wait for the big 4th weekend to shoot their rockets...

Brian's (room mate) hugely OCD (ADHD, DMV, FBI, CIA, etc).  he's constantly moving things around, expecting me to follow whatever weird trends he does (and there are MANY of them).  sometimes I'll forget that certain things bother him, or it'll be evident that somehow I've made a mistake by what he does next. it's hard to explain, but one day I'll (for example) move a chair where the stool was around the kitchen island, and the next thing you know, that chair ends up in the shed (?!), reminding me that, one day, he hollered at me for doing the same thing because it was in his way when he would make his midnight snack thing to the fridge...I didn't know, and again, I forgot.  generally, if something really gets to him, he'll leave a note; "please rinse the sink out after you use mouth wash.  love, Squab." (he ends all of his messages as if the cat was the author) of which, I usually mentally ad to the things I have to try and remember in order to live with a certain OCD kind of person. but when I pull this, he seems to respond somewhat hurt.  for example, he cleans the shower, which is way cool, but in doing so, he'll put my orange cleaner under the sink instead of leaving in the corner of the shower. I leave a note; "please don't hide my stuff. thanx" which prompts him to leave a guilt ridden novel on the toilet seat. damn, he's twitchy.  I don't know how his peroxide blondie of a girlfriend handles this?  I could give him a whole list of things he's not very considerate of (slamming the bathroom door when I'm trying to sleep, is number one on said list), but they are more of what I'd consider "common courtesies", rather than something as twitchy as a moved chair (of which there's plenty of room to walk around in order to get to the fridge...yeah, you get the idea).  I'll ask him about the chair today, and see if he blows up about it. if so, I'll remind him that I can't remember all of his silly twitcheries.  good gawd, the man is a goofy duck.  k. 'nuff about him.  wait, one more thing. this is the first time he's been late with a portion of his rent (being $60 shy).

it must be a slow news day. I'm killing off a complete entry about hammer head.

let the free vacation begin!

alright, the official word is in.  we work an 8 tomorrow, then another on Saturday, then it's an 11 day shut-down, due to our automotive customers having the same time off [awesome!].  then, after we're told all that, he says if we don't get our numbers by this Saturday, we may have to work Sunday...ok, well. 10 days off would be awesome as well, just, not quite as awesome as 11.  I started about 6 weeks ago, throwing "extra" money into my savings so I'd have something for the time off to absorb the shock of limited income (July 4th and 5th being the only paid days).  $790 in savings ought to help budget during this 'almost free vacation period'.  they give you the option to use your vacation money for the time off, or collect unemployment, but I'll simply go the easy route, and slack hard with little or no income.  I did this last year and survived OK

Brian (room mate/almost neighbor) is beyond fed up with our newest neighbor to the east.  they're the epitome of trailer trash. loud music in the middle of the night. bangin' around makin' tons of racket.  I don't hear it as much being my room is on the west side of the trailer, and I have an awesome 'white noise' fan, but last night, I couldn't believe how incredibly inconsiderate these guys are (I only used to hear the stories because I used to be on 3th shift...now that I'm on second, I hear it all, first hand).  I'm a bit more passive when it comes to rude neighbors, Brian won't think twice about calling the cops, or going over there threatening to beat the shit out of 'em.  he's pretty much a spazz to begin with, then you add the fact that he's on several sleep disorder prescriptions, that'd normally knock a rhino on it's horn, but don't seem to work for him...yeah, you get the point. 

Bambi Mittens (Rosie pooperdog's old owner) sends me a cute email about dogs...I write her back, saying thanks, and telling her how much I miss Rosie's hugs, then BAM!  she sends me about 8 other emails involving cute animal stuff.  damn.  alright, I guess she likes to share animal lover stuff...so I punched her in the face (what?  I didn't know how to end that story...so I used the "I punched her in the face" ending. it was going nowhere fast, so why not, right?) [no Bambi Mittens were harmed during the making of this poorly ended story]

a couple three "canoe paddler" Leinenkugel's to relax with whilst jotting down nothing, then off to sleep so I can get these next 2 work days behind me, and begin my time-off slack ritual

another mostly uneventful work day.  I dig second shift.  we're the skeleton crew of the three, so peeps are asked to stay over on 1rd, and come in early from 3nd, but we're never asked (with the exception of weekend work).  the not so good part is because we're a skeleton crew, the 2th shifters often have to stay on the assembly line the whole 8 hours (while the over-timers do sub station work), so it's a bit tougher, but it's only for 8 hours.  the other bummer is, there are almost zero parking spots available.  we have to park 6 miles away (prob'ly because you have all the 1nd shifters and office peeps), but again, it's all worth it because it's a straight 8 hour shift.  the benefits way out-way the bummers, so again, I say; "yay 8's!"

a couple of "two hearted ales" (Bell's beer), and I'm about to nuke a frozen pot pie, before I hit the sack

we have a meeting before work, from Sam (the first shift boss) stating that if anyone leaves without telling the supervisor, it'll be considered a walk-off which is then considered instant termination.  I know he was talking about me leaving Sunday, but in my defense, I did tell the line support.  but no matter.  I was a bit surprised he didn't look my way when he was talking about this.  anyway, we got the message. it'll never happen again (until I have to work another Sunday, and told to leave early, just to have the rug pulled out from under me). I remained stone faced and unapologetic (since there was no apologies my way for pulling said rug).  I had no comments or questions, I simply went back to work with the rest of the crew and called it a day. I could have stewed over the scenario, but it wasn't worth it.  I make random jokes about how I got away with it, but don't you go tryin' it (to those that asked if he was talking to me).  as it was, the crew went home about two hours later that day, so no biggey.  he did have some good news.  looks like (pending our numbers during this week) we get this coming weekend off, then the whole week following, plus the weekend after (again, pending our numbers *doesn't hold breath*) [news at 11]

come home to a couple of beers, and now I'm ready to crash out...g'night

franch toost, unt bacon, mit shcramblet eggs!

did he just say "fictational"?  Brian likes to create his own 'vocabulation'.   It wasn't long ago, he was trying to explain the "pajectory" of each iron (Rosie pooper clubs).  he even calls Squabber; "Choobah".  I have no idea where he comes up with a lot of his words?  he's a smart guy, just a little confused...now having said that, I'm aware that my vocabulary isn't all it should be, and I will destroy words on purpose here on this blahg, just to be a dork, but really?  'fictational'? 'pajectory'? that's fringe.

so one hour into work, and the boss says "go home!" (due to a shipment being late). I ask more than once if she was messin' with me. nope.  I knew I should have ran like hell upon hearing this, because not one minute later, we get that truck pulling in. she comes back saying "I lied...we're staying".  god dammit!  how often have they pulled this?!  it's not cool! it's cruel and unusual punishment!  I let her know this. there was no apology, or nothin'.  we're there on a Sunday, wishing we weren't, in one of the hottest sweat shops and we get this kind of mind game crap?!  nope. I went home.  well actually, I stuck around for a good hour, but let her know I was leaving when first break came around.  she said "ok".  we were already short handed, so I'm sure it slowed things down, but hey, if you're gonna fuck with me (on what would normally be my day off), I'm gonna fuck back (pardon the franch).  once again, I ask myself "why do I still work here?!"  maybe I should try to get my yacht job back (as my sister had mentioned).

once home, I had a couple 3 beers, watched a couple episodes of 'Futurama' (speakin' of goofball werdz), and caught that Walenda dude cross the grand canyon on a wire (live on the Discovery Channel).  that was pretty intense! 

anyway...sleep.

I STILL think it's beyond cool that Stan Ridgeway  (of 'Wall of Voodoo' fame) is one of my face book friends.  how cool is that?!

gotta work the stalag this whole weekend, but maybe that looming shut down will (or not) come at the beginning of July [news at 11].

right hand index finger (still) bothers me.  once in awhile it feels completely broken...maybe it's gout? arthritis? who knows?

wow! it's bad hiku Saturday. that is all.

wake up early, throw $8 worth of empties in my car (Squabber drinks a lot of beer), tear the roof off, throw the clubs in the passenger seat and drive to my favorite beer store. cash in the empties, buy a sixer of 'the Oarsman' (for after work), and drive to the local driving range.  this is a little peanut range that's attached to a farm.  they normally have buckets of balls on a park bench and a coffee can with a slotted top on it, to put your money in.  there were no balls, no coffee can...I can see someone on a mower in the distance, but can't get his attention.  the friendly ol' dog was there, but he was of no help (other than to be a cute ol' dog).  ok.  I guess he doesn't want my money.  oddly enough, there were a couple peeps swingin' away.  were they using there own balls? maybe. anyway, the Rosie clubs and I decided to just go for a ride in the country.  now, a short nap before hittin'  the stalag, and maybe try again tomorrow.

from old Rosie pooperdog, to new Rosie (pooper?) golf clubs

I get to work a little early on Tuesday 'cause Mark's always kind enough to bring me in some Mexican food (I repay him on Thursday's either with bArfy's or Slubway). anyway, as I'm walkin' in, here comes Mittens with some sort of watering tank (??) turns out she has a job at a flower joint that goes around and waters different company's plants [here, I thought, all along, that the trees in our break room were fake].  she was just as surprised to see me as I was her.  she thought I still worked 3nd.  nopes. we talk about Rosie for a bit (being it was her dog before it was mine).  I sort of make the conversation short saying I gotta punch in before I'm late (even though I was almost an hour early).  it was good to chat.  I'll prob'ly be seeing her again here and there as she waters her way around.

we get new 55" TV's in our break room now, replacing the old 30" CRT's...so now we can be bored with CNN news via flat screen while we dine.  tonight, I find myself getting angry at the half ass job maintenance does on our line.  they don't fix a problem, they half fix it and tell you how to hold your tongue just right in order to make the station work (I'd love to make a maintenance wage in order to not fix stuff like it should be).  give me 10 minutes and a screw driver and I can take care of a lot of head aches our line suffers from.  it dawns on me that I used to get this angry at work stuff daily (when I worked a thousand hours a day).  I guess an anger outburst every couple weeks (on 8's) is somewhat more except-able.

I'm a little geeked, 'cause  the Kid's boyfriend had started  a xanga blahg, only to frazzle out after his first entry, then my sister adds an entry after being gone for a good year, but that's all the farther she gets.  no one wants to share...oh well. who knows, maybe one day I'll stop throwing words on a page and get a life too.

I'm gainin' weight, drinkin' more beers after work, and not takin' me anymore barefoot pooperdog walks.  I guess I should maybe take up joggin', or actually pick up those clubs I bought, and hit the range more often...but being the slacker that I am, it's kind of nice to sleep in *fart*

picked up 3 T-bones, some tator's, (unt some cole slaw) for Brian to grill up.  I had some brats and kielbasa in the fridge too. he threw it all on.  add the goodness of grilled grubbage in mit some beerses, unt some US open on der Golf channel (Phil Mickelson almost won again) , and you got yourself an excellent Sunday afternoon!

I replace the porch light, after a week of fumbling around in the dark, with a green incandescent light.  it's pretty cool!  I figure it's less of an annoyance to the neighbor's, being a dull green instead of high beam white).  otherwise, nothing new to report in my bland blahgage...

my first 48 hour check brings home more than I expected. $501!  this will be easier to budget than I thought.  that's exactly the right amount of money, and overtime I ever want.  that working a thousand hours a week until you're dead thing was getting very old.  yesterday's overtime eight seemed to drag a bit, but that's prob'ly because I (once again) yearn for a whole weekend.  no worries.  I'll do 7-8's before going back to that 12 hour horse shit (yeah, you get the point. next...)

we had the mother of all rainstorms the other night, and wouldn't ya know it, it's when I was parked clear across the parking lot (at the stalag).  that 30 second walk soaked  my clothes as if I had jumped in the river.  I'm glad I drove my truck to work (it needs to be driven once in awhile, so as it doesn't feel lonely), due to the huge puddles I had to drive thru on the way home.  I would have completely swamped that shrimpy bat-mobile.  I haven't seen it rain this hard in forever!  then last night too, we get a good soaking (I do love spring time).  a couple three beers after work, Star Trek (tos) on Netflix, and I'm out like a light, passed out on da couch.

let's see.  nothin' else, really.  I've taken Brian's peroxide blondie's dog for a barefoot walk a couple times (I DO miss those). my new clothes washer's the shit (I prob'ly already expounded on this). Brian wants to BBQ something on the grill today.  I best hit the store for a couple steaks, and whatever...

*fart*

I had no idea you can find complete movies on Youtube.  I discover this last night, putting my headphones on (beer and leftover ham unt chips by my side) to try and drown out peroxide blondie's love squeals wafting from Brian's bedroom.  I know you'd like to hear more about her lovely bellowing, but the Jackie Chan movie I saw was awesome.  good gawd, between her howls, and her walking around the trailer in her underwear, I can create my own porno in my head...but you wanna know what the Jackie Chan movie was called...

[...]

what?  I got a pop-up message saying my 'puter is gonna shut down for important updates.  ok. ummm.   I'll be back. save.

online banking has me put $300 of my last weeks check (the last of the huge overtime checks) into savings.  I'd normally stow all of that toward debt, but I'm playing it a little cautious, now that I'll be netting just over half of what I used to make (now being on that 8 hour shift...40 to 48 hours/week as opposed to 60 hrs plus).  I've been eyeballing my budget for weeks now, thinking up creative ways to pay bills and have a tiny spending/ savings allowance.  first, of all, I calculate a plan to lose that ever increasing Master Card debt (about 3 grand).   I should take the advice to freeze the card itself in a block of ice, so as it'd make it harder to use (giving one time to think, while it thaws, as to whether the next purchase is a necessity, or just a 'want').  also, I figure if I treat the debt like a loan, and set up a two year payment plan, using that freed up $135/month that I was paying toward my last loan, with said plan, in writing, in my face (on the wall), it'll help motivate me to lose that debt.  meanwhile, my bank sends me a notice saying they've increased my borrowing ceiling up to another 3 grand.

I'm still curious as to what 2rd shift premium (at the stalag) is?  no one (on our shift) seems to know.  I'll find out this Friday.  I guess I have HR at my disposal now (between 2pm and 5), but keep forgetting to ask...

there's still a deafening absence of tripping over a dog every time I turn around.  I got to give it more time, plus 'Squab helps fill in the blank (can I buy a vowel?)

I decide last night to wake up early and hit the driving range, 'cept this morning's rain makes me abort the mission. I got nothing on my "to-do" list, so maybe I'll take me a power-nap before work.   speaking of work, they're making peeps work over time on first (and under time on third) to cover the lack of help we have on second.  they pull that old shit; "if we don't get enough volunteers, everyone stays!".  meanwhile, they determine that there's not enough work for everyone, so they send home the temps (making unwilling full timers stay, and shoeing away some temps who want the work).  it's the beginning of sliding right back into 12 hour shifts...I can already see it comin'.  the place has such a backwards ass way of treating its employees, it's damn pathetic!  meanwhile, us 2th shifters aren't (yet) asked to do any overtime, but I'm afraid it won't be long.

anyway, onto making that "in my face" budget sheet (see first paragraph), then maybe a good power-nap

PS.  instead of freezing my card, I put it in a sealed envelope and lock it in my safe, but while doing so, I find Brian's rent cash in another envelope, of which I totally forgot I had.  I know, if I leave said cash in my wallet, I'll spend it on dumb stuff (mostly vending snacks at the stalag), but if I lock it away, and forget about it, it's yet another way to save...here's hopin' I can work on my debt, throw a little cabbage each week into my savings account and have many envelopes of rent cash while I figure out my new budget.  ["baby steps toward the elevator..."]

a couple 3 beerses after work, whilst, oddly enough, looking at teardrop campers online...I know, right?  they are the cutest little ugly campers ever.  the ultra cool ones cost $10,000 and up, but it's free to look (unt dream).  it would look awesome being towed behind my shrimpy bat-mobile, but my budget (as always) dictates otherwise (again; free to dream).

this morning, I wake up 'round 6am, have me a bowl of raisin bran crunch, and re-crash back out for a good  5 hours (I do love 2th shift!).  afterwards, I hit the lawn chair for some sun and review some more "they might be giants" downloads.  lastly, I hit the shower, pack me the remainder of my now wilted salad for work lunch (don't forget the salad dressing...again) and off to the stalag I go (maybe hitting Wendy's along the way for a spicey chicken sammich combo).  ready, set, GO!

wow. that's not good news...the AC guy was just here and suggests that both the AC unit and the furnace SHOULD be replaced.  both units are a good 30 plus years old.  he gives me a rough estimate for the replacement of somewhere in the $4,500 range, or continue, for now, with what I have and just replace the burned out motor in the AC for around $400, knowing that something else could go on it at any time.  yeah, that's the Dutch guy option. fix it short term and let me get some quotes  for total replacement maybe next spring (or when I feel ready to spend more than what I paid for the whole trailer itself).  he's on his way back to his shop now to pick up a motor...

between today's $400 AC motor, the new washer at $600, and putting the dog down at $166, I'm spending money like a fiend this month.  oh well.  I'll simply have to tighten the belt a bit tighter, 'til I win the lotto *fart*  oh, and by the way, you may think AC is a luxury?  these tin sweat boxes (or wood-panel submarines) almost require AC, so as one doesn't french fry when they sleep.  it gets that bad.

8 hours of work yesterday went relatively fast.  we ran out of springs about 6 hours in (ya gots to have springs to activate the bar that brings the seat forward unt back).  we spent the last couple hours doin' rework.  after work, I quickly pass out after 3 beers, whilst watching a bad movie on Netflix.  this morning, I do me some McDonald's for breakfast, warsh me dune buggy, vacuum it out, and take me a Sunday drive (mit der top down).  I happened to be coming home via the express way, when a van with a trailer ahead of me suddenly loses it's tail light.  it meanders aimlessly in front of me bouncing along.  I try and dodge it, while still staying in control (me going 70 MPH and all).  I pegged it with both my right front and right rear tire.  I slow down anticipating one or both tires would soon go flat, but I got lucky.  I pass the van and wave with that certain "whatevah" look [].  afterwards, I get my haircut, do some Chinese buffet for lunch, and watch Tiger Woods not win the St Jude's classic PGA tour (wait, he wasn't even in the line-up...never mind).  it was a good day!  sunny for the first half, rainy for the last.  currently, I'm listening to my latest MP3 download (Southern Culture on the Skids latest LP), and typing more nothings on my Xanga page, whilst drinking some beerses. *Be7ch!*

tomorrow, I gotta be up at 7:30am to meet the heating unt cooling guy.  hopefully he'll fix the AC without having to charge me $70,000.00

I placed a pound of ground turkey in the crisper, like I always do when putting away groceries , but this time, I  completely forgot about it.  by the time I rediscovered it.  it had been a week over its due date.  the turkey pinkness had turned to a light brown.  I open it, take a whiff, and decide to use it, being the Dutch guy and not wanting to waste it (I mean, if it still smells good, right?).   in my backwards thinking, not only did I waste the meat, but the hamburger helper I added to it...there's not enough Parmesan cheese in the world to cover bad hamburger helper.  I was almost late for work, so I ate some anyway.  no, it didn't result in any gastrointestinal problems later, but it sure did taste...like a wet dog smells.  I ended up throwing the majority of it out in the yard (for woodland critters with a hardier stomach to enjoy). 

just made me another BLT sammich (mmmmmmmms!  thems is good!) for breakfast.  I'll use the leftover cooked bacon, chop up the remaining lettuce, ham, and tomato's throw in some sharp cheddar cheese and BAM, I got a quick salad for work lunch.  here's hopin' I remember the blue cheese dressing (like I forgot the last time).

my vet sends me a nice sympathy card with all the employees signatures. it's a very nice gesture!  also, I get a call from them saying Rosie's plaster paw print is ready to pick up.  I'll grab it on the way to work, and maybe post a pic of it tomorrow.

it looks like the Kid's boyfriend wants to start a blog (HI MARK! HI CARL!).  it's fun!  I kind of dig going back and rereading an entry from, say, 4 years back (or whenever) and reliving it in me head.  my life is pretty drab, but recalling simple memories from an old entry is golden!  my sister (my other subscriber) started one, but it's been a good year, or so, since she updated it. xanga's cool too, in the way you can customize your settings, from either the whole world seeing your page, to no one but you (and everything in between).  rock on, dude!  now I only wish HooHah would start one...I wanna know what's goin' on with his Mini-soda self

looks like a nice day today.  I just might hit that lawn chair for an afternoon nap/tan....

first off, I should be able to save a ton of money on my electric bill, now that the ol' dog is gone.  I'd leave my bedroom fan on day and night because I knew she liked to sleep with her head against it.  I can now turn off my laptop 'puter, when not in use (I'd always leave that on as a Rosie night light), and the living room TV can be shut down when I'm not at home (I'd leave it on for some white noise for both Rosie and 'Squab).  and speaking of 'Squab, he's taking over where Rosie left off.  Rosie used to  wake me up, either by shaking her head or sneezing right by my face (as I was sleeping).  this morning, 'Squab put his feet on my bed and meowed in my face to wake me.  turns out he was out of food.  little mammals sure are fun to have around for just those silly annoyances

2rd shift is going good!  yesterday I was drag-ass tired (still adjusting to real hours).   Mark and I hit IHOP on the way home where we each got a big meal (chicken fried steak, hash browns, scrambled eggs, a stack of pancakes with blueberry syrup and a glass of OJ...mmmms!), followed by me coming home, showering, and getting a good 12 hours of sleep (I know, right?).  tonight seemed to fly by.  we get the announcement that we'll have to work Saturday [which is ok...48 hours a week beats the HELL out of 60 some!].

anywho...

a couple beers last night, and I was out 'til about 7:30 am.  I jump in my shrimpy batmobile, get me a tall coffee at McDonald's, go to the store for a bottle of windshield washer, killin' time before the oil change place opened at 8. gave the bat-mobile a good drink of fresh synthetic oil, had 'em top off all liquids, and fill the tires to be good to go for another 5000 miles.  once home, I call the local heating and cooling place and set up an appointment to have my central air looked at and fixed.  the best they can set up is next Monday at 7:30 am.  kool!  I'll prob'ly have me another Agave wheat ale and hang out on the lawn chair with my MP3 player until I gotta get ready for the stalag come 2pm.  I'm tellin' ya, these 8 hour days are awesome!!  I have all night to sleep and half a day to get stuff done (oil change, grocery shop, hair cut, etc.).  did I mention awesome...?  it's worth sayin' again.  another benefit of 8's is if I eat a good meal before, I don't even need to bring a big lunch.  yesterday, I brought me a bag of chips and that was enough to hold me over 'til I was paroled (10pm).  it's kind of weird working with a new group of peeps, but so far it rocks! *crosses fingers that it lasts forever*

Bambi Mittens writes me about taking Rosie off my hands and having her buried at her place.  I told her it was too late being I had already set up the option of cremation. and although she asked about it a couple 3 months back, I completely brain farted and forgot (too many hours at the stalag).  she understands.  well, here.  I may as well cut and paste our conversation (read from the bottom up):

3)         she had been showing signs (over the past 5 months), her hind legs would off again/ on again not get her up the front porch steps, our walks were shortened significantly due to her getting tired fast, she stopped eating dry food all together (I had her on moist food only for the last month or two), and near the end I had to carry her outside each time she had to pee, sometimes actually having to lift and balance her butt so she could do her business.  right at the very end, she lost control of her front legs too.  all she did was lie on her Rosie-pedic bed  and pant.  she drank a lot of water, but then finally refused to eat anything.  she never showed any signs of suffering, yet I was wondering if I was just keeping her around for my own selfish purposes, so last weekend, I made the call and brought her in.  it was one of the toughest calls I've ever made, but it needed to be done.  she was the coolest dog ever!  thanks for letting me enjoy her geriatric days and thank you for the kind words.  you're a sweet heart. P.S. did I really have her around for 3 1/2 years...?  wow.  time flies when you got a cool mammal friend to hang with   jalane beckman 4:58 AM To: bribolthouse@hotmail.com   2)       I stopped by your house yesterday after work because I had questions, after all she did live with us for 10 years, we've been through alot in those years. Amy [Mitten's daughter] and I wanted to know if she died quietly at home or if she was having health problems and the vet suggested putting her down. The other question you already answered with the cremation. Rosie showed up at our house in June of 1998, she was full grown, so she had to be 17 years old! I know you're going through the same pain as I did with Jasmine. You loved her with all you had and she returned that love, I could see that when I visited her. I often thought in the past that I should have found an alternate way so I didn't have to give her up or put her down, but then I think about how the last 3 1/2 years were the best years of her life. You gave her those years. I had tears in my eyes all day Monday and I let myself cry on my way home after work after Carrie Underwoods Til I see you again came on the radio. The tears are here now just writing this. I know its too early now, but don't give up on loving another dog, this is the 6th dog I've had in my life and lost, even though the pain is horrible the joy and love they give is worth having them around. There are so many dogs at the animal shelter just waiting to be loved by you like Rosie was. You keep her paw print, you're the one who saved her and gave her the happiest ending to her life.   bri 12:10 AM To: jade mittens   1)     Hi Jalane.  I got your call (she left a crying voice mail), but it was too late. I had already set up for them to  have Rosie cremated.  forgive my short attention span (I've been working a billion hours a week and I'm more brain-dead than ever), you had mentioned it  before and it completely slipped my mind.  they are sending me a plaster impression of one of her feet, if you'd like that, I can send it your way.  throw me your address  if interested...here's hopin' you still have this email address (?!)

I really had no idea just how much of my time was spent with Rosie until the day after she was gone.  every time I sat down she demanded a foot rub (my feet against her neck).  every time I made something to eat, she'd always be either in the way (which I didn't mind unless I was cooking something that splatters like bacon) or she'd sit patiently off to the side staring up at me, front paws sliding back and forth on the linoleum in anticipation (I wish I had gotten video of this, it was way cute).  I'd always tell her "gotta let it cool off before I give you some"...always giving her something for being patient.  this morning, while making bacon, lettuce and tomato sammich  nobody stares patiently back.  while sitting in the living room, there's no one to give a foot rub to, and no one to let outside and drink a beer on the porch or take a barefoot pooperdog walk with, etc., and so on.  I miss her a ton!  I'll try to keep the sap factor down, but you get the idea. I seem to be ok with telling peeps at work about her, but every now and then (mostly when I'm home) I get a little drippy faced (time heals all wounds). like I said earlier, I made me some bacon, lettuce, and tomato sammiches on San Francisco sour dough bread (mmms!) for breakfast yesterday,  went top down (on the shrimpy bat-mobile) to the beach, walked the pier (nice day, but very windy!), came home (where it was a lot less windy) and hit the lawn chair to try and remove this winter 3th shift whiteness before heading off to the stalag.  it was a good day!  and again, I don't want to turn my "journal" into a month long entry of mournful sadness, but for now, I guess I'm in that mood, and that's ok...I got me some "Agave Wheat ale" (Breckinridge brewery, Colorado) to help me unsadden (word?) my mellow.  it seems to be workin'...I had some beers last night as well, and got some comforting comments on Facebook (as well as here on this site.  once again, see Hooeys comment below the last entry).  long story, short; I don't want to quash my current melancholic feelings, but I also don't want to turn this site into hundreds of entries of remorse and sadness (you get the idea).

and on a lighter note; man, am I diggin' on these 8 hour shifts!  also, I best call soon about my central air being broken before the thermometer busts up near 100 degrees (currently only highs in the 70's and cool nights in the 5o's, so I got a little time)

let see, otherwise...nothin' on me mind, 'cept for maybe another 'Agave Wheat...' *belch!*

*deep breath*  k.  I woke up this morning 'round 7:30.  took me a shower and waited for 8 to roll around, so as I can call the vet.  the receptionist has the world's hardest job, I'm thinking, after hanging up from that tearful call.  she isn't able to take her until tomorrow at noon, unless I simply want to drop her off and not be there while the procedure took place.  I don't know if I could bare to watch anyway, so she said bring her in any time, and we'll go from there.  Rosie feels completely paralyzed at this point.  she can't even hold her head up, so I wrap her up in a blanket and make that world's longest 4 mile trip to the vet. they treated her and I with huge amounts of sympathy (the receptionist even gave me a hug), I handed her over, took her collar off (for memoir sake), said goodbye and left.  McDonald's is right across the street.  they prob'ly don't get a lot of peeps cryin' as they order a egg McMuffin..... anyway, the put-down procedure includes cremation and a small plaster impression of her foot which I thought was the neatest thing to offer. once home, I wash and collect all her beds, food dishes, toys, etc., and put them in the shed (for now).   she will be sadly missed *deep breath* *sob*

it's been awhile since I've driven the shrimpy truck, so when I stopped to get gas, I whip open the gas cover to reveal a good sized bees nest inside.  luckily only a few bees were still in the nest, so I didn't get stung.

alright, where do I begin?  Rosie, once again, goes into shut-down mode.  I mean all day yesterday, and thru-out the night.  this time including an annoying cough.  she's resting good now on her living room bed, but I got a decision to make.  she's definitely  telling me she's had enough.  now, it being Sunday, the vet would automatically tack on $200 (it being considered an emergency, due to it not being open today) plus whatever the procedure costs to have her put down.  I figure, I'll gladly eat that extra $200 if she shows signs of suffering (the coughing has since subsided), but if we can get thru today in a relaxed fashion, I'll bring her in tomorrow.  she went thru this before and bounced back, but I think the coughing is a tell tale sign.  the heart worms and age are doin' her in.  her immortality is wearing thin...and on a coincidental note my central air conditioner went on the blink (another sign? yeah, prob'ly not).  Brian has to give me his 2 cents on the situation (of which I didn't appreciate. it's my dog, my decision).   I reply; "don't make it tougher on me dude, I'm about to play Gawd on my best friend"...he doesn't seem apologetic about nosing in, but instead adds that he's had to bury animals in the past, and he's gone thru burying his own son (who died at a young age 20 some years back).  I just leave it at that. I could have argued it's one thing to bury something that's already dead, and completely another to make the decision to end life, but I wasn't gonna argue against anyone who uses the "...bury my own son" approach.

last week [at the stalag] ended with a couple 3-12 hour days, with the boss finally committing to having us start 8 hour shifts next week (awesome!).  we on 2th shift got this weekend off, 1nd and 3th had to work another 12'er last night.  long story, short; I start Monday at 2 and work 'til 10pm every day, which is way cooler than our old schedule!  rumor had it that it was only gonna last until mid-summer shutdown (we get a week or two off in July because our automotive customers shut-down as well), but the boss also confirmed that the 8 hour shifts will prob'ly be permanent (pending on how well the transition goes).  working 2rd shift will be weird to adjust to, but being able to sleep nights (like a real human) ought to be awesome!

let see, what else?  ordered pizza last night, and caught up on some new episodes of Futurama (between nursing an old dog, and what-not and drinking some craft beers).  both Mark and Brian separately suggest hitting the driving range today, but the weather looks most uncooperative.  maybe I'll just watch Tiger Woods lose this weekends PGA tour...

brand new clothes washer works great!  I'm able to do a huge load all at once (instead of several small loads).  so far, I dig it!

anything else? nope.

Brian, wanting to hit the driving range around noon, makes me hang out around the house and clean the windows in my car (along with the normal pooperdog walk,etc).  noon rolls around and he changes it all up by wanting to cut the grass (here, at his mom's, and his mom's neighbor) and hit Verizon to see why his phone is all tweaked (battery runs out in a couple hours on his new phone).  alright, well, I got all day, so I decide to head over to Best Buy, in the meantime, to check out new clothes washers.  turns out they had a dent and scratch model right at the entrance to the store, and being they're having their memorial day sale, I can get an extra 10% off.  sweet!  I grabbed it up.  it's an LG high capacity/ high efficiency washer  (I would have bought the dryer as well but it was electric and I don't need a new dryer at this point...) long story longer; they'll deliver it for free (this coming Friday), take away my old one for free, and hook up the new for free, so after all is said and done I'm paying just over $600 for an $850 washer (I know, they mark 'em high to begin with, but I couldn't resist a good deal). I look the model up on Consumer Report (their price range was $708 to $799).  it's in their "recommended" category (!).  it'll be good to get rid of that old clunky machine to be replaced by an HE model.

brats, pork loin, corn on the cob grilled to perfection along with some baked beans and red skin 'tator salad for sides, finished off with some strawberry shortcake (made by Brian's mom)...MMMMMMMMMMMMS!!  delicious!  I ended up crashing early when the first few beers plus a full belly made me super tired. before that, Brian and I hit the driving range.  we each hit a big bucket of balls.  he was beyond encouraging and most helpful in teaching me the basics.  it was fun!

just afterwards, Mark (work bud) calls and asks if I wanna hit the driving range.  I declined knowing the grill feast was about to begin, plus I was a little sore from using muscles I never use.  golfing takes a lot out of ya...

anyway.  back to the stalag tonight, so I best take a nap.  it was a most relaxing weekend!

re-reading the last couple of entries, reminds me just how much stress and pent up garbage I carry about work.  it's good to have a friend in Hooey to make me stop and think about the fact that even a crappy job is a good thing to hang on to during this half assed economy [read comment left by him on last entry].  thanks for pulling me out of that rattle snake pit of searing stress.  speaking of stress, there's little of it to be had this weekend. I'm able to catch up on badly needed sleep, take the pooperdog out for extended barefoot walks, etc.  a sixer of my favorite craft beer and some netflix top off each night nicely.  I was invited to a smallish bonfire at across the way Jay's last night, but looking out the kitchen window every now and then, showed me they never did it...maybe he meant tonight?  I'll keep an eyeball out.

went to the store yesterday and bought a gob of food to grill for tonight.  it was a good $60 worth .  we wanted to make sure there was enough for us as well as Brian's peroxide blondie and his mom (the cool hippy lady who lives down the street).  it ought to be a good grub-out

Brian asks if I wanna hit the driving range today...sure!

Jesus and Mary frickin' chain!  I survived another brutal long ass week at the stalag.  tonight lasted forever, waiting for the end of the shift for the news if we had to work this weekend or not?  being no one was willing to offer said info (as usual), I ask line support; "6 pm tonight?" (implying yet another 12'er). she replies "no pm".  I didn't hear the official word from da boss (as usual), so 'no PM' it is then.  a three day week will feel excellent, after so many long days with only one or no day weekends...still no news as to if we're going to 8 hour days, or not (?).  why do they gotta drag their damn feet for so long?!  can't they see their burning us all out?! peeps be gettin' hurt more, temps quittin' before they've actually started, etc.  it's a damn nightmare wrapped in a thick nappy blanket of bullshit.   anyway. just a quick entry, because I just hit a couple of ZZzquil, and I'm ready to saw some logs...g'night.

the stalag continues to do things in a poorly managed fashion.  things break down, maintenance half ass fixes it, now leaving the operator to have to deal with an extra step in the process to keep things going (lather, rinse, repeat).  tonight we had a couple bad pallets, but instead of taking them off the line, they left them at the end clogging the reject area...once again, making the person unloading the chairs have to work 4 times harder to get 1/4 of the parts needed per the hour.  on top of that, we have non-conforming packaging, a crappy printer that takes its damn time printing master labels, a scanner who's rechargeable battery is a piece of shit, garbage over flowing every waste basket (apparently the trash compactor was full for a week), etc., and so on, until you wanna scream!!  and that's just one station.  I'd go on about all the other stations, but you get the idea.  we're pullin' 12'ers again until this upcoming holiday weekend with the dry erase "threat" that states "3 day holiday is up to how you do"...another words, the boss wants to blame our bad numbers on the operators, when in fact the process and machinery are trash.  we're hiring new temps, but one has already left (the smart one, obviously) due to seeing what's goin' on and the ridiculous hours.

this morning I came home to a peed on kitchen (what's Rosie to do when I'm always at work?).  I'm sure Brian will have his say.  fuck that guy!  it's not his house.  it's Rosie's.  anyway. I busted out the mop and the linoleum cleaner and did a quick moppage of the perimeter.  the wood-panel submarine will get a good clean-over if I get that 3 day weekend *crosses fingers, but doesn't hold breath*

sleep.  gotta crash in order to get at least 8 hours in before another 12'er.  good gawd.  the torture never stops!

being a 3nd shifter, I pull one of those deals where I wake up this morning thinking it's 6:30 pm (DOH!).  I've done it many o' time before (usually after one of my  weekend benders), only realizing the sun's in the wrong spot when we're on our pooperdog walk....  speakin' of one day weekends, I have plans to head over to my local hardware store last night (to pick up a spigot, etc), and maybe do some Boston Market, when Brian (almost neighbor/room mate) asks if I can doggy sit his peroxide blondie's dog, followed by Mark (work friend) texting me about coming over.  suddenly, I find myself scrapping said plans and rushing to get something to eat to accommodate,  only to come to the realization that I only have a one day weekend, I'm gonna do what I planned.  I text Mark and Brian back letting them know I won't be available and continue on with my mission, picking up a couple of sixers of craft beer on the way home, to dig on whilst catching up on Netflix (Archer, Judge Dredd, etc). it was a good night to relax.

a solid week of 12 hour days ending with an 8 on Friday night will bring a huge paycheck next week.  I'm completely burned out!  good news is that the stalag is finally hiring temps in on a second shift schedule.  they haven't scrapped the idea of 3-8's like I thought they had [awesome!].  I can't wait to do my 2pm to 10pm thang once it starts...then I can only cross my fingers that it will remain in place for more than 3 weeks (like the last time they attempted this).  I'm thinkin' if it turns out to be a failed experiment, I'll have to put in my 2 weeks notice (I know; I've said that many times before, and, like a dumb-ass, I keep going back).

*itching while typing* man, those 'squiters  are vicious this time of year!  I do love spring time, but does there have to be blood sucking critters flying about so heavily?!  nein!

so, as I'm typing this, Brian pokes his head in and mentions he fed Rosie some expensive moist food (he likes to take over at times, mentioning that his moist food costs $3 a can).  I just fed her a half a can of moist food with a handful of dry.  then he starts throwing snacks all over the floor.  dude!  she's gonna bust at the seams if we BOTH feed her.  he doesn't seem to care.  oh well. it's not like she's a show dog or an athlete.  if anything, she'll die of old age with a full belly *fart*

Brian's had many o' run-in with our trailer trash neighbors, with their music being too loud too many times.  their lawn getting ignored, so he mows half of it, their trash not getting picked up week after week with the can over flowing, etc.  but this time they pulled a good one. Brian parks his car across the road from their driveway (wait! did I already write about this??  oh well, I'll keep going anyway), just to have said neighbor pull out and clown his passenger door.  he was ready to drive off as if nothing happened, had Brian not hollered at him.  the guy gives Brian all his insurance information, just to find out it's all bogus.  Brian, being the quick to kick everyone's ass type (but in this case, why not?),  calls the cops on him.  they couldn't arrest him on private property (for some reason), but were going to set up a car outside the trailer park to nab him.  I haven't heard nor seen from him since.  they must've got him.  anyway. just a quicky entry before getting ready for another 12'er at the stalag (yay prison!!).

well, the board was wrong (stalag's dry erase board), we didn't have to do 12's for the rest of the week after all. instead, we did 12 one day and 2-10's, leaving us with a one day weekend (yay!).  the longer days are greening the area up fast. seems the trees were pretty bare, just last week.   today seems more like an autumn day...mostly cloudy and down right cold.  freeze warnings are out for tonight (I guess so peeps can cover there outdoor plants?  otherwise, it sounds a bit silly to have such "warnings" after 5 good months of blustery winter).

speakin' of work, we had a new employee on the line next to us.  a young little cutey, that one day I was wondering how much cuter she could be had she not had those squared off bangs (ala that chick from 'Pulp Fiction), only to find out the next day she had been killed in a car wreck.  Mark says if only she had shown up for work that day, instead of taking the day off (she and a friend were on their way to Chicago veering across the median to avoid a road gator only to smack into an oncoming semi.  neither one survived).  my response to Mark was "or, she could have remained here at work only to have the roof cave in...who knows when and where it'll happen? "  here today, gone tomorrow.    I had a single mom friend (where I used to work) who always needed reassuring that things will be alright (being that she was a bit agoraphobic most times).  I'd give her hugs and let her hear what she wanted to hear.  it was a very huggy, yet platonic relationship.  next thing ya know.  same damn thing.  she's involved in a wreck.  died, leaving 3 young children behind.  I felt like I let her down.  fate is a fickle bitch and destiny is a whore [don't know where this quote came from, but it's fitting].

anyway, on a lighter note. tonight's brewage is a sixer of Bell's PORTER (Bell's brewing company. Comstock, MI) unt (if I don't pass out after that), a sixer of 1554 (New Belgium Brewin co) to relax away my one day weekend...

Mark (work bud) and I hit IHOP this morning after work, then head to his place to hang Fatheads (those vinyl posters of sport figures...you've seen the ad), then a good pooperdag walk, shower, nap to start my one day weekend.  BEER ME!

my 'to-do list' includes getting a new spigot to attach the garden hose to.  seems this one may have bitten the dust this winter.  how can I warsh me dune buggy with a bad spigot?

good gawd!  it's Thursday, and we got 36 hours to go to complete this week

...did I mention I don't want to die in this place?  whatever. gotta get ready for the stalag.

alright, I talked to my boss yesterday, and he says the day shift supervisor wants us to begin 3-8 hour shifts maybe starting next week (shweet!).  meanwhile, we get word, at literally the last minute before punching out this morning, that we're working 12's for the rest of the week (including Friday and Saturday).  good gawd!  just the prospect alone gets me all edgy...are these 12'ers going to carry over into next week too, or are they really going to make that 8 hour shift change *this is me, once again, not holding my breath*

just got done with a quick pooperdog walk, fed the critters, now I best hit the hay being I gotta be back to work in about 10 hours...

last week ended in 10's with an 8 hour Friday, and a day off on Saturday (...awesome!). 

[...]

rarely does Rosie bark, but every now and then she'll give me a whine, prompting me to pat her belly so she can burp.  she inhales that moist food, so I gotta burp the baby.   a good *BELCH!* ensues...

yesterday, the Kid gives me a call.  I haven't talked to him in ages, although, I have been snooping about on his facebook page, to make sure he's still alive (as he prob'ly does here, for the same reason...Hi Kid!).  seems he's got a job as a Ford wheeler dealer (ummm...car salesman.  awesome!), and as I'm chattin' widdum, I walk around the wood-panel submarine to see where the dog might be hiding (me, just coming back from getting my hair-cut, and grabbin' some lunch at Steak 'n' shake).  she was nowhere to be seen.   as the Kid and I are almost finished with our conversation, the silly dog wanders from behind a trailer (about 3 east of mine) covered in algae, mud and soaking wet.  she obviously went for a swim in the pond on the corner lot.  I throw swamp dog in the tub and shampoo the muck away).  I also have that day off, so a good couple of sixers of craft brew and a movie or two on Netflix gets me through the night.  it was a good one day week-end.

Brian, meanwhile, grills a couple packages of brats (mit some mixed veggies and corn), while I slept on Sunday, for me to snarf for breakfast before work as well as take some for lunch.  he also cuts the lawn for the first time this year, and fertilizes it with some weed and feed I bought a week or two back.  he digs doin' yard work, so why not?

I do me some online banking, where, once again, I feel like I've accomplished throwing a good chunk of money toward debt (some $274 toward the Kid loan), but after doing so, I realize that I hadn't paid the rent (DOH!).  creative financing finds extra money to cover most of my mistake.  the rest will have to be taken from my overdraft protection (unless the park doesn't cash my check for another week plus...sometimes she waits 3 weeks into the month before cashing 'em).  either way, I'm covered.  I haven't had to rely on my overdraft protection for eons.  I'm sure the OD fees are through the roof by now?  we'll see...

my Index finger still bothers me from time to time.  I get a letter from the underwriters insurance claiming it won't be covered due to it didn't happen at work (??).  I explained to 3 different peeps at work about how I injured it at work, just to have this letter claim that I didn't injure it at work?  who let 'em know otherwise?  the med center?  our HR?  anyway, I'll bring the letter to HR and get it taken care of.  I'm not paying for x-rays for a finger I clearly hurt at work...[news at 11]

ok, 8 hours work on Monday, the rest (so far); 10's,  with the rumor that we may actually get a 1 day weekend (this is me, not holding my breath).  surprisingly, the difference between 12 hour days and 10's is gigantic! those extra 2 hours of zombification are wicked bad! I get asked, once again, if I'm interested in working 2th shift?  yep! (I'll do any shift, as long as it's 8's).  I thought the project was scrapped, being they (1) didn't get that last volunteer for line support, and they (2) just walked one of the volunteers out for sexually harassing one of the girls on our line.  we did get a replacement temp, so I guess they're still looking at 2rd shift as a go [news at 11]

the weather is PERFECT!  sunny and warm (...finally!). I catch a half an hour here and there, mit beer in hand, on the lawn chair, trying desperately to lose this ghostly 3nd shift winter paleness.  with the long hours, I find a single beer after work, and one mid-day satisfies my crispy liver (while zero beers are the norm for 12 hour days).

Rosie's still kickin'.  we just shared a turkey bacon ranch wrap left over from yesterdays lunch (not eaten, due to Mark bringing in some tacos for me. mmmms!) and a 'milk stout Nitro' (left hand brewing co.) whilst on der porch.  I got another minute, maybe some more sun will do...

12 hour days during the week, 10's on both Friday and Saturday (DOH!).  peeps (including me) get anxious and pissy, workin' all these hours together.  it's pure torture.  then to top that off, I get grief from Brian (once again) about my dog.  when will he learn that this is her house?!  don't like it? get yer own place!  damn! (see?...pissy).  Rosie's in complete recovery mode.  I've been feeding her 1/2 dry, 1/2 moist food, and she's eatin' (peein' unt poopin') like a fiend.  she, of course, still shows signs of being a million years old, but she's not all lethargic and in shut-down mode like last week...keep on truckin' you army tank of a poodle!

we were told (stalag) that once we get enough peeps to volunteer for a 2st shift, we'd start immediately.  now the news changes to "well, now we have to hire a couple temps to replace the peeps that volunteered, and have them trained before anything can proceed."  GOD dammit!  that'll be another 2 weeks to a month (plus) before we even start thinkin' about working 8 hour shifts.  I've been, many o' times, disappointed before at this place, this is just one more occurrence.  can I hold out doing 12's for that long?  I'm already frazzled to the edge, and I had a week off, what, about a month ago? (heh! it seems that far back).  I really, really need to find a 40 hour a week job.  I'd rather live in adverse poverty with the minimum work thang (slackers credo), than having to work until I die at this god forsaken place (did I mention there's what looks like a head stone out in front of the building?  I don't want my name on that damn thing...)

anyway...got's to get ready for another exciting stint.  I considered takin' me a sick (beer) day, but then again, it's our double time day.  nothin' like makin' 250 bones (pre-tax) in one day!  I used to bitch about having one day weekends, now I miss them.  oh well.

alright, my finger didn't twang me too bad today.  maybe the nice HR lady was right...although, I prob'ly should get a second opinion, from, say, a REAL doctor.  I'll see about gettin' it done when I go in for my cholesterol re-check.

ok,  the stalag's rumors about a second shift are coming to fruition.  we had a meeting today to try and get 4 peeps to go on second.  Mark and I are the only ones that raise our hands.  the supervisor says if there isn't anyone else who volunteers, it means we'll stay the course on 7/12's. followed by "think it over, if you change your mind, get back to me".  I was most discouraged getting back to my station.  I was sure no one else would volunteer.  this was my last chance to try and get an 8 hour job without starting over somewhere else...then,  just like that, I'm told that Kent and Chaz volunteered!  [AWESOME!].  I thought that was that, but then we're told that we also need someone to line support.  here's hopin' they find someone on days for this position.  if 2th shift actually happens, we'll strictly be running 2 way manuals (which are the easiest, yet the fastest paced).    2pm to 10pm beats the shit out of 6pm to 6am.  *crosses fingers that this isn't yet another golden carrot that gets yanked from under us, as the stalag often does*

sleeep! I didn't get enough of it yesterday.  I figured I wouldn't take sleeping pills in case HR called, to have me go to their doctor to fix my finger.  bad mistake!  I was thrice the zombie I normally am.  6am took it's damn time coming around.  *yawn*

ok, a quick pooperdog walk in the rain...now, sleep!

Rosie's her good ol' self again, wakin' me up by flapping her ears by my face every couple hours, so she can go outside and do her pooperdog thang.  meanwhile, sleep is what I need the most, due to our line suddenly turning into a 12 hour day/7 day a week thing.  shit!  and speaking of the stalag, I re-injure my index finger, claiming it to be the first time, being I injured it doing the same thing a week or two ago (blah, blah). my supervisor blows off the accident report (as most do). "we'll get it after next break", then when he's nowhere to be found, I remind him later..."you can fill one out after work".  again, not knowing where he is at the end of the shift. the next day, I bitch about it to our production handler.  "if I tore my arm completely off I'd be dead before the supervisor responded". she just goes into his desk and grabs one (right on!).  I fill it out and turn it in (a day later) to the boss's boss.  he says "I'll turn it into HR and see if we can get that looked at for ya".  awesome!  I called HR tonight (22 hours later), and she claims she never got it.  anyway, long story; longer:  she determines from the phone conversation, that I don't need to see a doctor, and just do light duty work for a couple days. nice!  I let her know that there's not a lot of "light duty" things to do on that line.  my index finger is used as a trigger finger on a lot of stations driver guns...she's still convinced that I'm good to go.  it just needs rest.  little does she know I injured it before my vacation, and rested it for an entire week, but I can't bring that up.  oh well. it's just a finger, I got 9 more.

last day of vacation, and Rosie starts acting all lethargic, not being able to move her back legs at all.  she slept all day, not moving from her spot next to my bed. I bring her water and food and put it next to her, trying to at least coax her to drink.  I bring her outside before I went to work. I had all I could do to get her to balance (once I was able to pick her up and arrange her legs not unlike a folding table, if you will).  she started to squat to pee (which is better than I expected) only to have her hind legs give out during mid-pee making her sit right in the puddle she just created. I lift her butt just enough so she could finish, then unfold her to an upright position, so I could pick her up and bring her into the house.  I left for work thinking this is the last time I'll see her alive.  I was so convinced that this was it (this, being about the 4nd time over the past 8 months).  I drove home slowly, not wanting to face the truth.  I almost started crying when I got home, because usually there's a happy dog out on the porch, waggin' her tail when I arrive.  as I'm walking toward the door, I give a glance behind Brian's Explorer to see she's standing in the yard wagging her tail (yAY! she's alive!!).  we take a tiny walk so she can do her thing.  she peed, unt pooped without the help of me balancing the table.   we make (and share) some scrambled eggs mitt cheese, english muffins, and a tall glass of milk.  not only is it good to see her walk and poop, to see her eat and drink again is huge!  I know there can't be a lot of time left in the old girl, but any day she acts non-lethargic is a good day!

we work and 8 hour day last night, I'm sure the coming days will be 10's and 12's.  a couple good things happen while I was away.  they (stalag) went back to the old packaging (much easier to deal with when unloading chairs), and there are many a rumor that they may incorporate a 2th shift,  making 3 shifts of 8 hours instead of 2 shifts of what feels like 100 hours a day.  oh PLEASE let this rumor be true. I'd even consider working 2rd shift if it'll help get it implemented quicker. [news at 11].  my angst level would go down considerably if we only did 8's.

anyway, gotta hit the rack to be all refreshed before tonight's stint...

he asked?!  I told it like it is...he laughs as if I'm joking.  I'm laughing at the fact that he thinks I'm kidding.  lemme back up.  Brian and his peroxide girlie were (once again) jaw jackin' in the living room while I try and catch up on my shows (I was there first...whatever, it's fine, it's HULU, so I can rewind when they move to their room).  blondie mentions something about Brian's OCD (because he was in the kitchen getting ready for work the next day).  Brian asks me (smiling as if to be proud of his anal retention), and I said: "I'm regularly changing my routine to fit within his OCD regiment" [paraphrased].  it's beyond true.  certain things like hanging Rosie's coat on the coat rack.  he decides he wants his coat on the rack, so not wanting dog hair on his coat, he finds yet another place where I'm to keep her things (I say "yet another" because this is about the 4th move he's decided to make for her stuff).  I don't mind change so much, but damn.  imagine this one thing multiplied by 20.  it gets old catering to his every whim.  he doesn't pay enough rent to change everything to his liking, yet I guess I'm passive enough to let it go on. he'll get down right angry at my dog, even though it's her house.  she's not wrecking anything of his...I'm OK with her dog being here (even though I was never asked if it was ok).  you get the idea.  I get up early the other day, remembering that I left the kitchen a mess.  knowing that if I don't clean it up, he'll throw up his arms and clean it for me, even after I tell him I have all day to clean.  anyway, this time I get up early and start to clean, he comes in (this being 5 in the morning) and asks why I'm up so early (again, I tell it like it is)? " I don't want the cleaning Nazi to get mad at me".  and, once again, he laughs as if I'm joking

after grocery shopping yesterday, I make me some gigantic turkey cheese burgers (using the leftover tomatoes unt lettuce from my BLT fixin's). mmmmmmmms!

the weather outside is horrendous, so I play me a lot of golf indoors (PS3 Tiger Woods), power-nap and take smallish pooperdog walks in between bouts of rain, getting caught in a complete downpour more than once.  the temp hovered right around freezing for awhile producing hail/sleet.  we got three inches of precip within a small period of time making the small creek near the parks entrance over flow (reminiscent of a couple 3 years ago, when the bridge collapsed).  this time the bridge stayed put, but the water was too deep to drive through in my shrimpy bat-mobile.  this is the only entrance/exit to the park, other than driving down a two track through the next door farmers field.  I thought it was an interesting ride in my shrimpy truck.  it's even more interesting in a car that sits lower than the hump between the two wheel ruts.

Thursday, I hit the second hand stores and Chinese buffet, due to the weather being too bad for, say, (real) golf.  of this whole week, there was only one day where I could bust out my lawn chair.  I guess I'll need to take next years vacation in May.  don't get me wrong, it's been great to have a complete week where I don't have to even think about the stalag.  [oh crap, I'm thinking about the stalag whilst typing a sentence about not thinking about it. how do I flush this toilet in my head?]

anyway, the pooperdog and I just got done with a smallish walk.  I'm gonna ramble out and find me some breakfast...

a good head of lettuce, a couple tomatoes, some multi-grain bread and some turkey bacon bought last weekend has lasted me nicely for a good many BLT's (mmmmmmms!).  I burnt the crap out of a couple pieces of toast, throwing them in the yard, only to have the garbage eating pooperdog devour them as if char coal is better tasting than that $30 dog food I buy her.  speaking of da mutt, she doesn't so much like walking during the constant thunderstorms we've been having lately, she instead turns and pees right on the livingroom carpet between the TV and me (this after many times of trying to coax her outside with treats).  did she forget about the ok spot on the kitchen linoleum, or was that too close to where the thunder sound comes from?   I check today and tomorrow's weather and it's much of the same (rain turning to snow tomorrow afternoon).  I mean, I used to be afraid of thunderstorms too, 1000 years ago when I was a kid (I completely enjoy 'em now), but I'd try and at least make it to the toilet (when I didn't wet the bed, but that strays from the point).  anyway, she's a good dog.

and speakin' of da mutt (part 2rd), we got her all licensed up for the year ($10 and a rabies shot), along with a 3 month supply of flea and tick stuff (for the dog and cat), crossing off yet another item from my to-do list.  I started heading into the ER for my finger problem, but it has been feeling much better with this time off.  I guess I'll wait to see if I re-injure it at work, then claim it happened right then...what? it did happen at work, why not make it official?  it's not as if I hurt it at home (blah, blah, whatever).  here's hopin' the week off will make it go away, all together.

betwixt small bouts of rain, I clean my shrimpy bat-mobile inside and out, also cleaning the windows on my shrimpy truck (completing yet another item on my to-do list.

looks like Rosie wants to try another wet walk, wish us luck....

a couple rounds of golf at Torrey Pines (PS3) with my morning coffee yesterday from Joes2go restaurant here in town.  I'm trying to discover new food venues that match my discovery of Kozak's 2 a couple years back. [Kozak's 2 is where I now routinely go for the world's bestest Gyro and root beer combo...mmmmmmms!], sadly Joe's2go, whilst having some real good coffee, lacks a bit on it's microwaved egg, sausage unt cheese sammich.  oh well. onto the next mom and pop shop as I discover them.

I grab my putter and wander down to the golf course.  they have a smallish putting green set-up that's free to use (as long as you have your own club and golf balls).  I'm worse than I thought about hitting the broad side of a barn.  oh well.  keep practicing.  it rained most of the day, but in between, I vacuumed out the dune buggy (shrimpy bat-mobile), and snuck in a couple pooperdog walks.  add a good afternoon power-nap and it was a good day. 

I call my doctor about my hurt finger (it hasn't slowed my typing down obviously), and because I mention that it happened at work, he'll have nothing to do with looking at it.  he suggests I tell work what happened and go from there.  meanwhile, the stalag has always had a strict policy that if you get hurt, no matter how insignificant, report it.  I'm afraid now that I'd get in trouble due to this policy, being it happened a good week or two ago.  Brian suggest I hit the emergency care place here in town and lie about how it happened. I guess that'll work. what's a smallish lie gonna hurt if it gets my finger the attention it needs?  wait, I'm talking as if I've never lied before.  I do it everyday!  after all, I am human.

my new fone works great as an MP3 player.  I also set it up so I can read my email, and do facebook on it. also, after a good drop onto the driveway, I'm prompted to buy me one of those silicone covers with a clear plastic screen protector.  amazon.com replied yesterday, saying the order was shipped (USPS), usually meaning it'll be in the mailbox today.

I prob'ly have to run into the next big town over (Grand Rabbits) in order to find me a couple new belts for my washer.  it's on my to-do list, along with finally getting some stairs for the back door. we'll see just how much of this long to-do list can actually be accomplished with-in my week of slack

my first weekday of my 'stay-cation' and someone goes and blows up a couple bombs (apparently) at the Boston Marathon.  it wasn't me.  honest, you can ask 'Squab.  Rosie and I were home almost all day.  seriously though, it is a sad thing when someone fucks up someones day that bad.  why are there so many malicious pukes in this world.  what was their motive?

back to sleep for a spell.  I'm still not used to being awake during the day.  that's why my recent entries were written in the middle of the night (mostly while the pooperdog is busy poopering).  g'night.

the Masters came down to a shoot out between Angel Cabrera and Adam Scott.  Scott wins becoming the first Aussie to ever win the Masters (Greg Norman and many others have come in second but never 1st).  pretty cool game to watch, plus Brian grills some pork choppy thingers mitt sweet 'tators unt asparagus (mmmmms!). on top of all that, I've been bathing in 'dead guy ale: ROGUE'. it were a good day! 

peroxide blondie leaves her ewok here while she goes to work, so Rosie, ewok, and I go for a pooperdog walk.  they behaved well with each other right up until both were by the front door, when pooperdog decided to launch a blitzkrieg style attack (they both feel as if they should be the alpha dog, but this time Rosie won).  the ewok has a noticeable limp, so I check for the normal puncture wounds/leaky reddish thing. nothin'.  it's not long before the limp is gone.   they haven't fought since.  here's hopin' that spazzy ewok remembers who's boss. Rosie can be a grumpy old girl, but why not?  it's her house, right?! yup.

weather wise, the day started with snow and wind, ending up partly sunny, calm and 50's.  typical springy shite.  I can't wait 'til it gets warmer (except for the being boiled alive part at the stalag...I remember that kinda suckin').  my shrimpy bat-mobile is dyin' to go topless...

anyway.  back to sleep for a bit.  the pooperdog prob'ly needs help gettin' up the porch stairs (currently, she's out poopering).

a whole week off from the stalag!!  actually, nine days when ya count the free weekend off before and after.  man, after what seems like a month and a half of 1 day weekends and no weekends at all, I'm in "heaven".  these first couple days are simply relaxing with many power-naps, pooperdog walks, unt beers, with a little grocery shopping and cleaning of the wood-panel submarine thrown in betwixt.  I'm watching a lot of the Masters [golf] as well.  it's been a great start!  now if the weather can just get over that 50 degree mark and get a bit less windy, I can grab my clubs and pretend like I know how to play.

about a week before my 'stay-cation' I bang my index finger at work making it feel half busted (I randomly get stabs of pain while performing certain work).  of course, it's my trigger finger for many of the drivers on the line, so re-injury is common.  I'll call my doc on Monday and see if he can fix it.  it's already better now that I've had a couple days to rest it...

Brian (almost neighbor/room mate) is in complete anger mode, the other day, on the phone, whilst talking to a merchant who apparently lost his package during shipping.  the tracking site says it was delivered, but it wasn't dropped here.  he's beyond angry (as he sometimes gets) when the person on the phone doesn't seem to want to cooperate.  long story; short, he finally gets a new package (which I find out later, are a pair of shoes) shipped overnight to try and appease the monster (I mean, he was really lettin' 'em have it!).  he opens the box, only to find two right shoes in it.   I was on my way to work at the time, but couldn't hold back the laughter.  I'm glad I wasn't home to hear the next phone call he had to make...

for the longest time, I couldn't find my tracfone.  I'm guessin' a good 3 weeks went by without having a clue as to where it is.  I figured it's about time for a new one anyway, so I look up, and purchase what looks like one of only two 'smart phones' offered.  it's pretty cool!  the coolest part (so far, besides it having an awesome camera) is that it's WIFI compatible, so as long as I'm in or around my shack, I can call, text, and web without using any minutes [awesome!].   before I port my phone over (from the other one I can't find), I anguish over possibly losing the 200 minutes installed on the old one, and commence to tearing apart the house (you have to have the old fones SIM code to transfer minutes to the new).  eventually, I find the damn thing underneath the passenger seat of my shrimpy bat mobile.  the transfer process was a success.  it's a cool fone! I was wondering when they'd come out with a 'smart fone' with no contract? it's pretty stripped down (compared to Brian's Samsung), but still I'm able to upload and run JAVA apps on it (of which there are many free ones). now I'm on my way to living in the 21st century.

gave Rosie a bath today, but I'm sure she'll wake up with a wet hip again.  she's still truckin' along!  Brian's peroxide blonde girlfriend brings her little dog over often.  it and Rosie are becoming better friends. meanwhile, Brian gives me hell (again) about Rosie peeing in the kitchen (where I want her to pee, if she doesn't wake me up to let her out, being linoleum is a lot easier to clean, and all).  I can explain to him 'til the end of time, that it's her house and room mates who pay the world's cheapest rent shouldn't gripe, but he'll never get it.  sometimes I wish he had his own place so I don't have to listen to the grumbling...oh well. 

that's enough nothingness, maybe I'll try and get some sleep...