Wash, Record, Complete

Happy birthday to me!

The girls let me sleep late. Really late. We're talking 10 o'clock here. They get all my money when I go.

After a quick trip to the mall, we went and got the car washed. I introduced 94 to my miniDV and she used it to call the play-by-play. Multi-colored foam, big blow dryers, awesome! Conclusion: the girls fight too much. The tape reveals way too much bickering. And I play right into it, refereeing and getting generally iritated.

"Hi, I'm 97, and I'm beautiful!"

"No you're not"

Followed by hair pulling, kicking, and words like poop-brain and stupid-dummy.

Great.

I'm trying to work on it by turning around in the car and yelling "what's the problem, knock it off". Wow, that's great stuff.

The girls are in love with Dundee. Both at the same time. Who's Dundee? There you go with the questions again! Dundee is a Beanie Baby dog. He's now my desktop wallpaper. You see, he was at the Tea Shop, but today he was gone. Of course the internet to the rescue. Now the girls want to chip in to order one. Or two.

Bed Time Ritual

For years, 97's bed time ritual has been to say good night with this:

"Love you, won't let the bed bugs bite, promise, cross my heart won't break that promise promise promise."

I can't believe I haven't written this down until now. It is the cutest thing. Of course, when it comes out it sounds more like:

"loveyouwontletthebedbugsbitpromisecrossmyheartwontbreakthatpromisepromisepromise"

This is usually followed by a rousing version of:

Me: Good Night
94: Sleep Tight
97: Dream of bed bugs tonight

Fine, that last part is not original, I know, because I think it comes from Lion King 1 1/2.

I Dream of Teeny

I have average sized hands. My fingers are a bit stubby, but all-in-all I'm fairly dextrous. I can play the piano, type, and sew the occaisonal button fluently.

Why am I telling you this? Because last night I assembled a computer. So what, you query? First of all, quit asking so many dang questions, I'm getting there. Secondly, do you realize how ill-fitted the phalanges of the white anglo-saxon are for this task?

We're talking about a very humbling process here. Imagine trying to milk one of those really teeny-tiny cows I sometime see on my shoulder. That's how trying this was.

Oh, and do you know they're making Pentium 4 processors powered by uranium now? And video cards that require their own dedicated substation? Yup, and I got me one of each! Hope the neighbors don't mind their lights dimming when I shoot the bad guys.

Software comes in boxes, right? So when you are frantically searching for the DVD drive and you can't find it and then you give up and then later you unwrap your Windows XP "box", you don't expect to find the DVD drive in the same bubble wrap, do you? No, I didn't think so.

Right, oh, and I also found out what happens to missing socks. They get recycled into all sorts of funky looking leftover cables, bits, and bobs. Then they sit in your desk drawer waiting patiently to be needed, at which time they promptly disappear.

FAIR WARNING (like you really care)

Saturday is my 41st birthday. I will have been alive nearly 15,000 days. Or 359,160 hours. Or 21,549,600 minutes. Or about 1.2 billion seconds.

Girls: when I was your age:

There was no cable TV

There was no internet

There were no computers as you know them

We believed some of our politicians

There were no microwaves

We had no water, so we melted ice

There were no video games

Dinosaurs roamed the earth

I demand your well wishes. You may comment them to me here on this entry. Now. C'mon, hurry it up already! ...um... please?

Ad Enoid Her, So Out They Came!

Hope there's an award for the lamest entry title, 'cause I think I just clinched it.

97 had her adenoids taken out yesterday. Surgery and after stuff went well. Thank God. No, really God, thank you thank you thank you!

Pieces of my new PC began trickling in yesterday. Got the monitor and speakers. Of course I had to do a quality check on the stuff, so I connected them to my laptop. Ho! No way! My windows desktop is now about an acre at 1278 x 1024 resolution, and I've never had a speaker system so nice. Played some music, and a few games of NFSHP2 for good measure. Awesome! Can't wait for the rest of the stuff.

Oh, got the case too. WTF! This thing is a monster.

Why must I fast for 14 hours before routine blood work? Why oh why?! I think it is secretly just a running joke among doctors. "Hey, let's make our patients really sacrifice for their health care! Heh heh heh." Not funny.

Oh, and thank you very much, Burger King, for deciding I needed a BACON, egg, and cheese biscuit to break my 15 hour fast, rather than the SAUSAGE, egg, and cheese biscuit I actually ordered. Boneheads. In the immortal words of Johnny Carson: "If you want it your way, cook it yourself!"

Blinky Nose

Yesterday the kids and I went malling. Bought a cool Spongebob calendar at Waldenbooks. Then we found a dollar store. The girls have neat mood rings. Me? Yup, I had to have the magnetic flashing thing you can stick to your thinner body parts.

Now, the magnet on this thing is amazingly strong. I wore it in my nose in the mall for a bit and got a few laughs. You see, I was dressed in my Packers leather jacket and hat, so the frenetically flashy nose jewelry seemed amusingly out of place. Then I offered it to the girls, who anxiously accepted, until I reminded them of its most recent home. Then it was all ewwws and, like, Daaaaaaaaaaad!!

Today we hung around, taunted the cats, went to church, and watched a hilarious cat video.

Burnt Pocket

I am a raging impulse buyer, I admit it. Dammit, it's my tax return and I NEEDED a top of the line PC. Don't worry I won't over-geek you all right now, but let's just say that this is the Airbus of comfusers. Newegg rules!

Wow, I've spent so much time shopping for confusers, I haven't posted for a few days. Dammit, it's my time and I NEEDED... oh WTF, never mind.

I endured the season premier of American Idol on Tuesday. What possible pleasure could a person get from watching "adults" alternately degrading themselves and being humiliated by a pompous Brit?! Please never ask me to explain why I would voluntarily allow most every sensibility I posses to be assaulted. I frankly don't know. Maybe I'll tune in nearer the finals.

Alias was pretty good last night Jennifer Garner. Solid must have her plot and good Jennifer Garner character developjennifergarnerment. How heartening to have one marry me show Jennifer Garner on telejennifergarnervision that bespeaks the proud cinematic and prosaic traditions of sublime packing wood theater Jennifer Garner.

Tonight I'll finally get to watch the rest of Twin Towers. Yay!!

Thank you Woodge for the Gmail invite. Oh, and I highly suggest a visit to his site. He's kind of a pseudo-intellect-snob-wannabe (in a nice way), but I find his blog tres entertaining.

As a result of Woodge's generosity, I have a few Gmail invites available. If you're interested, let me know. Wow, there really are benefits from reading this blog!

I also really want to point you to zefrank.com. There is just a ton of fun stuff to try, and loads of zany flash stuff to watch. Don't be afraid, he hasn't bitten yet.

Adieu.

Supercooled Swimwear

As we prepared for church yesterday, the girls wondered where the brush was. After some furtive searching, I happened to see that the shampoo was gone too. Then it hit me. We left our gym bags in the car overnight.

Now, in a temperate climate, this would have been no big deal. Go out to the car and get the stuff. However, since temperatures here have been below zero for the past 3 days, this was going to be interesting.

I went out to get the stuff and start the car. When I stepped outside I heard a gasping sound punctuated by crackling. My lungs had frozen solid. At least I thought so until I heard a hoarse profanity echo off the school wall across the street. Nothing like sweariness to warm the lungs.

Started the car and opened the trunk and grabbed the bags. Did the penguin walk back to the back door (still icey) and lunged back inside. Then I noticed that the bags were very stiff. Got back upstairs and plopped them on my bed.

The hair brush, shampoo, and conditioner were frozen convincingly to the towels. Tight. After a tug of war we were able to free them. There was no way we were going to unroll the towels though. I just threw them into the bath tub to thaw.

After dropping the girls off yesterday, I bought a stereo for the car from Best Buy. $89 with free install. It'll be nice to have my tunes back.

Actually made it through Lord of the Rings - the Fellowship of the Ring last night. I honestly enjoyed it. I had tried this movie once before and just couldn't keep interested. It took some concentration, but this was a good movie. Guess I'll follow-up with Two Towers and Return of the King.

Cats, Cheese, and Swimming

The kids and I drove to the Clark County Humane Association to view their Kitty City, a room with about 20 cats for us to play with. Here's us with the cats.

Then we stopped by the Lynn Dairy, where we bought some yummy, fresh cheese curds.

After a quick stop for lunch at Mickey D's, we swam at the Y.

On the way home I picked up a new dresser and spent the evening assembling it. I rather like it.

Tooth Fairy

97 lost a top front tooth today. And then she truly lost the tooth. What to do? Why, just jot the Tooth Fairy (TF) a note explaining the matter. Sorted.

Actually, she was quite upset about it. After all, how will the TF find me and will she believe the tragic story?

Big Sis to the rescue. Thus, the Tooth Fairy Method, according to 94:

1) TF has a giant tooth map, which shows all people's mouths, everywhere
2) Said map is color coded, with different tooth stati showing in different colors
3) Using the map, TF has unequivocal evidence of 97's tragedy
4) I guess TF points to the mouth on the map and, ZAP, she is transformed into vapor to remain undetected, floats into the room, takes the tooth, leaves appropriate compensation, points to home on the map, and...
5) ZOOOM! TF is teleported directly back to TF land

According to 94, she's sure about this because, after all, she's had 10 years to figure it out.

Love love love love!

Waking Dream

Don't you love those dreams you have where you can control the action?

As I drifted off last night I had the most wonderful dream. I can't possibly describe it here because you know how nonsensical dreams can be. It involved me at a much younger age offering aid to a girl I guess I knew. We fell madly in love. All in about 5 seconds. It left me with a feeling of such hope and peace because I've actually had those experiences, though not the same circumstances. I'm very blessed.

Unfortunately I woke back up too soon, and couldn't return to that place. That's okay though, because the memory remains. Rare with me and dreams.

Also, the dream affected me so that I couldn't return to sleep. I got up and puttered about and went back to bed at about midnight, then lie awake thinking until about 2:30.

What did I think about? You know, I'm only 40 (and still get carded buying beer): I could shape up a bit and be quite the stud. These past two years since the divorce I've had absolutely no desire to do that. Until now.

Hmmm...

The Force

Divorce really sucks. What came before it was worse. Therefore I am fortunate. So are my children.

Good Boy?

Howdy is really a dog, methinks.

Sure, he's got cute cat ears, a long cat tail, and poops in a litterbox, but I think it's all just an act.

Lately he has needed to scream (bark) at me from the second I come home. Until I sit down. Then he needs to be up on my lap. Then he brings me things and wants to play "fetch". We finish the day with him curled up beside me in bed.

Now I've had a dog before. He was a Westie, so I know whereof I speak. Wait, upon reflection I suspect he was a fuzzy lightening ball who scratched at the patio window at 4 a.m.. No, he was definitely a dog. Maybe.

Anyway I loved that dog, but I didn't purposely adopt one from the Humane Society when I picked up Howdy. No, I'm looking at his papers right now, and they say "Male, neutered, tabby CAT". In black and white, no less, right in the middle of the coffee ring, as if for added emphasis.

This raises a boatload of issues: Do I have to take him for walks? Should I buy Dog Chow? Crap! My lease doesn't allow for dogs!!

Fellow bloggers, I'm at whit's end. Can anyone help?

Lunch

It is very theraputic to act like a 16 year old once in a while. It is downright cathartic to act like a 16 year old with three coworkers. In public.

Things at work are, well, suboptimal. Long-ignored discontent has lead to a really crappy morale situation. So, once in a while we need to get out and let off steam. The underpaid staff at our local Culvers now bears the burn marks from the aforementioned steam.

Now, before you let your imaginations go too wild, nobody was hurt and nothing was broken. And no, thank you very much, we were not kicked out. However, I must admit not participating (sober) in such an uninterrupted stream of juvenile humor and loud guffawing since high school. They wanted us gone, too, because we were asked by 4 different employees if they could clear our trays.

Now, when I say "juvenile humor", what do I mean? Here:

Female Coworker: "Maybe I can get that trucker to blow his horn."

Me: "Yeah, you'd love to blow that trucker's horn."

And that's the high-brow stuff.

Fastest hour I've spent in a long time. But, back to work we all dutifully went. Har humph.

Moss Moon Full Over Lambeau

I'm a reasonable man. As Packers fans go, I'm one of the biggest, but I can discern the truth about my team. We played terribly against the Vikings in the wildcard game. Honestly we didn't play well enough to win. Now our season's over. That's the NFL.

What's not the NFL is that punk with a 'fro, Randy Moss. Walks off the field last week, and this week he pretends to moon the fans at Lambeau. C'mon Randy! Grow a pair and show us your punk ass for real next time. And no comment from Mike Theiss, the bum? If you don't set limits for your kids, Mikey, they'll just keep walking all over you.

Alright, enough for that rant. Gonna be a long offseason.

Pretzels at Target

Okay, not exactly breakfast at Tiffany's. We had nacho pretzels at Target today for lunch. Cost as much as big kids meals at Mickey D's. Was the perfect lunch, though.

We love looking at the Target t-shirts. "Hah! Now you can't see me" is our all-time favorite. My nephew bought a "Wake and Bake" one in Sturgeon Bay over Christmas. I guess that's some drug reference. Awkward for me, though I am not a prude.

We went and saw Lisa's dogs and cats today. Been a while. We brought them woobies and cat toys. The fuzzy wooby was dead by the time we left. Torn to shreds. I predicted as much and was right. Absolute joy and fun.

At the end of "Princess Diarys II" the kids decided they absolutely had to see the "Break Away" video by what's her name... 29 times! Not only that, they were arguing over who got to sing. Typical sister stuff I guess.

We played Barbie Uno. Had Little Caesar's for supper.

I know it all sounds boring, but my time with the kids each weekend is pure magic. Makes it all worthwhile. Love love love them.

Name Plates in Flux

I'm a practical joker. It's in my nature. Some say I'm evil, some maintain I'm benevolent but mischevious. What matters is what I say. I say I'm brilliant.

Okay, at work morale sucks lately. There are alot of reasons. As I read others' blogs, it's the same old shit. I wanted to help. Fine, fine, fine, helping never crossed my mind (I rather enjoy seeing the inevitable results of management incompetence). Let's just pretend I wanted to help.

Right. Our name plates are secured to our doors via magnetic name plates. I can't tell you how much confidence this inspires in our continued employment. Recently a couple of employees have started switching name plates. Today I noticed that one shared office was advertised as being inhabited by both Mya Schmitd and Mya Schmitd (of course not their real names). That's right, two identical name plates.

Nice.

Not only that, some neighboring name plates had been switched around. The one I loved was a two-person office that, at one point, had five peoples name plates on it.

Heh heh! I got a brilliant idea. Why not come in one night with a large burlap sack. Into this sack one could put the name plates of every morale-impaired soul. Then randomly reassign those name plates. An email from the big boss tells everyone that they need to find their name plates and correct them. This would be a "get to know your coworker" ritual. Sure to boost morale, right?

I'll let you know how it goes, if at all. Of course, I'll just be monitoring -- not participating, and surely not instigating in any way.

Why Macho Poodle?

Okay, I really don't like poodles. I really, really, really fail entirely to like poodles. Standard poodles, fine. Toy poodles, yuck. Sorry, that's just the way it is. Curly hair, dirty brown streaks from the eyes and mouth, yippy, and just too freakin' big for their britches.

94 loves to taunt me about this. She claims she'll breed poodles when she grows up, and I told her I'll eat 'em.

So, why Macho Poodle? Simple. A nod to 94, and a great running joke. My kids mean everything to me. I want them to read my blog, and when they do, I want them to giggle.

I want you to giggle, too.

No, I don't eat poodles. Sheeeesh!

Howdy!

This is Howdy (that's the name he came with from the rescue shelter).

Magic Minerva!

This is Minerva (named after Minerva McGonagall from Harry Potter).

Greetings, Earthlings

Hi, it's me!

Please allow myself to introduce... myself. My name is Teken, which is Dutch for Mark. I know this because Babelfish says so. I have two wonderful girls, whom I'll lovingly refer to as 94 and 97 (the years of their respective births). I also have an X, to whom I'll refer as, well, X.

I was born a poor black child... only I'm white and my parents were middle class. I grew up in beautiful Appleton, Wisconsin -- a mere 30 miles south of The Frozen Tundra. That's right, Lambeau (Lambert if you're into failed Dems) field. I love me the Packers.

I live now in Marshfield, Wisconsin (oops wrong link, try THIS)-- a mere 30 miles south of precisely nowhere. Smack dab in the middle of it, I guess you'd say.

Let me introduce Minerva, my 8 year old Calico cat. Pictures soon. She's old and blind, and suffers from some sort of rare, but undiagnosed, slime-producing disease. Yes, I've taken her to the kitty clinic, and they said she's fine. My walls are spattered with evidence to the contrary, but what do I know.

I'd also like you to meet Howdy, my 2 year old Tabby cat. He's young and playful, and a real pain in the ass sometimes. He has no odd diseases, but when he "goes", they smell it downtown. Whew!

I drive a 1997 Mercury Grand Marquis LS. I love me my big car. [note: I'm really not illiterate, I just enjoy the phrase "I love me my..."]

Stick around and check back often, I intend to post frequently. My goal is to make friends and make you laugh. If you read Macho Poodle, give me a hollar -- it's a big, lonely net.

"Profanity is the last refuge of the fucking ignorant."
-Teken, 2004