Repressed Memmeries

Existential questions

Why do I continue to pay for this place?

I haven't written anything of substance here in a long, long time. Between Facebook and now Twitter, the few minutes I get alone with my thoughts are consumed there, in nice and tidy, don't-have-to-think-about-much soundbite form.

Frankly, I'm getting a little bored with the intertubes. Does anyone else feel that way, like it's just another tool to help you get into a rut, albeit a rut with shiny objects grafted on to it?

Ruts are easy. Ruts are fun. Let's have ruts for everyone.

It's so much easier than actually having real communication with those around you. But nowadays, it may be the only way to communicate with some people. Most people. I suppose that works well in our ADD-esque society.

But I'm really coming to despise it.

Cranky Ol' Man Memmer, that's me.

Isn't there a better way to go through life than just in bits and pieces? Isn't there more to life than 160 characters?

Now excuse me while I try to figure out how to cross-post this to my Facebook page before I go off to check my e-mail...

One Of Those Days

Ever have one of those days where nothing seems to go right?

Like when you pack your lunch but forget to take your medicines?

Like when you remember to grab your coffee mug but you forget your badge that you need to get into work?

All this before 7:30 am. Hell, I can't WAIT to see what the rest of the day holds.

And yes, I'm grumpy.

[EDIT] Crap - has it really been two and a half months since I wrote anything around here?

My Birthday, circa 2009

Well, we survived the trek up Beef Mountain last night (aka. "Jim's Peak"), and more importantly, the kids got their steak fix on.

So, one shiny new garden tiller, one "National Treasure" on Blu-Ray and more than one Best Buy gift certificates that will soon be put to good use later, we got Laura all packed up for her birthday trip to Vegas. She's leaving right after work today for four fun-filled days Sin City with mi madre! (Whatever happens in Vegas stays there, honey. Unless, of course, you hit the million-dollar slot. That you can bring home.) :)

Like I was telling my Mark and my Barbara last night on Facebook, I'm just amazed when I find that I've actually made it to the next one! I took one of those "What's your real age" tests last night and it said that I was actually 31. Clearly, I'm assuming what it did is find the median between how old I feel and my mental age.

Finally, a Big Thanks to everyone for all the nice cards, kind words and encouraging thoughts. I think I'm gonna need them this weekend when it's just me and the punkins....! (Just kidding, honey - we'll be fine! Go - have a good time!)

There are times when I really wished I believed in Hell.

After three weeks, the search for Duncan and Jack Connolly, the two boys kidnapped by their father, came to a tragic end yesterday as the bodies of all three were found in a remote field in Putnam County, Illinois.

People here are pretty shaken up about it. LeRoy is a small community that is home to many employees here at The Farm. My buddy's wife is a therapist that works with schools in that area, and she found out first yesterday when they pulled all the teachers and staff in for a meeting early yesterday morning.

This was the first "unsupervised" visit that they boys' father had in awhile after a long history of abuse, restraining orders, misdemeanors an the recent loss of his employment. His wife had expressed her concerns for the boys' safety several times with the judge, apparently.

I've been shaking my head for the last 24 hours in disbelief. How could any man do that to his own children? How? If he was that screwed up, why was he ever given unsupervised visits? This was clearly premeditated, as the father had made statements about wanting to punish their mother, his ex-wife. So, this stupid bastard had this planned for a long time, and it wouldn't surprise me at all if he had been putting on a good facade for the courts and everyone else just to get the one visit he needed to carry out this fucking tragedy.

All this to murder his own fucking children. I want retribution. I want this evil motherfucker to pay. At times like this, I really see the appeal of believing in things like Heaven and Hell - it's for situations like this that our ancestors created those concepts. They don't exist, though, no matter how much wishful thinking we put towards it... all we have is what we have, here, now, in front of us.

I've been making sure to give my kids extra big hugs and kisses over the last day.  Things like this remind me just how short life is, and how little time we have with each other. Things like this remind me to make everyday count, and to try my hardest not to sweat the small and ridiculous daily things that we often find ourselves fretting over.

Things like this remind me of what's really important.

Obviously, all eyes will be on the investigation while the grief continues to swell here. I'll try to keep things posted here as new developments come out.

How To Plan A Successful Surprise Party In Only 82 Easy Steps!

Okay, straight to the skinny: everything came off smashingly! That said, it came perilously close to being the Party That Wasn't, since our little Miss Thing came down with a 102 temp Saturday morning.
 
Jeannette started feeling punk on the drive over Friday night. She said her head and belly hurt, just like Alex had last weekend. Luckily, we made it to Indy without a vomitous incident and she went to bed still fairly perky. I could tell she was starting to get hot, though, and that was giving her the chills.
 
When she woke up on Saturday morning, she was all blotchy and hot to the touch, so we loaded her up on Tylenol and went off to our haircuts. I knew that if I was going to have to pull the plug, it was going to be a lunchtime at the latest. When Grandpa Bob called and said that Jeannette was feeling better and that her fever had gone way down, I made the judgement call to go forward, damn the torpedos!
 
We went about our afternoon's business in regular order. Unfortunately, Jeannette's fever had gone back up, so Grandpa Bob offered to keep her at home so that we could go to dinner.
 
So, we piled into our cars and drove down to the Lotus Garden. As we were pulling in the parking lot, I noticed Laura's grandfather's widow wobbling her way inside, so I took the slooooowwww route around to find a parking space. We all went inside and were escorted to the back room, where the restaurant had drawn the vertical blinds. That kind of tipped Laura off that something was going down, and when the veil was lifted and we walked in, there were roughly 70 people that yelled "Surprise!" and began to applaud. She just stood there for a couple of seconds in shock. It was kinda nice.
 
After that, we just went about the business of feeding 70 people. Fortunately, there were 3-4 waiters assigned to our party alone, so things went pretty smoothly, all things considered. I sprang for 1 eggroll and 1 crab rangoon for everybody. I thought they were going to bring them out before we got there, but they waited until we got there. Other than that little hitch, dinner went very well, and we were able to mix about and commingle with everybody. Everyone that said they were coming actually showed up. There were a few extras that ended up tagging along, but since I built in a buffer in the total, it turned out just fine.
 
Once dinner was done and people were getting their bills, I pulled Laura up front and clinked my water glass to get everyone's attention. I dispensed with the pleasantries, credits and cast of characters and moved on to the next event: her birthday present. My mom had wrapped all the trip paperwork inside of one box, so when she opened it up and began to read it, she kept looking over at me. "Just keep reading!" I told her. Finally, her eyes drifted far enough down to the money shot: the words Las Vegas! She stood there kind of stunned once she realized what I'd gotten her. :)
 
At that point, people started to file out to head over to Mark and Barbara's house for the "Jeannette half" of the party. We'd gotten a call from Grandpa Bob that Miss Thing's fever had disappeared and that she'd been turning handsprings in the front room, so we figured it was probably okay. Ultimately, we had about 40 people show up at the house, and much ice cream cake and yummy pies were consumed. That, and we played Rock Band until, oh, about midnight-thirty or so. :)
 
Needless to say, we were all pretty wiped out by the end. We slept in until about 10-11 am the next day, and then we got Jeannette all cleaned up so that she, Auntie Barbara and Mommy could go down for her annual birthday trek to the Build-A-Bear workshop. This year she decided to add Elizabeth the Zebra to her menagerie.
 
I took a nap while they were off playing with cotton batting. :)
 
From there, we piled back into the van and headed home. We got home around 6:30 pm last night and proceeding directly to Jeannette's birthday presents from us: a swimming dog toy, a Hannah Montana bed comforter set and... her shiny new bike! However, we found out pretty quickly that Daddy is a terrible approximater of height, as the Hannah Montana bike I'd picked out for her was waaay too big. Since I needed to do a little grocery shopping, I took the bike back in and traded it in for a Princess bike of a more appropriate size.
 
After that, the only thing left was to make up the birthday snacks for her to take to her class today, and I went a decidedly French route: small bag of sliced apples, some string cheese and some pretzel crackers!
 
We went to bed, and while the missus conked out pretty quickly, I was still wired and couldn't get to sleep until just past midnight.
 
I'm still draggin today. We need a vacation. :)
 

Excuse Me While I Blow The Dust Off This Place

Geez... hiring a cleaning service, John. You've really let this place go.

It's damned near criminal!

We're gonna have to get all Servicemaster on your butt, man. Get off yer duff and do something!

More soon...!

Here's a note I just sent to the far-fallen Today Show

To the Today Show’s Production and Editorial Staff,

 

I’ve been watching your coverage since President Obama took office, curious to see if your patented tried and true journalistic incuriousness and forgiving nature of all things political – as long as you had the word “Republican” in your job title - about that office that you displayed during the last eight years. I’m not surprised to see that your corporate governing board has gotten on board with the Republican playbook once again.

 

It’s almost comical, your virtually transparent fealty to the GOP and their corporate sponsors. Your show – nay, all of your network’s “news” shows – have become a running joke in our house. Anytime you have a story about President Obama or Democrats in general, you will inevitably give the first (and usually only) response to the discredited Republicans. Have you forgotten the public opinion tidal wave that has swept them out of office in two consecutive elections? Have you not realized that every tired sound bite they offer has been so discredited that they have become nothing more than fodder for the late-night comedians?

 

If you must know what set me off, finally, after all this ridiculous pandering you’ve provided to a shamed political party, it was this morning’s lead story. You make all these obvious sniping remarks about the President’s efforts to begin fixing what 30 years of Republican ideology has done to this country, and instead of actually having somebody from the administration to talk about their ideas, who do you pick?

 

William Kristol, newly-fired ex-columnist from the New York Times, neo-con extraordinaire and war cheerleader. William fucking Kristol.

 

So, that’s it. I’m done with you, and my family is done with you.  We will no longer watch any NBC news (or, in your case, newsertainment) programs until you demonstrate the ability to break free from your Republican sponsors and give the President and Democrats a fair shake.

 

We don’t expect you to be cheerleaders for them. No, not at all. We just expect you to do you fucking job and present the news fairly and accurately.

 

But that might be asking too much.

 

UPDATE: It looks like Eric Boehlert over at Media Matters agrees with me:

 

"Pulling a collective Rip Van Winkle, the White House press corps has awakened from its extended nap just in time to aggressively press the new Democratic administration, just as it dogged the last Democratic president during his first days in office back in the 1990s. Conveniently skipped over during the press corps' extended bout of shut-eye? The Bush years, of course.

 

Suddenly revved up and vowing to keep a hawk-like watch on the Obama administration ("I want to hold these guys accountable for what they say and do") and all of a sudden obsessed with trivia, while glomming onto nitpicking, gotcha-style critiques, Beltway reporters have tossed aside the blanket of calm that had descended on them during the previous administration, a blanket of calm that defined their Bush coverage."

UPDATE #2: Digby says it even better!

And a Nation - And a World - Heaves a Huge Sigh Of Relief

Good people, I missed my introduction!

But please... Please I pray you, hear it now, for I would lay rest the grace in my tongue and speak plainly. Days like these are far too rare to cheapen with heavy handed words, and so, I'm afraid without any ado whatsoever... Here he is, one of your own, the 44th President of the United States: Barack Obama!

Hunkering Down in the Deep Freeze, Day 2

Apparently, the local school officials thing that having a high of -4 degrees Fahrenheit is not condusive to the student's well-being. Hence, Day Two of Dad's Snow Day Adventure with the Monkeys.

Yesterday wasn't quite as bad, really. It was more just a swirl of powdery snow drifting over the roads - continuously - that caused them to call school off. Today, however, it is cold - even by the ol' Repressed's standards! As of the time I started writing this, it was -15, and the wind chills were hovering near -35 to -40-ish.

So, whereas yesterday I was able to get some prime Snow Monkey action shots like this (and please note the snowball in the upper middle left winging its way towards my head):

Or, this one of a very happy Ice Princess:

Or this one, the old favorite:

No, I predict that today will be a day spent entirely indoors, by the fireplace, wrapped in a blanket and watching some Disney channel.

The only downside is that with me having to stay home both days - Mrs. Repressed is getting certified in Six Sigma at work and can't miss any of the classtime being held only this week - is that I'm having to wait to hear whether or not my interview last week was successful. I think it went pretty well, honestly, but I'm probably the worst gauge of actuality when it comes to these kinds of things.

So, we'll see...!

Of All The Things To Have Mentioned In The News About Your Town

Our flatfoots go off and arrest Chuck Yeager, er, Sam Shepard!

The amazing thing is that they can seemingly catch a celebrity driving under the influence, but they somehow always seem to manage missing the 99.9% of all the other crappy drivers in this town! Seriously - both Mrs. Repressed and I are astounded just how incredibly bad the drivers in this podunk little burg seem to be with frightening regularity.

Anywho, when did Sam get so... old?