Thursday, August 31, 2006

I Have Made a Strategic Error

I’ve been working here at my current job for over five years and I’ve managed to keep myself out of trouble. I’m reasonably on time. I work hard. I do my thing and don’t complain. You know, model employee and all that.

I’m working *right now* as a matter of fact. Well, OK, technically, I’m doing this little writing thing right this very second, but I was working earlier and I’m waiting to the printer to do its thing. So working, yeah.

But my deep dark secret has come out. I kept it for over five whole years and now it’s all in the toilet.

I know PowerPoint.

And now they know that I know PowerPoint and now I’m gonna hafta do all the PowerPoint crap that comes through the studio for the rest of my natural life.

I think the only reasonable thing for me to do is update my resumé, start putting out feelers and get hell out of Dodge. Obviously, this situation is untenable.

And before anyone gets any ideas, we can’t use Keynote, which though it’s not perfect, is a zillion times better than PowerPoint; the client is Windows-only and they are actually doing The Presentation™. We are the graphics weenies putting it all together and trying our best to make a whole mess o’ slides look decent.

Now, where’s that loaded firearm I keep handy for occasions like this?

Wednesday, August 30, 2006

She Dresses Herself

Ellis picked out her own clothes this morning. And refused any assistance. Vehemently, I might add.

Too short dress, maroon socks, and pink shoes. Oh! And a darling, yet kicky bracelet to round out the ensemble.

She also demanded that her hair be on the side.

“With a twist, Mommy. With a twist.”

Tuesday, August 29, 2006

Destined for Greatness, Perhaps

I think maybe the pressure and stress of junior high might be too much for our oldest man-child :

Strange thing. I heard a tiny bell ring right before I took the picture.

And I forgot. Jonah left the house yesterday looking like this:

And this was today:

I have no words. I fear for the future. These are the people that will eventually be picking my nursing home.

Monday, August 28, 2006

First Day of School, 2006

The Deal Family Compound always gets aflutter when the new school year rolls around. Some kids (Jonah) are excited, some kids are grumpy (Lucas) and some kids seem to be a mixture of both (Carrie). But I think I speak for both adults at the Compound when I say that we’ll love having everyone on some semblance of a schedule. Ourselves included.

This isn’t the best shot of Carrie, but it’s the least blurry of all the shots I took of her before I made her tardy this morning:

And Lucas got his hair cut this weekend. In exchange, he demanded that we allow him to dye it. I’m not exactly sure what color he chose, but doesn’t he look *mahvelous*?

And I think Jonah made Reha “do” his hair “all spikey”

I betting that by the end of the day one of them will have a calendar up marking down the days until winter break.

Thursday, August 24, 2006

Big Fat Lies

I subscribe to Runner’s World magazine. It’s a very useful resource. It talks about training techniques, injury prevention, what to eat, how to run faster, stronger, etc. Exactly the sorts of things you’d expect a magazine on running to have in it.

Then there are the inspirational stories.

Now, don’t get me wrong; I love reading those stories. Stories about people who were sedentary getting off their duffs and going on to run a marathon. People with diseases overcoming them. Elite athletes excelling. All good stuff. And, because I’m a total softy, I get all verklempt and weepy reading those accounts.

But I swear, in every issue there is a runner quoted as saying that she loves running. And that she could not live without it. Because it clears her brain and lets her mind expand. She loves getting out into the world and getting in touch with nature. And she goes on and on about the lovely endorphins that course through her veins. “The endorphins, my heavenly stars in the sky, the ENDORPHINS! I’M IN LOVE WITH THE ENDORPHINS!” She speaks eloquently of the runner’s high and how exquisite running is. Seriously, it borders on pr0n on occasion. Or how running is very zen and a tranquility hovers over the rest of her life BECAUSE she is a runner. She was not a complete person until she discovered/began running. Really makes you want to lace up a pair of shoes and hit the open road. The glory of running all packaged on glossy paper and perfect bound and delivered to your mailbox.

Or some other crap like that.

Here’s my dirty little secret about running:

I don’t enjoy it. I do it. I do a lot of it of late. Last week I did 24 miles and this week I’ll do about 22 or so.

But I kind of hate it.

And the endorphins? The zen-like state of higher consciousness? The exercise pr0n?

Lies. All lies. Big, fat, and very sweaty and seriously stinky lies.

I’ve never had a runner’s high. I don’t know squat about a “second wind” where you feel like you might never stop running. Like you could run for days and nothing is holding you back. I don’t feel joy and frankly I don’t like being outside that much. I get sunburned so easily and heat stroke is a few steps closer for me than it is for the rest of the population, I think. And I’ve come to believe that endorphins are made up things, like elves or a balanced Federal budget. They don’t really exist and people talk about them like they do so they won’t feel stupid about killing themselves while running. It’s all pain and suffering and hell while I’m running and with every step I swear that I’m going to stop that very instant and start slouching on the couch again, TV remote in one hand, cold beverage beside me and my other hand scratching my nether regions until they have to pry my fat booty off the sofa with a crane. I really don’t enjoy the physical act of running.

Or any other physical activity for that matter, so don’t try and pawn off bicycling or some other sweaty crap on me, OK?

But here’s what I do enjoy about running. I love, flat out, LOVE the sensation of having run. I love the past tense of running. I keep a running journal of sorts and nothing gives me greater pleasure (even more enjoyment than scratching my nether regions) than thumbing through it and looking at all the past runs and the miles I’ve logged. That’s what keeps me going. And the races. Though I’m not at all competitive, I like the jittery feeling you get at the starting line and the sheer joy of the finish line. That’s very cool, indeed. I’ve been running “seriously” for about four years now and keeping pretty good track of my runs for the last year or so and I really dig looking back at the past history of pain. Much more so than looking forward to Saturday’s long run or Tuesday’s fartleks or intervals.

Now, I’m not saying that I really hate running. It’s way easier now that it used to be. I can run 5-6 miles without really thinking “this is gonna suck toad skins.” And that’s a nice feeling, I suppose. And my heart is in much better shape than it was a few years ago. And I’ll probably die later rather than sooner because I’m in better overall health than I used to be. And sometimes it’s not bad at all for those in between miles. Occasionally, there are short periods where I think, “Not too shabby.”

But I just need to point out that I think those folks who say they get some kind of basal pleasure from schlepping down the street with stinkiness oozing off themselves; they are big, fat LIARS. OK, they probably are not fat, because let’s be honest, it’s hard to be a fat hard core runner. That’s not a zen-like nirvana you see on their faces as you pass them in your car though, it’s agony and them counting the steps until they can stop the madness and sit back down on the couch.

Now, where’s my cold beverage? I did 8 miles just now and I want my damn cold beverage!

Proximus

 

Favorite Entries

If you are new around here, the following entries have been reasonably well received. You might want to peruse these.

• Partners
• Correspondence
• Help Wanted
• From the Office of Mis-directed Email
• A Word from the Small Person in the House
• RNT Product Review: Chocolate Mix Skittles Left Me Sterile!
• Jon’s Report Card circa… A Long Time Ago
• Dear Gratuitously Naked Conversationalist at the Gym:
• A Peek Inside the Writer’s Guild and Producers’ Negotiations
• We Regret the Error
• Letters from a Homeowner to His General Contractor
• What I Did There
• Hermaphrodite Administrative Assistants and Receptionists Need Not Apply
• Giving Me an IM Account Was Obviously a Huge Mistake
• Official Ransom Note Typography Vista vs. Mac OS X Shootout
• I Need a Real Hobby
• Beat Down
• Big Fat Lies
• True Love
• Now MY Ovaries Hurt
• Don’t Get Her Started
• Disturbing Trend
• Had to do it
• Mooshy stuff
• Ransom Note Typography End User License Agreement “EULA”
• Diva-licious!
• Just so we’re clear
• PETA may have a point

Holy Crap! Look at all this STUFF down here. It's awesome!

Really, I'm glad you made it down here. Almost no one ever comes down here. I'm like in a freaking dungeon down here. I get lonely. But not you. YOU made it all the way to the end of the page. For this I think I've a little crush on you. I don't know, is "love" to strong a word to use in this situation? Well, if it's not "love," then it's very strong "like." I'm totally in like with you for coming down here. You are awesome. Please love me back! I know, I know, I shouldn't be all needy, it's not attractive at all, but you don't know how it is to be stuck down here. Who scrolls all the way to the end of a page anymore these days? Anyway, thanks for shedding some light down here in the depths. I appreciate it. Shoot me an email and I'll send you a dollar, OK?

©2005-2010 Jon B. Deal All Rights Reserved. I'm not kidding around here, I know people who know other people who would be willing to beat you up or similarly infringe on your rights, should you happen to infringe on my rights.