Monday, September 26, 2005
Dying Wish Granted
If this one doesn't get to you, then you're colder than that leftover coffee I accidentally took a swig of this morning.
Sunday, September 25, 2005
No More Musing... If There Ever Was Any
That's right... I've dropped the "Musings of a". You see, upon reflection, I began to wonder if there ever truly were any "musings" on this blog. Oh, sure, there were plenty of questions, mostly of the rhetorical nature, and more than my fair share of hair-brained theories and ponderings. But did I ever really muse on a topic?
Perhaps that last paragraph could be considered my first and only "musing". But, moving on...
So, I've decided to stop living the lie and tell it like it is. I'm Cuppojoe and I've got a Caffeinated Mind. There. I've said it. No more pretense at musing, just good old random thoughts as they rise to the surface.
I feel 20lbs lighter already...
(P.S. Don't forget to update your Favorites... I am in your Favorites, right? Hello?)
Perhaps that last paragraph could be considered my first and only "musing". But, moving on...
So, I've decided to stop living the lie and tell it like it is. I'm Cuppojoe and I've got a Caffeinated Mind. There. I've said it. No more pretense at musing, just good old random thoughts as they rise to the surface.
I feel 20lbs lighter already...
(P.S. Don't forget to update your Favorites... I am in your Favorites, right? Hello?)
Monday, September 19, 2005
The Cat's Out of the Bag... Again
I want to begin by saying that the following post was written at the request of my girlfriend. She's got something to say but, not being a blogger herself, no outlet for getting it said. Well, in truth, she has a lot of things to say, and a number of tried and true outlets for getting them said, but I'm talking about getting it said to a broader audience... Like you folks.
Apparently, I've led her to believe I have this clarion voice that reaches the masses. I guess I've somehow given her the impression that there are hoards of people who rush to my blog everyday, just to read whatever clever, witty, amusing, or sarcastic thing popped into my head the night before.
And we'll just keep letting her believe those things, won't we?
Anyway, here's the thing: It would seem that my girlfriend (who will forever afterward be referred to as "Mrs. Joe" because typing "my girlfriend" over and over again is becoming tiresome and lame) is having a hard time buying me gifts. Not that she has any difficulty with the actual shopping part... No way. She's got that down to a science. In fact, I suspect that there are things girls are taught in Jr. High Home Ec that us guys totally miss while we're busy making ashtrays and paperweights in Shop class (because those are skills that no man can go through life without...).
It seems that the problem lies not in the spending of the money on the merchandise, but in keeping the purchased merchandise a secret from Yours Truly. And before anyone gets on my case for being a snoop, I'd like to point out that I do not, under any circumstances, going looking for my presents. Sure, when I was a kid I used to like finding out what I was getting way ahead of time, but I've changed in my old age. Now, I enjoy the anticipation, the element of surprise. Premature Gift Revelation (PGR to the lay-person) just blows the whole thing.
Still, I don't think Mrs. Joe and I have celebrated a single special occasion during the course of our 2+ year relationship without me discovering what at least one of my gifts was before the day of giving. Given an average of 4 gift-receiving days a year (birthday, Christmas, anniversary, and Father's Day), that puts me somewhere around 10 for 10 so far. Not bad odds, if you're a betting man. But, as amusing as this might be for me or you, I'm sensing that this trend is starting to annoy her. By "sensing" I mean I'm being told, loud and clear, and by "starting to" I mean "has been for a long time but now she's finally saying something about it".
How do I do it, you might ask? Good question! At first, it was simply that she didn't know me well enough. You know, she wanted to get "just the right thing" for me, but was worried her interpretation of that would differ from mine. So, she'd either ask too many questions about a particular item, or genre of items, and tip me off, or just come right out and ask me to help her pick something out. See? Not my fault.
Then it changed to her knowing me too well. She'd buy something for me, knowing that it was exactly what I'd want, then I'd be in the same store with her a few days later and go to buy the exact same thing for myself! Of course, she could have just let me buy it and then return her purchase when I wasn't around, but I think she really, really wanted to be the one who figured out the perfect gift first, so she couldn't help but tell me. Again, not my fault.
Lately, though, things have gone from bad to worse. Just last week, I actually found out about 2 Christmas presents she had bought for me. Can you believe it? Who the heck buys Christmas presents in September? That's what the final week of sales before Christmas Eve are for! Anyway, I think this latest infraction was the straw that broke the camel's back, as they say. She's absolutely had it with me and my "dumb luck", but it's just so comical to me, especially considering the eloquent mixture of bad planning on her part and good intentions on mine that led to the most recent PGR incident.
First, there was that really cold morning last week... I take the bus to work, but I noticed her windshield was covered in frost, so I decided to be a good boyfriend and scrape it off for her before I left. Now, she normally keeps the scraper in the back hatch, so I went rummaging around in there. Little did I know there was a gift hidden under the emergency blanket... A gift that will remain nameless because it can still go to someone else in the family, and there's no sense having that person experience PGR as a result of my blog.
Then, not more than a day later, after showering up before work, instead of leaving my towel in a heap on the bathroom floor, I actually put it in the laundry hamper... right on top of the shirts she had hidden in there. Seriously. Now, either she didn't think these hiding places through very well, or she thinks I'm an inconsiderate slob who would never go near those places without being expressly told to do so. For my own sense of pride, I'm going to have to go with the former.
Okay, so now that the grievance has been aired to an impartial court of our peers (more or less), she wants to know what she should do about this situation. I've already suggested what I think are better hiding places, but I don't think she trusts me anymore... not about this anyway. So, go ahead, let her know what you think, and I'll try not to read any of your comments...
(wink, wink, nudge, nudge)
Apparently, I've led her to believe I have this clarion voice that reaches the masses. I guess I've somehow given her the impression that there are hoards of people who rush to my blog everyday, just to read whatever clever, witty, amusing, or sarcastic thing popped into my head the night before.
And we'll just keep letting her believe those things, won't we?
Anyway, here's the thing: It would seem that my girlfriend (who will forever afterward be referred to as "Mrs. Joe" because typing "my girlfriend" over and over again is becoming tiresome and lame) is having a hard time buying me gifts. Not that she has any difficulty with the actual shopping part... No way. She's got that down to a science. In fact, I suspect that there are things girls are taught in Jr. High Home Ec that us guys totally miss while we're busy making ashtrays and paperweights in Shop class (because those are skills that no man can go through life without...).
It seems that the problem lies not in the spending of the money on the merchandise, but in keeping the purchased merchandise a secret from Yours Truly. And before anyone gets on my case for being a snoop, I'd like to point out that I do not, under any circumstances, going looking for my presents. Sure, when I was a kid I used to like finding out what I was getting way ahead of time, but I've changed in my old age. Now, I enjoy the anticipation, the element of surprise. Premature Gift Revelation (PGR to the lay-person) just blows the whole thing.Still, I don't think Mrs. Joe and I have celebrated a single special occasion during the course of our 2+ year relationship without me discovering what at least one of my gifts was before the day of giving. Given an average of 4 gift-receiving days a year (birthday, Christmas, anniversary, and Father's Day), that puts me somewhere around 10 for 10 so far. Not bad odds, if you're a betting man. But, as amusing as this might be for me or you, I'm sensing that this trend is starting to annoy her. By "sensing" I mean I'm being told, loud and clear, and by "starting to" I mean "has been for a long time but now she's finally saying something about it".
How do I do it, you might ask? Good question! At first, it was simply that she didn't know me well enough. You know, she wanted to get "just the right thing" for me, but was worried her interpretation of that would differ from mine. So, she'd either ask too many questions about a particular item, or genre of items, and tip me off, or just come right out and ask me to help her pick something out. See? Not my fault.
Then it changed to her knowing me too well. She'd buy something for me, knowing that it was exactly what I'd want, then I'd be in the same store with her a few days later and go to buy the exact same thing for myself! Of course, she could have just let me buy it and then return her purchase when I wasn't around, but I think she really, really wanted to be the one who figured out the perfect gift first, so she couldn't help but tell me. Again, not my fault.
Lately, though, things have gone from bad to worse. Just last week, I actually found out about 2 Christmas presents she had bought for me. Can you believe it? Who the heck buys Christmas presents in September? That's what the final week of sales before Christmas Eve are for! Anyway, I think this latest infraction was the straw that broke the camel's back, as they say. She's absolutely had it with me and my "dumb luck", but it's just so comical to me, especially considering the eloquent mixture of bad planning on her part and good intentions on mine that led to the most recent PGR incident.
First, there was that really cold morning last week... I take the bus to work, but I noticed her windshield was covered in frost, so I decided to be a good boyfriend and scrape it off for her before I left. Now, she normally keeps the scraper in the back hatch, so I went rummaging around in there. Little did I know there was a gift hidden under the emergency blanket... A gift that will remain nameless because it can still go to someone else in the family, and there's no sense having that person experience PGR as a result of my blog.
Then, not more than a day later, after showering up before work, instead of leaving my towel in a heap on the bathroom floor, I actually put it in the laundry hamper... right on top of the shirts she had hidden in there. Seriously. Now, either she didn't think these hiding places through very well, or she thinks I'm an inconsiderate slob who would never go near those places without being expressly told to do so. For my own sense of pride, I'm going to have to go with the former.
Okay, so now that the grievance has been aired to an impartial court of our peers (more or less), she wants to know what she should do about this situation. I've already suggested what I think are better hiding places, but I don't think she trusts me anymore... not about this anyway. So, go ahead, let her know what you think, and I'll try not to read any of your comments...
(wink, wink, nudge, nudge)
Monday, September 12, 2005
It's Uncle Cuppojoe To You, Kid...
That's right... There's a new leaf on the old Family Tree. Specifically, another nephew for Yours Truly. You see, my kid sister has gone and had a kid of her own. Okay, at 22, I can hardly call her a "kid" anymore, but, come on! I can still remember giving her her bottle and changing her diaper when Mom got too busy or too tired!
(In order to avoid almost certain insomnia, I will no longer dwell on the former action in that sentence... And neither will you.)
So, this past weekend, the girlfriend and I packed up my daughter and went on down to visit the new little guy. Had to see what he thought of his first three days, you know? Not to mention introducing him to the cousin who will be setting him up with her friends and sneaking him into bars 17 years from now.
A pleasant drive, it was... What with the pitch-black of the Alberta countryside, the driving rain, the worn windshield wipers, and the oncoming traffic that just couldn't be bothered to dim their high-beams. I couldn't just wait and do the 2-hour trip in the morning, could I? No way! Had to get there as soon as possible. But apparently not soon enough to meet up with the rest of the family before they went to bed...
Did you know that there aren't any restaurants open past 11 o'clock in certain small Alberta cities? We didn't. And did you know that large hotel chains in said cities prefer to give their night managers the weekends off in favor of staffing the front desk with trainees unable to perform a check-in for guests in under 45 minutes? Again, neither did we. On the plus side, it only took them 15 minutes to check us out the next morning. Pretty good for newbies, if you ignore the fact that we're still waiting for them to process our Air Miles...
What? Me, bitter? No...
The weekend brightened up as soon as we saw the new addition to the family, though. Cute little guy, really. Loads of black hair and (from what I was told about a dozen times) a really clear complexion. They didn't think my sister was giving birth to a teenager, did they? And he didn't have much to say but, what with wise-cracking clowns like my brother in the family, I think he was probably just playing it safe. Oh! And the grandparents were out in full force, oohing and ahhing over the baby, pointing out all the features that made him "just like his Mom" or "Daddy's little man"...
There should be a longer unit on genetics in High School biology...
One of the highlights had to be when the new Dad was asked what it was like to be in the delivery room when his son was born... All he could say was, "I'm glad I'm not a woman!"
Amen to that... And I'm sure my sister's glad you're not, too!
Anyway, now that the weekend is over and I'm back in town, all I have to do is go through the 300 or so pictures I took of each and every member of the family holding the baby, and walking with the baby, and feeding the baby, and burping the baby, and...
"What's that? Grandpa is holding him in his left arm now? Quick! Throw me my camera!"
(In order to avoid almost certain insomnia, I will no longer dwell on the former action in that sentence... And neither will you.)
So, this past weekend, the girlfriend and I packed up my daughter and went on down to visit the new little guy. Had to see what he thought of his first three days, you know? Not to mention introducing him to the cousin who will be setting him up with her friends and sneaking him into bars 17 years from now.
A pleasant drive, it was... What with the pitch-black of the Alberta countryside, the driving rain, the worn windshield wipers, and the oncoming traffic that just couldn't be bothered to dim their high-beams. I couldn't just wait and do the 2-hour trip in the morning, could I? No way! Had to get there as soon as possible. But apparently not soon enough to meet up with the rest of the family before they went to bed...
Did you know that there aren't any restaurants open past 11 o'clock in certain small Alberta cities? We didn't. And did you know that large hotel chains in said cities prefer to give their night managers the weekends off in favor of staffing the front desk with trainees unable to perform a check-in for guests in under 45 minutes? Again, neither did we. On the plus side, it only took them 15 minutes to check us out the next morning. Pretty good for newbies, if you ignore the fact that we're still waiting for them to process our Air Miles...
What? Me, bitter? No...
The weekend brightened up as soon as we saw the new addition to the family, though. Cute little guy, really. Loads of black hair and (from what I was told about a dozen times) a really clear complexion. They didn't think my sister was giving birth to a teenager, did they? And he didn't have much to say but, what with wise-cracking clowns like my brother in the family, I think he was probably just playing it safe. Oh! And the grandparents were out in full force, oohing and ahhing over the baby, pointing out all the features that made him "just like his Mom" or "Daddy's little man"...
There should be a longer unit on genetics in High School biology...
One of the highlights had to be when the new Dad was asked what it was like to be in the delivery room when his son was born... All he could say was, "I'm glad I'm not a woman!"
Amen to that... And I'm sure my sister's glad you're not, too!
Anyway, now that the weekend is over and I'm back in town, all I have to do is go through the 300 or so pictures I took of each and every member of the family holding the baby, and walking with the baby, and feeding the baby, and burping the baby, and...
"What's that? Grandpa is holding him in his left arm now? Quick! Throw me my camera!"
Friday, September 2, 2005
Photo of the Week: Liquid Color
Monday, August 22, 2005
Brangelina Fever
Oooo! Get ready to wet yourself with uncontainable excitement... Brad and Angelina have officially arrived in Calgary!Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god!
It's true, folks... Hollywood's most talked about couple is here, getting ready to shoot Pitt's latest movie, "The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford". Well, only Brad is here for the movie... Angelina's motives for coming along are, as yet, unstated, but I'm sure you can jump to the same conclusions everyone else has.
To be honest with you, I can't really see what the big deal is. Calgary already has a well-established relationship with Tinseltown, and we've definitely seen our fair share of celebrities over the years. My recollection goes as far back as Stephen J. Cannell's "Stingray" and the lack-luster "Superman 3" in the mid 80's, but there have been many more in the years since: "The Edge" (with Alec Baldwin and Anthony Hopkins), "Unforgiven" (with Clint Eastwood), and "Legends of the Fall" (starring none other than Brad Pitt himself) to name a few. Throw in a handful of TV series like "Lonesome Dove", "North of 60", "Viper", and "Honey I Shrunk the Kids" and you can see why I'm not exactly star-struck by this latest visit.
Still, it would seem that this attitude puts me in the minority these days. The local media has been priming the public for this Visit from the Stars for a little while now. One newspaper has gone so far as to offer $350,000 to the first person who can provide a photograph of Brad and Angelina kissing! Can you believe that? It’s ridiculous! We’re actually being encouraged to turn ourselves into the same paparazzi that actors and actresses are so glad to get away from by coming here... Talk about shooting yourself in the foot!
Even the Calgary Herald, our supposedly non-tabloid newspaper, seems to have lost it in light of the recent Brangelina Invasion... This morning's front page shows "First Photos of Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie in Calgary" with the accompanying article proclaiming, "Brad Pitt is officially one of us."
What?!?
Somehow, we are led to believe that, since he has shown a desire to eat and/or drink outside of his hotel room, Mr. Pitt now considers himself a Calgarian. These are the things, after all, that set us apart from the rest of the savages in this world... Right? Seriously, until I see Brad suiting up to practice with the Flames or pushing a shopping cart through Wal-Mart, I don’t think I'll be considering him "one of us".
I'm sure I could go on with this rant, but what's the point? Besides, I have to go make sure the memory card on my camera is empty... Rational or not, $350,000 buys a lot of coffee!
Sunday, August 21, 2005
"Tide To Go" Weekend Update
Just in case my glowing review wasn't enough to convince you, here's a few more things that Tide To Go has been proven effective on:
-ketchup on white blouse
-chocolate ice cream on white pants
-root beer ice cream on beige cargo pants
That last one was mine.
You should have seen the looks we got as we sat out front of the My Favorite Ice Cream Shoppe, methodically erasing the drippings that fell from our cones. We've practically become walking advertisements!
I should find out who the Ad Agency for this little pen is...
-ketchup on white blouse
-chocolate ice cream on white pants
-root beer ice cream on beige cargo pants
That last one was mine.
You should have seen the looks we got as we sat out front of the My Favorite Ice Cream Shoppe, methodically erasing the drippings that fell from our cones. We've practically become walking advertisements!
I should find out who the Ad Agency for this little pen is...
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