Articulated Vulgarities

My Dad

My Dad was many things.

He was funny.  He was generous.  He was loving, but in his own way.  It wasn't always obvious, but you could feel it.  His own father, my Grandpa, was the same way - stern, but affectionate under the surface.  My Dad loved his sons unconditionally.  No matter how bad things got, no matter what happened between him and my mother, no matter how mad we were at him, or how much trouble we got ourselves into, I know that the one constant in his life was his love for my brother and I.

My Dad was many things, but he was not perfect.  He was human and was subject to all the faults inherent in our species.  I will not ignore these faults because they are all a part of who my Dad was.  He was also a man who was quick-witted and readily cracked jokes to lighten even the worst situations.  He was a man who, like me, had no affinity for school, but stored almost encyclopedic knowledge about the things he loved - including music, which ranged from Motown to country to 50s and 60s "Oldies". 

He was an avid sports fan.  Hockey Night in Canada was practically a religious experience for him.  At various points in his life he played hockey, basketball, softball, and soccer, and even into his 50s he would challenge my brother to hoops contests in any backyard that had a rim.  

For every bad memory, there are dozens of good ones.  Watching them play basketball together countless times was always entertaining, and whenever my Dad would win he would point to the Notre Dame t-shirt he always wore, as if it somehow granted him abilities beyond those of my brother and was responsible for his victory. 

There are memories of family vacations to Higgins Lake where he calmly pumped gas into the family car despite the giant "NO SELF SERVICE" sign in the window of the little podunk gas station.  This act earned him the nickname Clark Griswold (from the National Lampoons Vacation series of films, which were some of his favorites).  I definitely inherited my sense of direction (or lack of) from him, as he would frequently take us on "shortcuts" that led nowhere, although somehow he always found the right way eventually. 

For most of my life, he had worked in plumbing supply.  Though he was never a tradesman of any kind, he could fix or build just about anything you'd ask him to.  He built the bar in our basement, the deck on the back of our house and my Grandmother's, installed new showers into several houses, and fixed up the basement in the home where he lived with his second wife nicer than some peoples' upper floors.  He used to come home from work and tell us stories about licensed plumbers asking for silly things, and he'd burst into hysterical laughing.  We had no idea what he meant or why it was so funny, of course, but it amused him that these so-called experts were asking for equipment that was either inappropriate for the job, or didn't exist at all.

It's all those little things that I'll miss the most - the plumbing jokes I don't get, the voices he'd give to all his (and our) pets, the way he could make his pet beagle howl at will by repeating certain phrases ("Riley go ni-night!" in particular), the distinctive way he'd knock on the door to announce that he'd dropped by for a visit, the way he'd imitate his mom's voice, going to minor league hockey games together, his undiscerning taste in movies (he liked and raved practically every movie he saw, and he saw a great many movies), playing the piano hook from Chicago's "Color My World" on a nearly endless loop on the family piano or the way he'd break into song at a moment's notice. 

There are simply too many things to encapsulate.  How do you describe a life; its ups and downs, happy and sad moments, laughs and arguments?  I have so many memories worth sharing, and some I'll keep just between me and my Dad. 

My only regret is that I did not talk to him on Thanksgiving.  I don't know why.  My brother called him, but I never thought to ask for the phone or to call myself.  I guess I should take solace in the fact that the last words they exchanged were words of affection.  You can't ask for a better thing to say than "I love you," but I wish I had said it to him myself instead of my brother passing along a message.  It's something I will regret for the rest of my life, and I hope it brings into focus why my friends are often on the receiving end of my sentimentality.  You never expect the last time you speak to someone to actually BE the last time, so I try to make every time count for something. 

It's unfortunate that so many of my friends have experience in this sort of thing, but I couldn't ask for a better support system.  Over the last three days, I've relied heavily on my friends and they've been there every step of the way.  Words can't express my gratitude or my love. 

I will miss my Dad.  It's still hard to believe that he's gone.  The next time something breaks around the house, he won't be a phone call away.  I'll never hear that distinctive knock on our back door again.  We will no longer celebrate our birthday together, for I was born on the night of my Dad's 30th birthday celebration.  I'm trying to take comfort in the belief that he is with his parents - and my wonderful Grandparents - but it's not really making it any easier.  I know it sounds selfish in light of that belief, but I wish he were still here.  

I know it's too late now, but I wanted to say I love you, Dad.

The Modern Warfare 2 Controversy

Darkness.  You hear the other occupants shuffling around.  Guns cock.  You open your eyes and Makarov turns to his comrades and reminds them, "Remember, no Russian."

The elevator doors open and you step out into the lobby of a picturesque Moscow airport.  Dozens of people patiently wait in line to check their baggage at the security terminal.  In the distance you can see folks perusing gift shops, drinking coffee, and checking their laptops. 

Makarov gives the signal and in an instant gunfire rings out and dozens of bodies fall into a heap, one on top of the other.  Screaming erupts through the concourse as innocent civilians attempt to flee for their safety, but there are five men with automatic weapons and few places to hide.

The men slowly and silently stalk the lobby, gunning down everyone in sight.  Makarov points to the stores, fast food chains, and coffee shops and one of his henchmen does his bidding, opening fire on the hapless people inside.  Courageous people try to pull the wounded to safety and are shot in the act before the injured are executed once and for all.  You stand there, slowly walking behind these men, watching the cold, calculated horror of it all.

Whether you choose to fire is up to you.

This is the scene from Infinity Ward's sequel to the smash hit Call of Duty: Modern Warfare.  In a single day of release it has already become the fastest selling video game in the history of the medium, moving 4.7 million copies in the United States and the U.K. alone.  Released on the PlayStation 3 and Xbox 360, many predict Modern Warfare 2 will go on to become the most successful video game of all time, but it's not the sales that have people talking - it's the airport scene.

Taken out of context, the scene sounds like it promotes terrorism - placing you in the shoes of a terrorist as you slaughter innocent, unarmed civilians.  In reality, you play as an undercover CIA operative who has infiltrated the terrorist's ranks and as your commander tells you, "you may lose a piece of yourself." 

The million dollar question is whether this type of scene belongs in a product meant as entertainment.  Opinions are fairly well split, with some - gamer and non-gamer alike - seeing it as a cheap and obvious attempt to generate buzz about the game with a controversial level. 

Others feel that video games are an artform, and this is no different than films such as Die Hard 2 or, on an even smaller scale, Air Force One, that show terrorists brutally murder innocents and the viewers barely blink an eye. 

Whichever side of the argument you fall on, the interactive nature of video games has led the major news organizations to pick up on it and weigh in.  Oh, and the Friendly Friends at Fox & Friends had something to say about it as well.

Newsmedia fearmongering is nothing new, and this controversy is no different.  They'll suggest that a new video game is causing quite a stir and tell you whether your children should be allowed to play it.  A reasonable person knows that the answer is, of course, no.  Your children should not be allowed to play it because the implication is that your children are governed by you, a responsible parent.  If your child is over the age of 17, the appropriate age to purchase a game with a big black M for Mature slapped on its front cover and content descriptors on the back that state "Blood", "Drug References", "Intense Violence", and "Language," then the choice isn't necessarily in your hands - though if they're living under your roof, I would hope you are still the one making the rules. 

Of course, that's not what Fox's Steve Doocy says.  No, Steve believes that sensationalism is the way to go and our nation is doomed to a future of homegrown terrorism, and all on account of this video game.  What follows is a quote from his "fair and balanced" panel discussion with Jim Steyer of Common Sense Media and Jon Christensen of /gamer:
"You bring a game into a house, nothing to stop an eight-year-old kid from becoming a terrorist and shooting people."

Yes.  Nothing.

There is nothing to stop him.  Not the parental controls built into the video game system they use to play the game.  Not the removable power cord or controller.  Not the ability to eject the disc in the tray.  Do you hear that, parents?  That is the sound of your eight-year-old insurgents rising against and overpowering you.  You are powerless to stop them, according to Steve Doocy. 

Assuming for a minute that Steve refers to "becoming a terrorist" in a virtual sense, and not that he is so naive or stupid (or both) to believe that a video game is somehow analogous to firing an actual firearm and capable of instantaneous brainwashing, the fact remains that there is one force on Earth even more powerful than the dreaded eight-year-old with a game console.  That force is called Responsible Parenting.

I know this is a crazy concept.  If only we had the freedom to govern our own households and enforce sometimes unpopular rules within the boundaries of our own house.  If only Activision, the publishers of Modern Warfare 2, and Infinity Ward, the game's developers, would grant us those freedoms over our own children!  Oh, wait... We can do that, and we don't need anyone's permission.

But how can you act when Steve Doocy says there is "nothing to stop them"?  The game must emit some sort of paralyzation ray that only works on parental figures who must stand idly by and watch as their children are trained to become terrorists.  Or maybe you could walk up to the system and shut the Goddamn thing off.  Yeah, you should probably just try that before you throw in the towel.

The sad fact is that Steve Doocy is as clueless as the majority of parents when it comes to video games and technology.  They're still stuck in the days of the original Nintendo when gaming was a hobby dominated by young children and social outcasts.  The notion that modern games are for children is as ridiculous and outdated as the idea that women should stay in the kitchen and not work or segregated bathrooms, drinking fountains, and schools are a good idea.  It has no relevance to our society as it exists today, but there is still a sect of idiots who believe it.  

Eight-year-old children are not lining up for the midnight sale of Call of Duty: Modern Warfare 2.  Eight-year-old children aren't sitting outside in the freezing cold of winter with $600, ready to purchase a PlayStation 3 on launch day.  Games, by and large, are purchased 20 and 30-sometihng-year-olds with jobs that give them disposable income - like myself.  If you're a parent who willingly buys a game titled "Modern Warfare" for your eight-year-old, then what the hell kind of parent are you in the first place and why has someone not reported you to Social Services?  What about that title would make you think it's age-appropriate for your young one?

It's true that older siblings may have access to the game, and this is precisely where responsible parenting comes into play.  Any parent knows that young children require constant supervision just so they don't hurt themselves or get into something they shouldn't have.  Why does this rule not extend to video game consoles?  Why is it the responsibility of the publishers and the developers to babysit your children?  When did mass censorship become such a widely accepted practice, and who decided that we should all be subject to it so as not to poison the minds of the children?  I'm 30 years old; are you telling me Infinity Ward shouldn't make mature games for adults because there's a chance a child could see or play it?  Isn't that your duty as a parent to monitor what your children are doing?  Would you let them stick a fork in an electrical socket and then blame the silverware manufacturer for making conductive utensils?  

Contrary to Steve Doocy's belief, you are not unable to prevent your children from becoming terrorists.  The problem is that everyone wants someone else to do their job for them.  On that note I'd like to introduce you to your new best friend: Parental Controls!  Every major video game console has them nowadays.  Take time to familiarize yourself with them, parents.  It's OK, they don't bite.  Parental controls are easy as pie to work.  You set a password and tell the system to block any games over a certain age rating, which is handily displayed on the game's packaging.  If that password is not entered, it does your job for you and tells your child that he or she will not be playing that game.  Crisis averted!  Another mind saved!

I'm not going to touch on whether I feel the airport sequence should be playable or non-playable, or whether it belongs in the game in the first place.  That's a whole 'nother can of worms.  However, the argument that video games are somehow warping our children into becoming terrorists and there's nothing you can do about it is so flat out ridiculous - even for Fox News - it's practically science fiction.

I realize that trying to find sensible reporting and reason in a Fox News report is about as fruitful as searching for a Pepsi machine in the middle of the desert, but there is a reason there are age ratings on the box.  There's a reason parental controls are built into consoles.  Now if only someone could give me a reason to watch Fox News, since we're talking about warping minds and indoctrinating impressionable youth...

Catching up

OK, so it's been more than a month since I last posted again.  In my defense, plenty has been going on - and I have been updating Media Junkie sporadically.  That's gotta count for something, right?

Don't worry, blogosphere, I haven't forgotten about you.  My boring, mundane updates will return with more frequency soon enough, and then you'll be wishing I stopped posting again.  "Jesus, he played video games AGAIN this weekend?  Doesn't this guy do ANYTHING else?"

The biggest (and best) news is that we're moved back into our new/old home.  It's nearly impossible to tell there was ever a fire here, and a multitude of delivery men can attest to this after they reacted with shock upon being told.  There is still plenty to be done - we need to hang curtains, hook up our dryer (both of which will be done today), decorate a little more (all the walls are still barren), and I'll need at least 2 more CD/DVD towers so I can begin organizing my media - but it truly is our home and it's great to be back.  I'll post pictures.  Eventually.

I did get the first of several DVD towers the other day and I began the arduous task of cleaning off all my games that survived the fire.  This has led me to believe that Clorox Wipes are the greatest invention in human history.  Better than electricity, better than the wheel, and definitely, most certainly better than fire.  Those things can clean anything!  I may just stop showering.  Every morning when I wake up, I'll just wipe myself down and come into work smelling fresh - or like lemon, orange, or lavender, depending on which package I go with.  Let's see ordinary soap do that! 

Anyhoo, most of the cases were actually fairly well off.  Other than being covered in soot on the tops and spines, they were in good shape.  The artwork is waterlogged to varying degrees of severity - some look kinda trashed, some are just kinda wavy, and some are practically pristine - but slightly ugly cases is a hell of a lot better than having to rebuy some 300+ video games.  (Yes, I do own that many legit, store-bought video games.)  I will need to replace my PlayStation 1 CD jewel cases, however.  All the games that were on the top shelf of my former rack got the most damage, and the majority of my PSX cases are hopelessly melted.  Unbelievably enough, the discs inside are just fine; the cases just took the brunt of all the damage. 

My brother is also in the process of replacing all of his gear.  He chose to wait until we moved back before replacing his stereo equipment and home entertainment thingamajigs.  He also made his first leap into the wonderful world of high definition television with a beautiful 52" Toshia Regza 120Hz LCD TV.  I have a Sony 46" 60Hz LCD TV.  There is something dreadfully wrong with this picture.  He doesn't even know what 120Hz MEANS!  I tried to convince him to take my TV, which I paid the exact same price he did for his superior set, but he wasn't having any of it.  Seems he knows just enough about HDTV not to be swindled by me.  Curses!  Foiled again!

Last night I spent the evening at the Fillmore (better known as The State Theater to us Detroiters) to see comedian Daniel Tosh and his brand of deliciously offensive humor.  Tosh is one of those comics where nothing is off-limits.  He is not for the easily offended, and that's why I like him.  He seems to be able to find a way to make anything funny.  Domestic violence, rape, stereotypes, Michael Jackson (although, to be fair, he was a pedophile and he deserves it)... One of the better examples was the tragic story of a boy who was killed on a trip to the amusement park with his church youth group.  You may remember this story in the news: the boy had lost his hat on the rollercoaster, so he went into the fenced off, restricted area to retrieve it and was decapitated when the rollercoaster passed overhead.  It wasn't the coaster itself that got him, but a woman's leg, which was shattered in multiple places, forcing her to wear a cast.  Tosh pointed out that this woman would have the best "how'd you break your leg?" story ever, and we all laughed.  Maybe that makes us all horrible people, but let's face it: I wasn't getting into Heaven anyway. 

There's only one week until Halloween - the night when freeloaders knock on my door with their hands out, expecting delicious candy.  Don't they know there's a recession going on?  If I'm buying candy, the only stomach it is going to end up in is mine.  Plus, I'm fat and we fatties are not easily persuaded to give up our sweets.  You're going to have to do a lot better than a costume, I can promise you that.  Maybe if you offer to exchange another, more desirable candy for what I possess...

The strange thing about Halloween is that I haven't gone out since I was about 15, yet I still get excited for it when it rolls around every year.  That's when Doom came out, and that's when I decided I'd rather stay inside and shoot demons with a bag of $4.00 bite-size Butterfingers than walk around in the cold, sweating under a mask, hefting a bag of free candy.  There's just something about the atmosphere of the season.  I still find myself firing up the original Doom or its sequel every October 31st and playing for an hour or so, just out of some weird, nerdy tradition. 

We haven't given out candy in years, not that there are many kids to give out candy to in my neighborhood anymore, but somehow we still get kids knocking on our door, ringing our bell, and shouting out "trick or treat!"  Dude, the porchlight is off!  That is the universal sign for GO AWAY on Halloween.  DO NOT WANT.  We handle them the same way we handle solicitors: We just ignore it until they go away.  Even if they can see us walking around in the house, we just pretend we didn't hear them and they'll leave eventually.

Truth be told, I actually haven't had much time to play video games or watch movies.  It's amazing how many things you need in a (for all intents and purposes) new home.  For example: The first week we moved in, I went grocery shopping.  This was about three weeks ago and I still have two full meals to make, so I spent quite a bit of money to fill the cupboards and fridge with food.  I also bought a frozen apple pie, just as a sort of celebratory treat.  I was getting all set to make it, pre-heated the oven, and that's when I realized I had no way of getting it OUT of there once it had been cooked because we lacked an oven mit or hot pads.  DAMMIT! 

We've made a dozen trips to Bed, Bath, & Beyond, using loads of those expired 20% off coupons (how awesome is it that they take those no matter how old they are, by the way?), and we still keep discovering things we need.  Half of this stuff you just never realize you need until you reach for it and it's not there.  

Things are finally slowing down a bit though, so I'll soon be able to return to my passtime of sitting on my lazy behind with a controller in my hands, playing games I'll probably never finish.  I recently purchased EA's NHL 10 for my Xbox 360, and I can truly say it's the best hockey video game ever made.  I am not a fan of EA as a company, but they really nailed it with NHL 10.  It's so good and so realistic that it's even fun to lose.  Gone are the days of EA's infamous rubber band AI where you could be up by 10 goals and the computer would suddenly go on a hot streak and catch up in the span of 5 minutes.  Gone are the days where you could even SCORE 10 goals, at least on higher difficulty settings.  No, you have to work for each and every goal, and that's what makes it so rewarding.  I react the same way to scoring a goal in the game as I would if I were at the rink and my team scored - I stand up, shout, and clap.  You'll score more goals with great passing, cycling the puck through the zone, and setting up great shots than fancy deke moves (though you can still beat the goalie, and the defense, individually with skill players - just as in real life).  More importantly, when you lose, chances are it's your own fault for playing sloppy defense, not because the computer cheated you out of a victory.  It's much easier to swallow a loss when you know it's because you just didn't play well enough, and since the games are usually close, even the losses tend to be exciting to the finish.

So that's the bulk of the happenings around these parts.  I really can't tell you how good it feels to be back home.  The feeling is just indescribable as I look around the house that is so much nicer than it was before, but still retains that basic layout I'm so familiar with.  Now it is time to remove my ass from this chair so I can plant it in another one and play another hockey game.  Thanks so much to all my friends for all their support over the past 7 months! 

(Wow, that ending was a little disjointed, huh?)

The final stages

I'm trying to get back into the blogging groove.  Luckily, with the house nearing completion and the excitement reaching critical mass, that is becoming increasingly easier because I feel I should share the progress with my friends.

We stopped in yesterday and the painting is pretty much done.  There's some small touch up work to do yet, but the major portion is complete.  Vent covers, electrical sockets, and light switches have been installed.  All that remains are the sinks, the basement toilet, a few ceiling fans, cabinet and closet handles, and finishing the bar. 

Unfortunately, Señor Blurry (aka the iPhone camera) doesn't do the best job of capturing the different shades of the rooms, but you'll get the idea.  Here's a shot of my room, leading into the hallway.  You can also see the difference between the way the floors were stained. 

My ceiling fan.

A shot of the bathroom tile and the wall, which is a light taupe color like the kitchen and living room.

This is my brother's room.  It's hard to tell in the photos, but the shade of blue is much lighter in his room.  My room is almost blue-gray.  The shots are at weird angles because I wanted to capture as much of the color contrast as possible - the floors, the trim and moulding, and the walls.

This is what used to be my room, and will now serve as the office/computer room.  Again, this shade of blue is actually a little different than the one in either of the other two rooms.

Here's the living room.  As you can tell, the light fixture isn't completed yet.  Before the fire, the house was painted almost completely white, off-white, or light gray (which looks white).  Not only does that show off every speck of dust, dirt, fingerprint, or mark, it's boring.  We wanted a lot more color this time around, which is why we went with taupe in the common areas and shades of blue in the bedrooms and basement.

The kitchen is the same color as the living room, but this shot shows off the recessed lighting, which I love. 

Again, this is a different shade of blue from any of the bedrooms.  This is the basement, which will become the entertainment hub once I get all my gear moved in.  The blue flecks in the floor tiles look great against the walls.

The bar area.  The walls here aren't actually different form the rest of the basement.  The effect is just caused by the lighting.  The bar itself is a very, very dark shade - almost midnight blue/black. 

So that's the latest.  The front porch should be repaired this week, which was the last major hurdle in moving back in.  We're hoping to get the OK to move some of our stuff back soon, which will also allow us to move our furniture delivery up a week or two. 

It seems entirely possible, and even likely, that we'll be able to move in before the September 30th date set by Jarvis Construction, but even if we have to wait the entire time, it's less than three weeks away.

I had considered holding a housewarming party, but thought better of it for several reasons.  First and foremost, we are terrible planners.  We are also cheap and not willing to buy alcohol for other people to drink.  Secondly, I have several pairs of friends who do not like each other.  The solution is to either neglect to invite some friends, which is just rude, or run the risk of the WWE Royal Rumble breaking out in my newly finished house.  The much easier solution is to simply invite people over one at a time to see the house, hang out for a while, and maybe have a few drinks and/or dinner individually. 

It's very possible the next set of pictures I post will be the completed house, filled with furniture, and hopefully some friends who come to visit.

Sold Out

Damn you, Google! 

A little over two years ago, I happened upon a blog by pure chance.  I was hanging out with a friend who was using my computer to surf some websites I couldn't have cared any less about, and we were just chit-chatting when suddenly I caught a glimpse of someone I recognized. 

It was an avatar photo on a message board, and it was someone who worked halfway down the hallway in the building where I also work! 

"Wait, go back up!" I said.  I took a better look, and sure enough I exclaimed "I know her!"

I read this blog for a few months, lurking in the shadows, catching up on older posts and reading any new ones.  Sure, it may have been a bit stalkerish, but it was not only interesting, it was funny!  She had (and still does) an amazing way with words that made things that may normally be mundane hysterical and entertaining to read.

I was eventually coaxed out of hiding by, what else, a video game related post.  She was one of the lucky ones who found a Wii in 2007 and purchased it as a Christmas gift for her two beautiful, adorable children.  Naturally, I offered some friendly advice: secure the wrist strap tight to make sure you don't end up with a Wii remote embedded in your TV courtesy of the little ones.  Kids aren't known for their moderation, after all.

I signed it with the name I've used as a handle for nearly a decade: CynicalMatt.

Lo and behold, the very next day she made a follow-up post.  It was about Wii Sports mostly, but she appended this little message to the end:
"P.S. - It appears I have several readers from work.  (Hi Matt A. on the 3rd floor.  Sorry, I couldn't resist.  I'm really resourceful...  Google sold you out."

Damn you, Google!  DAMN YOU ALL TO HELL!

My secret was out.  Surely this gun-toting woman and her gun-toting husband would kill me for stalking her.  I was a goner. 

But something happened...

She made a post about her 10 favorite albums, and I discovered we had another thing in common: an obsessive passion for discovering music.  Not just the crap you hear on the radio, but all kinds of stuff.  She was into Tricky and Massive Attack.  The only other person I know who even knows who Tricky is is deathly afraid of him and his on-stage convulsions, yet this female called Maxinquaye one of her 10 favorite albums. 

It was on.

E-mails were exchanged.  CDs were burned.  Many, many CDs.  I think I burned an entire spindle.  Two addicts, feeding each other's addiction.  Sure, we didn't like everything, but if not for her I may never have gotten into Death Cab For Cutie, Neverending White Lights, or M83, and she may never have heard Grandaddy, Orbital, or UNKLE.

In the span of a few short weeks, we moved from talking about music to talking about life - our pasts, our beliefs, and everything in between.  We had a plethora of in-jokes including "blue bunnies," spoon-smelling, and the infamous "I just got off - WEEEEEEEEEEEEE!"

We have confided things in each other that very few other people on Earth know.  She has given me advice at the most critical times, and I hope I've been able to repay that favor.  We share funny blogs and photos, and yes, we still share music regularly.  We go to lunch often, even after her initial fear that other people in the office may start spreading rumors (to hell with them, for the record), and we try to make each other laugh when the other needs it the most (although I have been known to be a bit more serious at times - like right now).

Even at the worst of times, she somehow manages to maintain her sense of humor and it's a quality I admire greatly.  It's the kind of strength I wish I had.  I admire her blunt honesty, and her undying love and devotion to her family. 

Really, when you think about it, I guess it's not such a bad thing that Google sold me out because it was the catalyst to a friendship that I value more than any material possession.  In record time, she was not only added to my stable of friends, but the people I consider my very best friends whom I trust with any and everything. 

So God bless you, Google.  And Happy Birthday/Anniversary, my friend!

$8,300 and 6 1/2 hours later...

I.  Am.  Exhausted.

But it was all worth it.  We went shopping today, and we accomplished more than we expected. 

Trips to Art Van, Gardner White, and Lowe's were all fruitful and almost all the necessities have been purchased and are awaiting delivery at the end of the month.

My mother was worried that we would somehow run out of insurance money.  Even if you estimate we've spent $10,000 already, which is an inflated estimate by probably $2-3,000 , that still leaves us with $50,000 to furnish the house with.  Since we are not buying furniture carved by hand out of the most exquisite, rare woods on Earth, we will be fine. 

After a delicious lunch at Five Guys Burgers & Fries, we hit up Art Van where we found the bulk of our furnishings.  We fell in love with several things, so the choice was tough to narrow down, but we eventually all reached an agreement. 

First up is the living room.  This is the couch we selected. 

The color in the photo is thrown off by the sunset.  It's actually a greenish color with pinks and blues in the threads.  It's very pretty, and the colorful matching throw pillows are included.

This should give you a better idea.  We picked up this chair and ottoman as well.  Near the top of the backing, you can get a better idea of the color.  The chair and sofa are both incredibly comfortable - that kind of comfortable where you feel like you're being swallowed by the fabric. 

This is the coffee table we selected for the living room.  That is slate around the glasss, which matches not only the sofa and chair very well, but even the breakfast bar, creating a nice flow from the kitchen to the living room.  Here's a closer shot of the table, so you can get a better idea of the array of colors.
 
Still doesn't do it justice thanks to the BlurMaster 3000 (aka the iPhone's built-in camera), but you can see the stony browns, reds, greens, and blues.

Next up is my brother's bedroom, where he picked this queen sized sleigh bed.  I forgot to get a picture of his TV chest, which has six large dresser drawers, then two openings for audio/video components and a nice flat top to place his new HDTV on.  The comforter set is display only, as we both already have our bedding picked out. 

As for my room, I got a very similar style of bed, though it is lacking the footboard.  The wood is also darker, but they both have similarly curved headboards.


Above you can see the dresser I chose.  I love the doors in the middle, and the smaller storage drawers on top (which were sold separately). 

Here's the dining room set we bought (sans the decorative pitchers).  This table is 100% real wood, as are the matching chairs.  You can see that the backs of the chairs are curved, which makes the unbelievably comfortable.  In the center of the table are three slate tiles that help tie the room together with the coffee table and the kitchen.  It's a smaller table, but with the breakfast bar only two steps away, we have more than enough space to dine. 

After Art Van, we headed up the street to Gardner White where we were stalked by a nervous salesman who seemed to appear when we would least expect it, offered stilted commentary on every piece we looked at, and didn't quite understand the need for families to talk amongst themselves without a pushy salesman around.  We actually had to excuse ourselves several times or else he would've just stood there and stared at us.  It was quite a different experience from Art Van, where we weren't followed or hounded like we were being hunted for sport.

Be that as it may, we did end up buying two leather recliners for the home theater area because they had a great deal on them. 

We stopped at Home Depot to look around, but it was hard to give them our business with a Lowe's literally on the opposite side of the parking lot.  Sure enough, we entered Lowe's and left after having purchased these:

 

The fridge is not picture because it was their last model and was still wrapped.  It was not a floor model; it was just the last one they had it stock and it never made it to the floor.  It was sitting in their warehouse and we inspected it through the box and plastic wrap.

All four of these items are Whirlpool devices, and they're all real stainless steel.  The fridge is a 25.3 cubic foot side-by-side with an ice maker/water dispenser.  The range is gas-powered and self-cleaning, with cast iron tops and a fifth burner in the center.  You can see the price tag says $718, but after their sale discount was applied, it ended up being $646. 

As an aside, we also stopped into Bed, Bath & Beyond where I picked up two nifty little art pieces that will go well in the home theater area.


There was also a huge, beautiful painting that we're going to purchase to hang behind the bar in the basement that I didn't think to get a picture of.  Accompanying these little kitschy paintings will be several official framed movie posters.  Undoubtedly, there will be a Blade Runner and at least one Dark Knight, but I'm still deciding what other films I want to purchase. 

So, let's recap.  We purchased a sofa, chair, ottoman, a queen sleigh bed, a standard queen bed, two dressers, a coffee table, two leather recliners, and four stainless steel appliances for $8,300.  Subtract that from the roughly $50,000 we have left to spend (which is actually more like $53,000), and I think we're going to be OK.

In fact, we're going to be golden.  There's still plenty of things to buy - plates, silverware, glasses, towels, more cookware, and all the other things a house needs.  My brother still needs to replace his electronics, which will be a couple grand, and we are going to need bookshelves, media (CD/DVD) racks, computer desks and office chairs, and possibly another chair for the living room or a loveseat for the basement.  We're also going to get another recliner (probably a rocker/recliner) and possibly a fake fireplace for what will become the reading nook in the basement, and a small chest fridge for the bar.  Oh, and a new fake Christmas tree.

Even taking all that into account, we should have so much money leftover that we're not even going to know what to do with it.  It's not as if the house will need any improvements, but I'm sure we'll find a way to spend it, whether it's replacing more clothes or CDs or buying more furniture.  Just running the math, we've already bought almost all the necessities for the house and we still have over 40 grand remaining to play with.  I think it's safe to say my dear mother's worrying is unfounded.

Everything will be delivered at the end of the month, once we're given the OK by the construction company.  Again, I want to extend my heartfelt thanks to everyone from Jarvis Construction for doing such a wonderful job on our house in such an amazing amount of time.

Today was a very exciting, very wonderful day.  I love everything we picked out and I can't wait to see it all inside our home.

Almost Home

It has been a long time since I've provided any updates on the progress of our house.  Sorry about that.  It's not that things are moving slowly, we haven't been to see it, or don't have a multitude of pictures.  I've just been a bad blogger.  The idea was to originally chronicle the journey from the fire to the completion of our mostly new house.  Like every other project I start, I get lax and let it fall by the wayside.

So to catch those who may have some interest in such things up, I'm going to post select pictures from the past several weeks and months, right up to some that were taken only an hour ago today.  I want to give you all an idea of how fast the construction company, Jarvis Construction, is working on our house.  I cannot say enough good things about these guys and the work they've done on the house. 

The following pictures were taken July 25, 2009, just after the completion of the rough drywall:
 

The living room.

 

The half-wall is the breakfast bar that separates the kitchen and dining area.

 

The upstairs bathroom.

The basement.  This is important to note because in the past, our basement was unfinished.  We had panelling on the walls and hideously ugly tile on the floor, but now it is going to be fully finished and will be the entertainment hub of the house.  My plans are to put all of my home theater equipment downstairs, and in the additional space afforded by the loss of what used to be the work room, we are now going to make a small reading nook.

That was a little over a month ago.  The following pictures were taken on August 6th, 2009:

 

The cabinets have been installed, and more importantly, the hardwood floors!  Only two weeks after the drywall was completed, the entire house had floors and cabinets installed.  I took pictures from several angles in the kitchen, showing the pantry space on the opposite wall pictured here, and the space where the fridge and dishwasher (another new addition for us) will go.

Now let's see what happened a little over a week later, on August 15th:

 

Pictures don't do justice to how nice this countertop actually looks.  It's textured, with blues, greens, and black all swirled together. 

 

The wall opposite the sink.  This is our pantry space, and the little ledge gives us more preparation space, or a place to put a canister set or something useful instead of the giant rack we used to have that housed our microwave, and nothing else of any practical use.

 

The breakfast bar, now with a top.  This is about a third the size of the old one, which is actually much nicer.  It mostly overhangs on the kitchen side and is far less intrusive than it was before.

 

The closet space in the living room, as well as the front door.  I love the little half-circle window on the door.  This closet used to have a sliding mirrored door that was a royal pain in the ass to clean. 

 

The tile that will eventually be installed in the bathroom.  It has a very natural stone look to it.

Not bad for nine days, huh?  Another nine days later, on August 24th, we stopped in again:

 

These have actually been installed for quite some time, but this was the first time I'd gotten a chance to photograph them.  These are the glass block windows that are now installed in our basement.

 

The floors have been stained!  The living room, kitchen, and main hallway all have this lighter, clear oak color.  Again, pictures can't really do justice to how nice and shiny it really is.

 

The bedroom floors, however, have a darker, cherry/brown stain.  It doesn't break the flow of the house at all.  In fact, it looks absolutely spectacular.

 

Remember those tiles?  Not only did they get the entire floor stained, but the bathroom AND basement tiles were installed.  Unfortunately, it was too dark to get a good shot of the basement tile, which is a beautiful white with blue flecks and swirls.  The walls of the basement will be a blue/gray color with white trim, which will contrast the floors beautifully.  At this time, they were still storing the closet doors for the rest of the house in the bathroom, which is why it looks a little crowded in there.

And finally, these shots were taken today around 5:30 PM:

 

Again, these blurry pictures from my iPhone cannot capture how gorgeous this combination looks, even in its unfinished state.  The stones still need to be grouted, but the colors fit the countertop PERFECTLY.  It looks better than I ever could have imagined when we compared it with the small sample chip in the store.  I was actually surprised to find these little stones go around the entire sink area, as I expected them to simply be behind the stove and the rest would be bare drywall (like it used to be).  I was pleasantly surprised to see these tiles go around the length of the entire kitchen sink and cabinet area. 

 

A much better shot of the upstairs bathroom, now almost 100% finished aside from a little area above the range of the shot. 

 

A much better shot of the bedroom floors, with their darker stain.  As you can see, the closet doors have all been fully installed (and the shelves and rails inside have been as well).

 

The beginnings of the bar in the basement.  This is the one area where I expect it won't be quite as nice as the one my dad built with his own two hands, but we hardly used it anyway.  Now that the basement is going to become the central entertainment area of the house, however, we agreed it would be nice to have a bar again.

 

Shelving in the downstairs bathroom area.  The basement bathroom is actually a fairly large room, so the far corner of it is perfect for additional storage space.

 

Last, but not least, the elusive basement tile.  This is a close-up of the stairs, and there is plenty of sawdust visible, but you get the idea of what it looks like. 

So that's it for now.  They're still expecting to finish by the end of September, which would be perfect timing since we just got our notice that we have to be out of the rental house by September 30th.  It seems like there's so little left to do, so I'm keeping my fingers crossed that their estimate is right.  It's so close I can feel it.

Restroom Weirdos

Hey, what's over here under all these cobwebs?

*blows off a thick layer of dust*

Hey, it's a blog!  Wow!  I forgot I had one of these!  Nifty...

So what possessed me to post again after two months of inactivity?  Sometimes you see something that is so out there, so strange, so... gross that you just have to tell somebody.

I have shared several stories from the restrooms at my place of employment.  For whatever reason, the restrooms seem to be the equivalent of a full moon and the freaks all come out once inside their palely illuminated walls.  There's the guy who stands at the urinal, disregarding the open one right next to it or the empty stalls, and smiles at you until you're finished.  There's a guy whose might be running a business out of one of the stalls, or perhaps his job description is stall guard, because he is always in there.  In nearly six years, I don't think I've ever entered the restroom without seeing this man emerge from one of the stalls.  And yes, he seems to be in there multiple times a day.  Either he eats an awful lot of fiber, or he really needs to see a doctor about his problem.  Then there was the time I found - I am not even close to kidding - pubes.  Not like stray pubes on the seat of a toilet, but on top of one of the urinals.  If you think that's the grossest thing ever, you'd be right, because it is.  How they got there, I don't know.  Maybe whoever yanked them out and placed them there.  Maybe a 12 foot tall man used the urinal and they just happened to fall there as he towered over it.  Maybe he did a split-jump on the wall like a spy and decided he needed to shave.  I don't know and I don't wanna know.

But today... today I saw something just plain... awkward.

I walked into the third floor restroom to find a young man.  Itself not so unusual, this being a men's bathroom and all.  This young man, however, was doing push-ups.  On the floor, near the sinks, just doing push-ups.

There are several activities one frequently and normally engages in during a visit to the lavatory.  Calisthenics are not one of them.

You have no idea how awkward it is to stand there, holding your manhood in your hands, and listening to another man grunting behind you as he works out.  This is why the shower area is separate from the exercise equipment at the gym.  They're not all in the same room because there is a time and place for both of them, and at no point do they intersect.

But there he was, doing his push-ups and informing me that I had found his "secret workout space."  Excuse me, "secret?"  Did you say "secret?"  The third floor employee bathroom is not a "secret."  It's in a building occupied by several hundred people.  It's open to all and does not require a key or an electronic card to access.  It's also a place where I once found pubes on top of a urinal, so God only knows what is on that floor that you are now putting your hands all over.

When he was done, he stood up, wished me a good day, and left.  Did you notice how I didn't say he washed his hands, then left?  That's because he did no such thing.  He did push-ups, on the floor of a restroom where people enter and exit hundreds of times daily to relieve themselves of bodily waste, then stood up and left.  I suppose I should give him points for being polite, but the gross factor sort of makes that irrelevant.  He could've told me he was going to murder me and have sex with my corpse and I would have been less offended than I was over the fact that he didn't wash his hands and is now touching other places in the building that I may need to touch at some point.

If I walk in there tomorrow and he's riding an elliptical, then I'm going to tell him I own the building and start charging him a membership fee.

This Weekend Only - Lolz, 2-for-1

I came to the realization that I am horribly out of shape.  How did I reach this conclusion?  I've been limping for two days as a result of the limited physical activity of this past weekend.

I'd like to tell you that I'm sore because I ran a marathon, or I played a bunch of basketball.  Maybe I went to the gym and worked out, or did something remarkably cool and masculine like wrestling a tiger.  But the truth of the matter is that I'm sore because I went bowling.  That's it.  Just bowling.   No, I wasn't running down the lanes, diving head first into the pins either.  The ball was just a regular ball, not made out of wrought iron or anything.  Strangely enough, it's my right thigh that hurts and not my arm or shoulder.

This seems like a sign that I should probably do more physical activity.  In case it's been a while for you, let me remind you that bowling requires little more than walking three or four steps and hurling a ball down a greased wooden lane.  You can weigh 350 pounds and still bowl, not to mention be good at it!  I'm about 5'10", weigh 220 pounds and I bowled less than 100 for 2 out of the 3 games, and now I'm hobbling around like a 4,000-year-old-man with arthritis.

As amusing as this may be to some of you (myself included), nothing can top the second half of the story.  You see, I was invited bowling by some friends, who invited some of their other friends as well.  One of these friends is a pretty cute female, who also just happens to live about a mile away from me.  She seemed like a sweet enough person, so I decided I'd send her a friend request on Facebook, which is normally harmless.

That is until two days later when I realized that I'd changed my profile picture on Facebook to this:

For those of you who don't watch The Tonight Show with Conan O'Brien, allow me to explain:
Conan took a trip to a celebrity wax museum where most of the sculptures bore only a passing resemblance to the celebrities they were supposed to be.  The two shown here are Henry Winkler as The Fonz, and Tom Cruise in an oversized suit with a creepy permanent grin.  Instead of placing The Fonz in his signature thumbs up "Heyyy" stance, the sculptor decided it would be easier to just have his hand hang in mid-air and Conan observed that it looked like he was finishing up at a urinal.  He purchased both statues and for several nights has had them reappear throughout the studio, always with Tom Cruise leering suggestively at The Fonz as he does his business.

So imagine, if you will, receiving a friend request from someone you barely know and whose profile picture appears to be a man watching another man urinate.  Something tells me my request is not going to be approved.

Go ahead and laugh.  It's funny.  In fact, when it occurred to me this morning I burst out laughing at a friend's desk, prompting them to look at me as though I were insane (which I may very well be since it did not occur to me BEFOREHAND to change my profile picture back to something more suitable).  I might almost be mad at myself if it weren't so Goddamn funny.

Like the Detroit Lions, I always find a way to screw up in the most hilarious way possible!

Update: It should be noted that after this post was typed, said female actually sent me a friend request, which has since been accepted.  Apparently, she did not get my request - which is probably a good thing in hindsight.  So I dodged a bullet, which is an incredible feat since I was attempting to shoot myself in the foot. 

[sic]

I once knew a girl who was crazy.  I realize a woman crazy is sort of redundant, as even most females will admit, but this particular girl was beyond the acceptable levels of crazy.  She was past the cute-crazy phase and more into the ran-away-and-lived-in-a-drainpipe-for-four-days-crazy area.  For the sake of protecting her identity, we'll call her... Welissa.  I'm sure no one will figure that out.

Anyhow, for a short while Welissa and I were friends and I even found myself attracted to her.  Fortunately for me, she either wasn't interested, too crazy for a relationship, or both.  Long story short, our friendship didn't last very long and it ended badly, culminating in a short, but amusing Twitter War.

Perhaps it was the relief that my skin was not used as a lampshade in her house, or because we barely knew each other, but I shrugged it off pretty well.  However, every once in a while my good friend BitterMatt makes a visit, and yesterday was just such an occasion.

During his visit, BitterMatt checked out Welissa's blog where she claims to "ponder everything."  In reality, it's little more than cut-and-paste internet and e-mail jokes, with nary an original thought to be found.  Despite the presence of these jokes, the funniest thing on the page is undoubtedly the lone original text on it - the About Me section.  Take a look for yourself:
Your first instinct may be to chuckle because she said "do do."  Heh.  Doo-doo.  She also forgot the apostrophe in "I've," but I'm not the Punctuation Police.  This is to say nothing of the fact that she claims these are her own thoughts.  Perhaps she is the secret identity of Carlos Mencia, because all I see are jokes stolen from other sources.

Funny though these things may be, they're not what you should be focusing on.

What you should do is go to Google and search for "no holes barred."  You should probably do this from a private, and not a public or office computer.  Now join me in laughing because that phrase does not mean what Welissa thinks it means.

I believe the term she was looking for is "no holds barred."  Holds.  With a D.  That one little change makes a WORLD of difference.

We really had a good laugh about it, BitterMatt and I, but then he took his leave and all was good in the world again.

The End.