Adrift

This is only an update, this is not a real entry.

Note to self: Contact Nissan and ask if they would make a model named Sumida (sue-me-da). My three year-old came up with the name and tells me I should buy one. Granted, we don't have a Nissan currently, never had, and no one we know has one. If Nissan does come out with the Sumida my son is psychic and I will start asking him for the lotto numbers.

- M

Spent Father's day with the family. Met up with my parents, sisters, brother-in-law, niece, my step-daughter, my wife, my brother-in-law's parents, and my two-year old son at my sister's apartment. Earlier I had been given a Wii for father's day. I had set it up and played with some features but then we had to run around before going to my sister's.

Her apartment was a little hot and crowded, but it was a nice time. She really tried. Later on, my wife did some acupuncture on my brother-in-law's father as his hand and shoulder were bothering him. The rest of us took the kids to the park and played on the swings and new-fangled jungle gyms. My niece is three.

After a while my son got over-tired and cranky. He demanded we leave. Actually, he doesn't say much so he pointed at the door and said 'Out!' over and over again. We got our things and left. My step-daughter stayed behind to catch the train into NYC as she was going to the Iron Maiden concert at MSG.

My son went right out after a little food at home. My wife an I played around with the Wii's features (Mii parade!) and after a while she went to bed as well. I then played the sports games. I played boxing and was up jabbing and dodging and worked up a sweat.

Right before I turned the Wii off I figured I would check the news on their news feature. The first article was about a man who was killed in the act of beating a child to death. The description was revolting. I could never consider hurting my son or my step-daughter (now 17). I worry he might fall when he's climbing or that he didn't drink enough water when we were out in the sun. Once I even listened to someone telling about a cruise they went on and then considered taking my son on one but got worried when I thought about his ability to climb ~ I imagined him climbing the railing on a ship and swore I'd never get on a boat with him until his teens. It might be that I had my son late in life, I'm 39. Or it could be that I'd lost my faith in the afterlife and fear death. Or it could be that I'm a regular human being with some fucking morals, but I'd never think about harming a child. The story didn't just piss me off, it made me nauseous. People couldn't stop this guy. They had to fly cops in by helicopter to take him out. Fucking disgusting. The poor child. Two years and he only knew pain. Fear and pain and suffering.

I'm writing this here because I cannot discuss it with my wife. She won't be able to listen to it without getting upset as well. When she went to bed she left knowing that she made my day. That this was the best Father's Day yet (Father's Day as a step-dad never felt real, not for me). She's never been that good with gift giving and she knocked my socks off. I'd rather let her feel that way a little more.

I find small odd pleasures in life. Simple things that I never thought I would acknowledge.

I have to write an abundance of checks at work. Most of the numbers are the same, day in and day out.

Writing them by hand is tedious but there are times when the amounts are different.

I like writing the numbers Seventy Six and Thirty Two. I enjoy the duplicity of the letters. I enjoy the swirls of the S's.

I delegate work to those who work for me (with me / under me). A lot of the same Christian names. Standards.

I like sending notes to Deepa. I am not sure what her name means. She is older than I, a British accent from the upper class schools in India. I don't know her, not like I know the others. She is quite pleasant and polite. I enjoy typing her name and I think of the sound as I do. Dee-pa. I wouldn't name a child Deepa, it's not mine to hand out. But I like it all the same.

We've spent a couple of days here in Sryacuse and this has to be the loudest motel I've been in. Not the the other guests, they've all been respectful of the time and been very quiet. And not the staff either, we haven't even been interrupted by the cleaning staff. It's the damn jets flying around after nine that's killing me.

I guess we're by a military airbase because after nine, for the past two mornings, what sounds like two jets fly a pattern over the motel for half a minute. It's either that or giant robots invade at that time every morning.

The worse was being up until five this morning just because. we were wired when we got home and just couldn't fall asleep. We talked with the lights off, stupid stuff. Just didn't want the day to end.

Why is it that a search with the 'Explore LJ' feature for fat brings up proanorexia?
I wanted to read some views on losing weight. A quick search for fat and now I'm thinking that I've got a healthier lifestyle then I thought. I'm outta here. Dunkin' is in walking distance and they've got a glazed stick and a coffee with my name on it.

Do you think there's somebody out there
Someone else who's better than the one you've got?
Well there's not, there's not

- The Cap'm
They Might Be Giants

Microsoft Word 10.1.8 does not work on Leopard (OSX 10.5) but Appleworks 6.2.9 does.

Weird. Not that I'm going to change my default word processor, as Appleworks looks to be stuck in the nineties, but good to know in a pinch.

I hope everyone has a happy Halloween.

Mine was dreadfully boring. But that's my own doing.

http://vids.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=vids.individual&videoid=19482974

Don't look like a Mohenjo-Daren.

MacZot is still around.

The software they offer has calmed down some; now we get offerings on middle-of-the-road products, not bad products but not Wow! products. I keep them in mind, and continually try to win a freebie, as they have offered RapidWeaver themes in the past. I snatched those up right quick.

I find that Apple's Safari 3 ruins the saved passwords file when you remove it.

I loaded it, didn't like it. Too many glitches. I used the un-installer Apple provided and switched back to Safari 2. I should indicate that I'm on a Mac somewhere in this rant. Anyways, after moving back to Safari 2 I found I cannot keep my passwords straight. Webpages that I've never had to remember my password for, as it was auto-loaded, I now struggle to log in to.

Moments ago I swtiched back to Safari 3. On the flip side, iTunes decided it couldn't find my 50g of music and videos...

The Vineyard Theatre's auction includes a poster and window card from People are Wrong.

See it here -

http://cgi.ebay.com/ws/eBayISAPI.dll?ViewItem&item=110125103851

Only because it's a new image...

It just keeps getting better. My 40 gig iPod is almost full (1.3 GB to go). So much goodness on the iPod courtesy of Songbird.

There are times when I wonder where the rest of my life went. It's all wrapped up in my loss of faith in God and the afterlife, I know, but still I get stunned sometimes thinking about everything that's happened so far. How'd I get here so quickly.

On one hand I am so happy I waited so long to have a kid. There's nothing better than getting in the car after work and high-tailing it home just to catch a minute of two with him before he goes to bed. Nothing. For so many years I'd get out of work and think of a bunch of things to occupy my time. From ice skating to hockey games, to searches for obscure stores I heard about in lower Manhattan, I'd have something to do. Now, nothing to do and everything to see. I can't think of any other person who's made such an impact on my life.

On the other hand I'm sorry I waited so long 'cause I'm 38 now. 38, that's old. At least it was when I was a kid. Now when my son's 10 I'll be 48. At 21, the big year, I'll be 59. I won't be the young Dad throwing the football around. Hell, I worry about being there at all (fear of Death, it's a hoot and a holler).

Right now I'm home alone and he's at the babysitter's. Greta is at work. He's grown out of the babyseat that was in my car (given back to my Aunt last month) so I can't even drive over to get him. I'm not fond of driving around with a baby in my lap a'la Brittney.

I wait.

I feel this way too -- http://www.cafepress.com/coffeemonster -- coffee is better than sex!

Growing up my family and I always went for the horror movies. The scarier the better. I guess this comes from my mother, who always could see the man in the rubber mask. Like her I quickly grew to appreciate the story and not get caught up in the virtual reality of the movie. At a young age I lost my ability to willing suspend my disbelief. Thus, anything that really scared me became one of my instant favorites.

The same goes for nightmares. Most times I would wake and tell family members of my nightmares because they never really scared me. The worse life got, the more vivid my dreams were. Things chasing me, falling off buildings, none of it would wake me in a panic. There was only one dream that I've had that really scared me. I woke to find that my room was bathed in red light and hotter than hell. I couldn't move a muscle but only stare at my ceiling. And there was something in the room with me. Something was going through my room and systematically destroying my stuff, slowly working it's way to me. After about five minutes it finally made it's way to my bedside. I could smell it, it was wet and clammy. It reached over and dragged it's long curved nails across my chest. I awoke in a start.

That was the best nightmare I could remember. I enjoyed it. It actually scared me and had an effect on my waking self. That was until this past weekend.

I dreamt that I was looking for parking. I was driving my wife's xB and she was in the back with my son. Instead of the car seat that he is always strapped into, Johnny was on my wife's lap. We were on the sixth floor of a parking garage and I couldn't find parking so I was going back down the spiraling ramp. My wife insisted on looking for parking herself and rolled down her window. We were between the fifth and sixth floors of the parking garage when my eight month old son tumbled from her arms, through the air, and landed head first on the pavement below. His body flopped over onto his back and he was staring up, still.

People couldn't get out of my way quick enough. I was screaming. I forgot about my wife and left the van, running down, running to the form of my son.

I woke up fighting the blankets. I was sweating. I sprinted into Johnny's room and picked him up out of the play area. I kissed him and held him. I never had someone mean so much to me before. I have never really understood what parents went through, or why. Watching newscasts where people cry because they lost family members was foreign to me. God forbid anything like this ever happens. I don't know what I'd do.