It’s been a rough start to 2019 so I’m going to blog a bit.
2019 So Far: I’m Not Crying, You’re Crying
Take the good with the bad. We had a sort of great vacation in Parry Sound. No kids, thanks to our collective families for making that happen. But we were both sick. Good with bad.
I cracked a tooth over the holiday season. Perfect timing. Didn’t need that molar anyways. Couldn’t chew for a week though that’s probably a good thing considering my waistline. The tooth has been extracted (that was a whole thing) and I got to experience a bone graft for the first time. Not often I can say I got to experience something for the first time now that I’ve started my long (ish) descent to the grave. I’m nearer to 40 than I am 30. Weird to say that; I used to think I wouldn’t care but I guess I do, a little. I’m getting an implant, and I’m told they’re Tooth 2.0, improved on the original model.
There’s not a whole lot about my life I’d change, but if I could go back I’d take better care of my teeth. I know you’re thinking… but what about that time you did this thing or that thing. Well, yeah, sure, but I’d take better care of my teeth and maybe the rest would follow. Are teeth magic? Maybe.
The whole family got beat up by the end of December, beginning of January. Kids are in school so that’s our pipeline to every infectious disease this side of the plague. I thought I had a good immune system. Maybe I did. Now I don’t.
We just need to get healthy, that’s all. Big ask, but I’m asking.
Also the basement drain just backed up, so there’s that. Apparently there’s a building trap buried in our basement against all common decency so if you want to come dig that out, I’ll get out my chequebook.
I used to own a bunch of high horses. Trashy TV was one of them. Dance music and electronic music was another.
A bunch of years has cured me. I listen to EDM while I work. I watch trashy TV to unwind. Grey’s Anatomy in particular. At least it’s not reality TV, amirite? (I do the sweet sweet blow, not that dirty meth stuff.)
That said, the whole falling in love with Denny Ducet’s ghost thing is the show at its nadir. Like, come on, I get that you have to drive the dramatic throughline of the show or whatever, but the GHOST of DENNY DUCET? The GHOST. Of DENNY. DUCET.
Oh and Meredith is so exactly my type, it’s not even funny. I’d be her McSweaty.
Do What You Love As Long As It’s Not Stabbing People
Oh hey, I don’t hate my job anymore because it turns out you might not hate your job if you’re doing something you love.
Should have turned to software development years ago. I might not be going as grey as I’m going.
Hell Is Other People
I swore on this very blog once. I used the word “hell” outside its proper brimstone context and got pulled into a church meeting about it. I respect that those folks were sincere in their beliefs and they genuinely wanted me to do the right thing, but how crazy bonkers is that?
Anyways. I have interviews tomorrow. There’s nothing I hate more than interviews. I don’t like meeting a bunch of new folks, I don’t like evaluating them, I don’t like talking about their futures, I don’t like being the one with all that responsibility, I just don’t like any of it. I want to build cool shit. But it turns out I can only do so much, so… Interviews.
I’ve spent most of today just researching interview techniques, questions to ask, exercises to do, and finding at the same time that if I wasn’t designing this interview myself I would absolutely BOMB it. Like, no question.
Also big O notation. See why it’s a thing. Hate its guts.
Just Some Random Opinions
Destination weddings: Hate them. Stupid waste of money. Except that I’m kind of jealous that some folks have that kind of money and that they just assume others have that kind of money. On the other hand if you pay for me to come to your destination wedding I love them and I probably love you. I have a Dutch soul.
Generations: Dumb concept. Also useful concept. It’s super handy to be able to refer to Baby Boomers. Mostly in the context of shitting all over the world and future generations. Boomer and Gen X hate for Millennials is getting out of hand. You made the world that Millennials inhabit you rabid potatoes.
Pronouns: Anything other than “he” or “she” stresses me out. But me being stressed out is not a great reason to start a social movement with its own Patreon. Think of “they” as a way to exercise that tiny bit of neuroplasticity you’ve got left. In a completely unrelated note, if you start an all-beef died you give me carte blanche to ignore everything you say; you are not a stable person. Ad hominem loses to fruit of the poisonous tree.
Italicising foreign phrases: I’m too lazy to do it.
The Ways My Life Could Have Gone
I’m not a huge fan of me. I internalised all that fundamentalist Protestant guilt, I guess. I hate that about myself, and you can see how that’s the sort of worm that doesn’t turn.
Anyways. I’m not going to go into what made me think this recently, but I’m so thankful for Laura. Not just for who she is (of course for that!) but for who she isn’t.
That doesn’t seem like it would be a very important thing in a spouse… but it is. And I’m not just talking in abstractions like “I’m so glad Laura doesn’t like stabbing people”, but concretions. I’m glad she’s not part of the flypaper. I’m glad we got out together.
That would be enough, but she’s a wonderful person, a fantastic mother, and last but not least (and she’ll kill me for this) she’s got a dynamite booty.
But she likes chocolate.
That’s All Folks
I’ve been serious and earnest for too long. Has to stop. I need to get back to assembling the deck for tomorrow. Pray some luck my way.