"Daddy, did you call me a dickhead?"
"No hon, the lady in front of us is a dickhead"
"Oh, ok, Daddy"
Out of the mouths of 3 1/2 year old babes it shall be spoken. The wife then goes on to inform me that I need to filter my car language.
"But Sweetheart, dickhead is filtering!"
Thursday, May 22, 2008
Thursday, May 15, 2008
Post Office Blues
Went to the PO today for the second time in as many weeks. I'm not sure what it is about the post office, but here in my town apparently they have no rules as to when/how people work the counters there.
Last time I went on a Thursday morning and there must've been 10 people in line, with 2 people behind the counters. One guy was with a little old lady for about 5-10 minutes, while the other one was helping someone with a problem, so it took about 20 minutes to send my package. I only went in because the auto-package sending machine wasn't large enough for my box. Occasionally an employee would come out from the back, step up to a counter, and you'd think maybe they were about to open up, only to psych you out by turning around and walking back to the back.
Today I went a little later than last time...still a Thursday, but around 10.30ish am. I was the only person in line. There was one guy ahead of me, standing at an empty counter. I probably waited about 5 minutes wondering whether he had even been helped, or whether we were just wasting our time. Finally a guy came back and apparently couldn't find his package. Then another employee came out from the back, went up to a counter, fishing around in a drawer for something, then headed back again. She came back a minute later and finally opened up that counter.
Seriously, who the hell is running the post office? I don't know why they call it 'going postal', those bastards have it pretty good down at my local spot. I'm tempted to throw my lot in with them.
Last time I went on a Thursday morning and there must've been 10 people in line, with 2 people behind the counters. One guy was with a little old lady for about 5-10 minutes, while the other one was helping someone with a problem, so it took about 20 minutes to send my package. I only went in because the auto-package sending machine wasn't large enough for my box. Occasionally an employee would come out from the back, step up to a counter, and you'd think maybe they were about to open up, only to psych you out by turning around and walking back to the back.
Today I went a little later than last time...still a Thursday, but around 10.30ish am. I was the only person in line. There was one guy ahead of me, standing at an empty counter. I probably waited about 5 minutes wondering whether he had even been helped, or whether we were just wasting our time. Finally a guy came back and apparently couldn't find his package. Then another employee came out from the back, went up to a counter, fishing around in a drawer for something, then headed back again. She came back a minute later and finally opened up that counter.
Seriously, who the hell is running the post office? I don't know why they call it 'going postal', those bastards have it pretty good down at my local spot. I'm tempted to throw my lot in with them.
Tuesday, May 06, 2008
Funny things
So I just got a call from my sister in law, Sarah. I almost didn't answer, because the caller id said, "Hnatiuk Vasil", and that pretty much spells trouble right there. Hnatiuk is very much an Eskimo name in my book, and Vasil is short for Vagisil, so no thanks, I don't want what you're selling.
But sometimes I just have to see who it is, so I picked it up. Sarah was calling from New York. She lives in L.A. but is out on the east coast for some reason or another (maybe or maybe not traveling under the alias Hnatiuk Vasil.
Anyway, Sarahnatiuk Vasilcole was calling me to tell me she was on the subway platform in New York and she ran into my sister, who lives in New York. They have only met once I believe, a year and a half ago at my wedding.
Crazy.
You wanna hear another crazy story? Not sure what made me remember this, but as I was driving home from Target today I was thinking about a weird thing that happened to me several years ago. I was living in Seattle, and lived maybe 2 blocks from work. I was walking along a bike/jogger path heading home, on a nice and bright spring day. I was overtaking a young lady also walking down the path, and she started talking to me. You know, the usual, isn't it a lovely day sort of stuff. And she's carrying a can of beer, some tallboy of Pabst or something. And she's like, You want a drink of beer? And I'm like, Sure. So I drank from her can, there on the bike trail behind work at 3 pm in the afternoon.
I'll always cherish that memory.
Other updates:
Got a new roof put on. Looks good. We'll see what happens when it rains, but it was a relatively painless experience.
Noah's learning new words every day. Hot, bowl, ball (these may be the same word), Bob-bob for Spongebob
Lexi's learning grown-up phrases. Sample: I was absolutely right, I need my footy pajamas because it's too cold.
Or this one: We were driving yesterday and a lady in front of me was being a moron (going too slow, not signaling, the usual). I'm like, "Come on!"
Lexi: What's wrong Daddy?
Me: Nothing, she's just being dumb.
Lexi:Are you mad?
Me: No, not really, just a little bit, more irritated
Lexi: You must be just a little bit mad, you didn't say fuck.
Me: You're right, I'm not mad enough to say fuck.
Me: Don't say fuck.
And with that, my resolution to swear less is not going so well.
But sometimes I just have to see who it is, so I picked it up. Sarah was calling from New York. She lives in L.A. but is out on the east coast for some reason or another (maybe or maybe not traveling under the alias Hnatiuk Vasil.
Anyway, Sarahnatiuk Vasilcole was calling me to tell me she was on the subway platform in New York and she ran into my sister, who lives in New York. They have only met once I believe, a year and a half ago at my wedding.
Crazy.
You wanna hear another crazy story? Not sure what made me remember this, but as I was driving home from Target today I was thinking about a weird thing that happened to me several years ago. I was living in Seattle, and lived maybe 2 blocks from work. I was walking along a bike/jogger path heading home, on a nice and bright spring day. I was overtaking a young lady also walking down the path, and she started talking to me. You know, the usual, isn't it a lovely day sort of stuff. And she's carrying a can of beer, some tallboy of Pabst or something. And she's like, You want a drink of beer? And I'm like, Sure. So I drank from her can, there on the bike trail behind work at 3 pm in the afternoon.
I'll always cherish that memory.
Other updates:
Got a new roof put on. Looks good. We'll see what happens when it rains, but it was a relatively painless experience.
Noah's learning new words every day. Hot, bowl, ball (these may be the same word), Bob-bob for Spongebob
Lexi's learning grown-up phrases. Sample: I was absolutely right, I need my footy pajamas because it's too cold.
Or this one: We were driving yesterday and a lady in front of me was being a moron (going too slow, not signaling, the usual). I'm like, "Come on!"
Lexi: What's wrong Daddy?
Me: Nothing, she's just being dumb.
Lexi:Are you mad?
Me: No, not really, just a little bit, more irritated
Lexi: You must be just a little bit mad, you didn't say fuck.
Me: You're right, I'm not mad enough to say fuck.
Me: Don't say fuck.
And with that, my resolution to swear less is not going so well.
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