Dad has impeccable timing

Monday afternoon an email arrived from our new project manager. Normally I won't bother reading emails from HR, Office Managers, or Project Managers unless someone says, "Hey, did you see what so-and-so's email said", but for some odd reason I went ahead and read it. The new guy is British, so I thought maybe there'd be something funny in there like the word cheerio or govna.

Much to my dismay there was no clever usage of breakfast cereals or references to political office. It was a meeting notice, and worse yet a meeting notice that was recurring every single day from 2:30-3. It was to be one of those, "What did you do today?" meetings which my people tend to hate.

I got up to march over to Sean's office and ask, "What the hell?" when my computer sounded a tone to inform me that I had received an instant message. It was from Sean and read:
"What the hell?"
I jumped up and made the 5 foot trek to his office.
"I know!"
"Did you notice that you have to list 5 things, including what your best moment was today, and what your worst moment was today?"
"I'm pretty sure my worst moment was when that email arrived. Do you think that's acceptable?"
"You should say, 'Rachel hugged me last night'"
"She did hug me last night, and it was awesome... are you spying on me? I don't think I can say that in the meeting anyhow. I don't want Laing to cry because he's jealous that I touched a real female."

After a good 45 minutes of bitching about how we didn't have 15 minutes to waste every day on some silly meeting we finally gave up and went back to myspacingwork.

That day just happened to be my parent's wedding anniversary. I'm sure someone told me how many years, but I've since forgotten. I'm going to venture a guess at 36 years though. My assumption is that my dad hadn't planned anything great and was, last minute, scrambling for an idea.

About an hour before the meeting I was looking for a way to get out of it when I got a call from my mom.

"Well... your father's had a heart attack."
"Where are you?"
"T-Bird"
"I'll be right there"

I was gone before anyone even noticed and going slightly above the recommended speed on my way up I-17. I eventually found my family in the waiting room of the ICU. By that time he was completely stable and still insisting that it was just "that spicy chicken sandwich" that he'd had for lunch, and not a heart attack.

Two separate doctors went over the situation with us. Everyone in the family nodded in agreement as though they had any idea as to what was going on. I for one was lost, but really didn't know what questions to ask so I just listened. One thing I understood was, "Quadruple Bypass, tomorrow". By this time we got to see my dad, who was laying on some sort of x-ray type table.

He was in good spirits and joking around about how he had done it just to get out of the anniversary. The doctor casually asked if he had any questions. I'd assume he expected the normal, "Is it going to hurt?" or something small like that. What the doctor didn't count on is my dad's endless quest for knowledge that even a heart attack can't slow.

I've joked with him by calling him Cliff Claven due to his savant like memorization of every show that has every played on either the history channel or discovery channel. Soon they were bringing heart models and discussing the exact names of which arteries were to be bypassed. After a lengthy amount of research/discussion, my dad finally agreed to the surgery.

Later in the evening he asked me how my day was. I told him about the meeting and he told me I should have gone.
"Nah, I was looking for an excuse to get out of it anyhow"

Today he was moved from the ICU to a normal bed and appears to be recovering well. The doctor described the operation as "text book".

A Shout Out

I wrote this entry a while back after receiving numerous complaints. "What about the time we did x. How come you didn't write about that?" Just as I was about to post it though, somebody else complained(And eventually went on to write her own blog entry for me I might add). I can't make it appear as though I'm bowing to the complaints, so I never posted it. I could go back and fix this up, but instead you get a half finished entry.


This blog is much like a door peephole in to my life. While things close to the front are over magnified(And oftentimes fish eyed), most other things are obscured and hazy. One of the more interesting things about keeping a blog has been all of the things that don't get published. Unpublished stories come in two formats; Some stories are written but never published(for various reasons), and some stories are just never written.

Of the latter, the majority remain so due to the fact that there is no story. It's not that there wasn't an event of some nature that was interesting, normally associated with a person equally interesting. It's that there's no story to it. For example, I may never write of the night that I went with Maya to see a sewage waterfall and then ate Chinese food. I'll probably never talk about Rebecca and her friend staying the night last week, or the recent trip to see Grindhouse with Kendall and her mantourage, or even watching Pan's Labyrinth with Laura.

When I say that there is no story, what I mean is that there was no drama, conflict, or embarrassment for me, which are the cornerstones of any post I make. For some odd reason, a "fun, normal night" just isn't blogable night.


So, with that said, for everyone who is sad that they haven't "made the blog", keep faith alive. I'm bound to do something with you around and then you'll be utterly disappointed in how an insignificant event is immortalized in an equally insignificant blog entry.

Nerd Word(s): Swing the bat

Swing the bat
- verb

1. To help a friend out, especially in relations with members of the opposite sex.

[ Origin: Unknown ]

- synonyms
1. H.B.O.(Help a Brotha Out)
2. Go to bat

- usage
1. "You gonna swing the bat for me with that new girl at your office?"
2. "Come on Kendall, I think your sister and I would hit it off well. Go to bat for me."
3. "Sean really swung the bat for me by calling in a favor. His buddy got me 2 grand off my new car"

Miranda's 21stPart 1 - Miranda Swings the Bat

Miranda's 21st birthday was divided in to two separate, but equally intoxicated events. The first was to be a gathering of friends and family at "Fox & Hound", a local bar. At that point in time my bar experience included a trip or two out with Stacey where I probably embarrassed her by clutching to her arm like a child to his mother's apron strings, and a few Nick at Night reruns of Cheers. If it has yet to be made apparent, I'm a bit uneasy in social situations, and in a social place like a bar I'm worse.

I arrived at the bar after most of the people had shown up. I did a quick headcount. Norm, Cliff, and Sammy were nowhere to be found, and it was unlikely that Miranda had invited my ex-girlfriend, so all of my bar experience was for not.

At this point in time, I also didn't know any of my sister's friends(Funny how my knowledge of bars and my sister's friends grew in parallel). I pulled up a bar stool and made conversation with my family and a few of the other people, but my family quickly left.

"So are any of your friends cute, single, and in to short nerds?" I asked my sister who was already quite inebriated.

"No, not that I can think of. There's Pat.... Shelley!" her face lit up as she paused to yell and wave to her friend who had entered the bar behind me. "Shelley" she said turning back to me as if in answer to my question.

I turned to see Shelley who was exceptionally cute, exceptionally tall, exceptionally out of my league, and to top it all off bore a striking resemblance to Stacey. I twisted back around ready to ask Mory what the she was thinking and then remember, Oh yeah, you're drunk.

"Come here Shelley, sit by me. This is my brother. Play him in checkers." Miranda said while busily arranging the checker board built in to the bar, "He's smart, and rich!"

I shook my head to dismiss her. I appreciated the talk up, but it would have been nicer had it been true. I nervously made small talk with Shelley while simultaneously getting crushed in checkers. Half way through the game my sister turned back around from the conversation she had been having to "help" yet again. "TELL MY BROTHER HE'S HOT" she yelled(Thinking she was whispering) in to Shelley's ear.

"You're hot" Shelley told me.
"I'm sorry" I responded, again shaking my head.

As the evening wound down people began to leave. Eventually there were only a few people left and everyone save Mory, Shelley and myself had gone to play darts. A minute or two after the split my sister's drunken eyes saw yet another opportunity and soon announced, "Oh, I'm going to go over there. I have to... um... tell... ah... um... Barbara something"

"Wow, that was awkward. I at least appreciate her trying" I said to relieve the weirdness.

We talked for a moment before Miranda returned.

"I forgot my beer" she said. She reached for the full glass that was sitting in front of me, but missed slightly and the glass tumbled over spilling beer down the front of my shirt and squarely in to my lap.

"Alright, thanks for the lovely evening. Happy Birthday Mory. It was nice meeting you Shelley"

NerdMory Word(s): Heart

Heart
- verb

1. To really like. Especially when intoxicated. Really.

[ Origin: Around the time of my sister's 21st birthday she decided she "hearted" everything ]

- synonyms
1. (In text message) <3

- usage
1. Drunk Girl #1: "I thought you were mad at me when you didn't call last night."
Drunk Girl #2: "No girl, I heart you"

2. "I totally heart that shirt"

Stacey Turns 27 Jesse Meets a P.A.P.Intro

Yeah yeah yeah, I know I'm falling behind, and unfortunately this isn't the normal story that you've come to know and lovetolerate. 98.3% of you will dismiss this one as whiny and emo, and the other 1.7%(Read: My mom) are now calling Miranda because you're "worried about Jesse". Don't worry, after I finish this story I'll try to get back to our regularly scheduled programming.

I've had 3 computers break in the past week(2 at work, 1 at home), and work has been killing me. Hopefully that's all behind me now and I can actually get back to the blog. Sorry for the delays. With any luck, I'll have something amusing to write about soon. This is an entry I've been not writing for a while. I've wanted to write it, but every time I sat down to do so it just didn't come out.

I thought I'd try my hand at writing something more serious. Unfortunately I just don't think that's me. It didn't come out well, but I don't think anymore effort on my part will change that.

I'm going to break with tradition and explain the obscure reference in the title(that nobody would have gotten anyhow). Stacey and I used to watch the old 60's show "The Avengers" together on DVD. Each episode had a brief summary beforehand that always shared the same format. For example:

Steed is shot full of holes
Emma sees stars

There's a part 2 coming... hopefully soon.

Stacey Turns 27 Jesse Meets a P.A.P.Part 1

"Turn around, you went the wrong way" I said as she picked up the phone. I didn't even wait for the customary "Hello".

"I wasn't sure where I was supposed to turn" she replied with a laugh.

I knew she would take the wrong turn, which was why I was downstairs waiting for her. It'd been almost a year since I'd seen Stacey, but some things don't really change. I still knew her better than I knew myself in some ways, and I'm sure the reverse would hold true.

For some inexplicable reason I'd offered to take her out for her birthday. In fact, I'd gone a step further and gotten two tickets to Ballet Arizona's production which included a piece from George Balanchine, her favorite choreographer. It was the birthday that Jesse from five years ago wouldn't have been thoughtful enough to make. It was the birthday that Jesse from now would like to kick him square in the ass for not thinking of.

I hopped in to the passenger seat as she pulled around and found her smiling back at me with a quick, "Hi".

Stacey has two, almost indistinguishable lines on either side of her smile. They're the only marks on an otherwise perfect face; they're the only sign that 10 years have passed since I met her. These "laugh lines" are so small that nobody else would notice them, but I do. They could be described as blemishes, but to me they're a mark created from years of smiling, years of happiness. They are a visual sign of who she is. They are beauty.

At one point in time I would have liked to take some of the credit for these lines, but I knew in my heart that they were not my doing. Her's is a happiness not dependant on external things. It's something I've always been simultaneously jealous of and attracted to.

I snapped back to reality as we pulled up to my condo. There was time before the ballet so we went up stairs to catch up. Within moments I fell back in to a familiar role. Old jokes were told, laughs were had, memories were reminisced. I love hanging out with her. Why did I wait 10 months to call her? I wondered to myself.

After an introduction to the neighbors, who were dying to meet her, we headed off for lunch. I had planned to take her to Postino's, a small sandwich/wine place. It was a favorite of the twins, and somewhat hidden. I knew that Stacey would like it, and was surprised when she said, "Postino's? Tara and I go there all the time." Oh yeah. Just because we haven't hung out in the past 3 years doesn't mean she's been at home knitting.

We decided instead to go to a sandwich shop close to the ballet as we didn't want to show up late. Lunch was great and we were soon on our way.

"So you're going to spend half the summer in Europe?" I asked on the car ride to the Orpheum, continuing our conversation from lunch. "Why so long?"

"Well, I'm going to a wedding in Italy, and one in France. I didn't think there was much point in coming back in between"

"That makes sense, who's getting married?" I knew an answer I wasn't looking for was coming, but I asked the question anyhow.

"My boyfriend has a friend who's..."

The words hit with an unexpected weight. I knew Stacey had someone in her life now. She has a way of letting me know without flat out telling me. It's an uncharacteristically sensitive approach to my feelings. Whether on purpose or not, it's something that is greatly appreciated.

It wasn't that there was someone that surprised me as much as the usage of the word boyfriend. In 3 years, she'd never used that word to describe somebody and had even gone so far as to protest when I had used it to describe someone she was "just dating."

"Oh, I guess I should have turned back there" I commented, trying to not seem affected even though the realization that I had missed my turn came almost a mile late.

We got to the ballet with plenty of time to spare, and discussed the only other time we had been before. I believe she had taken me last time because she needed to go for some school project. We couldn't exactly establish all of the details, but the one thing we both agreed on was that I had upset her in some way.

"I think you were making fun of the dancers and wouldn't shut up."
"I thought I was making fun of the people in the audience and wouldn't shut up."
"No, I got mad at you for that the time we went to..."

With that in mind it was my intention to make up for the past failings, and I think that for the most part I succeeded.

After the ballet we went back to my house, then later out to dinner. After spending the majority of the day together she decided it was time to go. I was quite happy as I walked her downstairs to her car. The day had gone better than I had thought it might, and I again felt a connection to a person who's had a major impression on my life.

As I closed the door to her car and watched her drive away I felt a slight hole in the pit of my stomach, a slight loneliness that I had forgotten I could have. Oh Yeah... That's why I don't hang out with her more often.

I paused for a moment to let the 10+ hours I had just spent with her sink in before finally turning to go back into my building.

My condo was an 11 floor elevator ride away, but I didn't end up making it home for quite some time...