Poor little guy. He got his shots today.. Four big ones! The needles were bigger than his thighs. Boy did he ever scream. He did his trademark pouty lip after all was said and done. I never can seem to catch a pic of that tho. He’s quite the pro at it. The good news is he gained weight… The bad news is, he’s back on fulltime oxygen at 1/16 of a liter… A set back, yes, but we’re used to it. Three steps forward, two steps back.

Which brings me to a mini-rant… The damn oxygen company we use. They are the biggest bunch of idiots I’ve had the displeasure of meeting… I’m sure they are just overworked and underpaid (blah blah blah), but when you say you’ll be here between 4pm and 6pm, then you have two options: (1) Be here on time, or (2) call and let us know that you wont! What in the hell is so damn hard about being prompt these days? If I’m late to something I feel terrible about it, and I sure as hell call! I swear. All I can say, is where is this world going to, and what the fuck am I doing in a handbasket!?

Last bit of news is our little discovery of Hostess Chocodiles. If you don’t know about this little morsels, let me give you the 411… Quite simply they are Twinkies covered in chocolate… Uh, can you say YUM? I’ll pause for you to wipe the drool. The realllly terrible thing is they are quite a rare commodity — especially on the east coast. I’m here in AZ and we can hardly find them. We lucked out and found two of the damn things at the grocer! Scooped em up as quick as we could. Let me tell ya, they are MMMMMM good!

That’s the news, and I’m off to finish cleaning my garage! I gotta make room for a new bike, damn it! (Hey! It’s fun to dream!)

So, with things settling down a bit, we’ve turned out attention forward. The Dinosaur Nest is all but erased from our daily chores which has freed up a bit of time and mental power we can devote elsewhere. It was a difficult decision, but hindsight being 20/20 it feels and looks like the right decision.

We’re in the mode of planning out what vehicles to get for the days ahead. We need a vehicle that is better suited to a growing family. Also, something that has at least a touch of luxury (if only in the form of a quieter ride). Our cars would do fine, but I think we’re both pretty burnt out on them. I know I’m jonesing real bad for a motorcycle ride. I keep thinking that a nice ride up the mountain would do wonders for my sanity. Help to clear my head. I rode a buddy of mine’s cruiser the other day. It felt good to be back in the saddle. I have NO idea why I sold my bike. That was truly a STUPID thing to do. These days, however I have my sights on a sportbike. I think it’s time to trade in the leather jacket for a racing jacket. After much consideration I’ve decided as long as the bike is comfortable to ride, I will be buying a Suzuki GSX-R600. 600ccs on a sportbike should keep me plenty occupied for awhile I figure. It won’t be like the 650cc cruiser I had as my first bike… Can you say S-L-O-W?

Prof. Fussy Pants is doing well these days. He’s up to 7 lbs and 13 ozs! Still gaining about an ounce a day! Little porker! His stomach is quite the annoyance for him. I’m sure if he weren’t our son we’d be in jail for shaken baby syndrome! Ahh, but nature is a wonderful thing. No matter how frustrating it can get, if it’s your child you just can’t get mad. :) Life seems to be getting a bit better — slowly but surely.

Here’s a pic of the professor doing what he does best :)

And here’s a pic of my son and I watching TV before bed. :)

So, today was unusually busy at Spacely. We’re doing big moves with the leadership and it’s kept me busy all day long. One of the other guys even pulled some OT to help me out which was a huge help! Which, brings me to a funny thing that happened to me during my course of work.

One of the tasks bestowed upon me was to move Macintosh machines from one end of the office to the other. These are community machines which are shared by all the pod people. As such, they are sitting on elevated surfaces in the aisles and connected to the network and power via extra ports underneath the nearest pod. So, to accomplish my task I have to crawl under these pods and yank the wires and pack up the machine and migrate it.

Well, the pods are not vacant. There are various creatures occupying the cube farm at any hour of the day. Today I found myself under such an occupied pod trying to unwire everything and detangle the spaghetti soup that is inevitable. So, I’m all situated, laying there underneath the pod next to someone’s feet. When what do I hear? “FFFththtpfppbpb!” Unmistakably the sound of escaping methane. I didn’t know what to think. Here I am, under this pod feeling like I’d been spelunking a new cave system and my canary just died. The terror… The horror!! The SMELL! All I can think is to escape my corporate tomb as fast as possible. Then it hits me. Like a Mack truck being driven over me by Pepe Le’ Pu! I’m about to shoot up out of this hell on earth when my conscience takes over… etiquette takes over and I find myself laying there suffocating. Wondering what the best course of action would be:

1. I have my punch down tool… So, I could effectively stamp a nice pattern into Ms. Musical Anus’ foot. But, that would be mean… Not to mention messy.

2. I could make overly obvious gagging sounds and writhe as if I’m a fish out of water. While not as messy, it would still be rude…

3. Hold my breath. Finish the job. Exit politely.

My mom raised me right, so I chose #3. I found my assailant to be beat red when I emerged from my near fatal brush with funk. So, we exchanged glances. Me feeling like I’ve been beat down by a big smelly woolly mammoth. Her, I imagine, feeling a bit like she just accidentally shot her dog. I just smiled, coiled up my recovered wire, and went to find shelter…

I tell you, there’s something about feces and funk at Spacely that is just way too much for coincidence. I shouldn’t have as many stories like this as I do. I won’t go into Mike’s bruised back and tail bone thanks to a misplaced nugget of filth. Or the random story I heard about one of the worker’s much too late trip to the restroom — caution tape and hazard suits were soon to follow. Well, maybe not hazard suits, but it sounded like it was damn near warranted.

Ahh fun times… :)

In other news, I’m an unspeakable weakling. I smoked at a party on Thursday. :( So, I’m off the wagon AGAIN!!! Never give up, never surrender!! I’ll be back on the wagon soon — ever determined.

Rhys is doing great. He’s still quite fussy, but things are getting better. He’s gaining about 1 oz every day. So that’s really good. Last weigh in found him at 7 lbs and 3 ozs! He’s earning the nickname Hambone… Or Pork Chop… Or Chubbles… :)

Oh! I almost forgot! I finally killed that damn wasp!!! Little bastard.

Lastly, here’s a pic of him discovering what it feels like to wear a hat. Mom’s getting a kick out of dressing him up… Poor kid. I don’t think he knew what to make of the whole hat thing. :)