Blog Twenty: Katie

Snaby Girl's youngest sister Katie is down for New Year's, which is always fun. The Small Girl disagrees, and has been insanely fussy again today.

My blog is beginning to get extremely boring, at least to my eyes; a dull recounting of current Rick events. My life isn't all that exciting, let's be honest; it's fun to ME, but to you I'm sure it's like reading the phone book. Of course, the only people who read this are about five family members. I have to start including more funny stories, incisive commentary, and such.

So today I would like to discuss Eric Hinske.

Eric Hinske plays for the Blue Jays. In 2002, he was the Rookie of the Year, having a terrific season. Prior to the 2003 season he apparently trained mostly on hamburgers and milkshakes, showing up for spring training even fatter than I am, and left his batting eye at home. In the three seasons hence he has been what analysts call a "replacement level" player, e.g. essentially equivalent to any number of players you could scrape up out of the minor leagues, or get for nothing from another team.

In other words, he sucks, and he sucks bad.

Hinske lost his job at third base in 2005, being shifted to first, as he can't really play third at all. Now he's lost that job, since the Jays have acquired a new first baseman, and just to emphasize it they also got another third baseman to play DH so Hinske really has no role left at all. Blue Jays fans have rejoiced, as this meant, presumably, that Hinske - or "Krispy Kreme" - would be riding the pine. (They can't trade him. Nobody would take him.)

So then yesterday the Jays' GM, J.P. Ricciardi, asked what Krispy Kreme would be doing in 2006, says he's going to move to left field.

Holy flurkin' schnitt. LEFT FIELD? Krispy Kreme has less range than I do. He'll be the worst hitting AND the worst fielding left fielder in the major leagues, easily. What in the name of Christ are they thinking?

HINSKE!

YOU SUCK!

YOOUUUUUU SUUUUUUUUUCK!

Blog Nineteen: Barrie

Today we headed up to Barrie to see Snaby Girl's extended family. I was sick at the beginning of the trip, Snaby was sick at the end. But the visit went great otherwise. Of course, the Small Girl was the star of the show.

I note that today the face of the young girl shot in the crossfire on Yonge St. was plastered across four columns on the front page of the Toronto Star. It's truly an outrage, but you know, I cannot help but notice that at least half a dozen innocent black people have been killed in crossfires of gang violence this year, too, and they didn't get their pictures on Page 1. I guess their lives are worth less or something. Boy, you could cut the institutional racism with a knife, huh?

New Year's is shaping up; we'll have myself, Snaby and Small Girl, plus TCB and Dorian, plus Switall!, plus Snaby Sister #2. We'll play Cranium and drink recreational refreshments. Sounds like a perfect evening to me.

My old high school bud Steve, who had a little girl this year as well and who's been E-maling with me sporadically, sent us a copy of "Charlie and the Chocolate Factory" to read to the Small Girl. What a nice surprise. We must buy them dinner.

Blog Eighteen: Christmas Rundown

What a Christmas.

The Cheatin' Bitch got engaged to Darwin, so congrats to both. He executed the proposal very artfully, I must say, and the ring is most impressive. Of course I knew about the impending event a week ago but couldn't blog about it in order to keep the secret. Finally, we've suckered someone into taking her off our hands, and we didn't even have to pay a huge dowry.

The Small Girl made out like a bandit, getting more Christmas presents than I could possibly remember; there was a new play gym, one of those things with the little balls, a banana doll thing, a piggy bank, and clothes, clothes, and more clothes. I got a framed map (I love maps) some camcorder accessories, the camcorder itself as a partial XMas gift, some clothes, books, games, a Warcraft atlas, gift certificates, etc. Snaby Girl also did very well, except for the frightening gift of a vibrator from Switall!. Switall! did give us a gift certificate for dinner theatre, though, which was very nice.

Terminology Note: I used to refer to Switall! as "Bridget Jones" but I'm going to stick with Switall! from now on.

Grandma had to be spirited away to emergency on Christmas night due to a medical crisis that was part a bad reaction to turkey and part hysteria; we saw "King Kong," which I must admit was even more awesome than I had hoped; and the Senators beat the Rangers on Dec. 26 and are now 25-9.

But in spite of the engagement and all that, the centre of attention ended up being, unsurprisingly, the Small Girl, who is, somehow, getting cuter. I've never seen Mom and Dad happier. I must post a picture:

Blog Seventeen: Christmas Saved

Well, some high level diplomacy got Christmas dinner restored. Sadly, TCB and Donald begged out due to scheduling difficulties, but no problem. We'll have six for dinner, plenty.

The DVDs are coming along nicely. Presents are bought and wrapped. Tree looks great. Wife is sexy and perfect. Baby is my little princess.

I was amused to listen to and watch the production around them naming the Canadian hockey squad for the Olympics. I don't recall them doing this before; I mean, it was like they were presenting the Academy Awards. Black tie event in GM place, and major controversies and such, such as the selection of Cheap Shot Bertuzzi. There was more coverage of this than of the election debates.

What's funny is that in all the brouhaha over picking Bertuzzi nobody noticed that they picked a lot of old guys who're over the hill. Rob Blake? Rob Blake isn't one of the 100 best Canadian hockey players, much less 20 best. He was great in 1998. Bertuzzi certainly is not as good as Eric Staal. Just weird, weird picks, apparently based on who's in with Wayne Gretzky's inner circle.

The consensus among sportswriters is "Well, they seemed to pick on loyalty instead of ability, but Canada's so deep they'll win anyway." It's funny how short memories are. We won in 2002. We didn't win in 1998, though, did we? Come the Olympics, I predict many people will be very sorry that the defensive corps has so many old farts in it.

Blog Sixteen: Christ, It's Christmas

So the Christmas plans have gone to hell and back thanks to a lack of, shall we say, a cooperative Christmas spirit. Snaby Girl's family promised to come down for dinner, then bailed last night - I had called them when they mentioned this, so God knows when they were planning to tell us, and I suspect had I not called they would not have bothered to tell us until the day of the event - and torpedoed the entire affair, for no good reason at all. (Basically, they don't feel like it.) This led to what now stands as a major rift in the maternal side of the family. We'll see. Fortunately, TCB and her boyfriend, who will be known by a succession of names beginning with D - so tonight he's David - are coming over to help consume the enormous turkey Snaby Girl's family chose to snub.

My recent activity has been composing DVDs of the Small Girl footage we've been shooting; given the right software, and I got a recommendation to some GREAT software, it's shockingly easy. Small Girl DVDs for all! Place your order now!

In other news, I got a call from a recruiting agency. The message they left simply said "Please call about your resume. Thanks." So I call them, while moving TCB and Doug's stuff, and this conversation ensues:

VOICE: AB Group.
ME: Yes, my name is Richard Jones. You left a message asking me to call.
VOICE: Ah yes, we would like to go over your resume. Are you available at 3 PM Thursday?
ME: Uh, I suppose.
VOICE: Yes, please be here at (address.) If you must cancel please give us 24 hours of notice.
(Long pause as I try to figure out what the hell is going on.)
ME: Who is us?
VOICE: Pardon?
ME: You said "please give us 24 hours of notice." Who're you?
VOICE: We're AB Group.
ME: ... Go on.
VOICE: Pardon?
ME: What is AB Group?
VOICE: We're a staffing firm. We would like you to come in to go over your resume.
ME: How did you get my resume?
VOICE: I don't know.
(Stunned silence)
ME: You don't know how you got my resume?
VOICE: I am just an administrative assistant. I make calls.
ME: Why do you want me to come in?
VOICE: Steven Whatshisname works with many companies in your field and would like to go over your resume. Are you currently employed?
(NOTE: The only place they could have gotten my resume is Workopolis. It says on my resume, very clearly, that I am employed.)
ME: (Distracted by traffic) I'll see you Thursday at 3.

Later I said the hell with it, and cancelled and said I'd rebook in the New Year.

Who calls someone and says "Please come in to meet with us" and doesn't say who they are??

Blog Fifteen: Pachyderm, Tarantula, Quixotic

Snaby Girl says it's good for the Small Girl's language development if we use a lot of different words; hence the title of this blog. Here is a Small Girl pic; I finally figured out how to do this.

I really should complete my time sheets but simply cannot be bothered right now. One of the little irritations of my job is they want the time sheets for a given week completed the following Monday, meaning in effect you must work on the weekend, which is pathetic and stupid. I also have no time tomorrow because I'm helping TCB move into her new place, which sounds more enjoyable than doing piddly admin work.



Isn't she sweet?

Busy week ahead; moving TCB's furniture tomorrow, some work stuff and taking the car into the garage on Tuesday, then work on Wednesday, last minute preps on Thursday, going into the office Friday, then Christmas dinner at home, then off to Brighton Saturday, then Kingston for awhile.

Phew.

I have nothing intelligent or pithy to say tonight. The blog ends now!

Blog Fourteen: Small Girl!

The Small Girl seems better today, despite a complete a total freakout at about 4:30. Now she's happy and playing with Snaby.

Once again, Christmas discipline has utterly broken down at the Jones household and half the presents are already open.

Switall is coming over again tonight with the Christmas gift we gave her yesterday; a Magic Bullet. You know, the little food blender thingy. I've never seen anyone so thrilled by a gift. Since Snaby Girl got a food processor, tonight is apparently The Night Of Processing and Blending Things, and much food will be created. Also, the Senators are going to beat the Leafs, so that'll be fun. TCB was invited over but is working.

Let me also point out that I hate the Maple Leafs. I hate the Maple Leafs with the fire and power of a thousand burning suns. I hate their idiotic misspelled name, and I hate their uniforms, and I hate their players, and I hate their coach. Most of all I hate their imbecilic, ignorant, stupid fans, arguably the most pig-ignorant fans in all of pro sports. (In case my boss is reading this; I don't mean you.) I have two favourite teams; the Senators, and whomever is playing the Maple Leafs. If the Maple Leafs were to play the rep team from Hell, coached by Satan, starring Hitler in goal and Ted Bundy as the first line centre, I'd wear red to the game.

My anger and hatred is much salved by the knowledge that the Maple Leafs will never win the Stanley Cup again. Ever. If they play professional hockey for ten million years more, still the Leafs will win no Cups. I laugh at them, and I laugh at their fans.

Blog Thirteen: Fourteen pounds!

Yep, Small Girl weighs in at 14 pounds at just two months. Quite a big baby. Not too chubby, just BIG. So I guess she's doing okay. This is an astonishing rate of weight gain; she is already five pounds heavier than her lowest point, which is measurably faster than normal. There is scientific evidence that rapid infant weight gain may be positively correlated with childhood obesity, though, so it's something to keep an eye on when she's older.

Alas, the poor girl had to have her first needles, though, and was fussy all day as a result.

Today was the English-language leader's debate; I watched about eight minutes of it, which was enough to make me sick. I'll either go with principle and vote Green Party, or hold my nose and vote Conservative for strategic reasons. Either way I won't be happy about it, but it's better than voting for thieves (Liberal) or fools (NDP.) I've never been so disenchanted with my options.

Really, I should stop whining and join a party and try to better it with my brilliant intellect. Which should I join - Green or Conservative? Perhaps I'll suggest another merger.

Hey, Carly; my Tauren character's name is "Torgning."

Blog Twelve: Yo, Switall!

Bridget Jones, a.k.a. Switall, has been over more lately, because she broke up her useless boyfriend, but also because she likes being with the Small Girl.

Bridget Jones recently did a Top Ten list in her blog, which was pretty funny, and I'll link to it just as soon as someone shows me how to put links to other blogs. However, I think we should all do Top Ten Lists, so I offer one I've done in another medium:

Top Ten Signs You've Gone to a Bad Veterinarian

10. He's wearing a "Trainee" badge

9. Big sign on the door: "No Pets"

8. There's a Shopsy's Meats truck parked in the loading dock

7. When you put your cocker spaniel on the examination table he recoils in shock and yells, "What the hell is that?"

6. He tests every shot on himself first

5. Waiting room is festooned with mounted poodle heads

4. The receptionist is a Doberman pinscher

3. All the waiting room magazines are back issues of "Hunting Weekly" and "Guns and Ammo"

2. Tells you, "I failed vet school, but I did stay at a Holiday Inn Express last night"

1. Two words: Chinese restaurant

Blog Eleven: Update from LAX

Well, I'm finally back into blogging. I've missed so much time and so much has happened that I'm not going to bother explaining anything and I'm just going to proceed as if I'd been blogging the whole time.

So I'm sitting in the first class lounge at LAX (Los Angeles International Airport, for you non-air-travellers.) A wonderful recent development is that Air Canada gave me a fancy card that lets me sit on the lounge whenever I fly. FREE BOOZE. Honestly - unlimited beer and liquor. There's even taps for you to pour free drafts. How this is legal I cannot imagine. Oh, and free Internet.

Naturally, I'd rather be home with Sharron and the Small Girl, but while I await my plane, may as well enjoy the creature comforts of being a frequent flyer. I also bought, for the first time ever, Christmas presents for the Small Girl. How wonderful.

I'd post Small Girl pictures but I don't have any good ones on this computer. Anyway, I've now more into Small Girl movies. But soon!