I constantly smell smoke when no one is smoking

Of all the stupid problems someone could have, this is the one I get stuck with.

For the past few weeks, I have been smelling cigarette smoke regardless of where I am, or what time of day it is. To add to the problem, my eyes sting as if I were sitting in a dark corner bar filled with smokers while drowning my sorrows in a tall Jack and Beer chaser, only without the ambiance.
This sucks, because I used to smoke.
I quit because, among other things, It stunk. NOW I can't get away from it.
And I have to suffer without the benefit of the smooth, relaxing calm that comes from a long draw on a short red. Nope...just the stink, like an old ashtray left is the rain.
Like my car USED to smell like.

Here's the kicker, when I say constant...I mean constant. Usually, a person gets accustomed to a particular smell, given prolonged exposure to it. But this is maddening.
It's ever present, like Chinese water torture, it won't go away.
So, after I decided I was going nuts, I Googled the problem on the off chance one other person had the same stupid problem.

Boy...I am not alone.
Go ahead, Google "smell smoke when no one is smoking..." and read up on the matter.

Seems like there's a lot of me...plenty of symptoms...no cures. No advice.
Woo hoo.

Something about Mary

Every proud father brags, I'm no exception. But after three kids, a lot of things that once seemed ultra important and all consuming seem to fall by the wayside ever so much.
When Luke was born, I videotaped or photographed every second of his life, it seemed.
The same with Bridget, since she was daddies little girl. Then came Mary.
Poor Mary, I feel like she's getting Jipped. Of course, much of my time has been spent pounding together Luke's new 'Greg Brady' bachelor pad and basement bathroom, not to mention my full time job as Captain Everything.
Something tells me that once I'm done milking this project as an excuse to buy more tools, I'll be back to playing jr. paparazzi.
In the meantime, Here's Mary Catherine.

Mary "Buzz" Catherine

Going home, now and then

This entry was to be posted in '06 but got "lost"...silly me.
They say you can't go home again. I agree. For one it would be a pain in the ass for me to try, seeing as how "home" for the most part was always a choice between here or there. If anything, I had "homes"...a second floor above my grandparents, a few roach infested dumps with mom, an apartment with dad, then a house for the school years, another with my mom for the summers...on and on it went. I have revisited those years with limited interest in the past, mainly because I don't notice the years slipping away. I always assume there will be time to sift thru those memories later, then life happens to get in the way a little here and there...suddenly the occasional fading picture found at the bottom of a shoebox brings back a flood of strange memories or feelings. Of all the years I recall with any regularity, my high school years are the most confusing to me. A few weeks ago many of the people I graduated with got together and celebrated 20 years since we all parted ways. I kicked around the idea of going a bit, but in the end decided against it for one simple reason. I don't know those people anymore.
In fact, I never knew those people.
I shared 6 full years with them in all, from my first awkward moments coming to a new suburb and school in 7th grade, to the day I grabbed my barely earned diploma and ran for daylight with the urgency of a diver surfacing for air. I ran from that school, and those people, from that history and those memories, from that house and that suburb and all of it. I was a square peg from day one, no matter how well I faked it and "fit in", be it in some artsy clique or team...I didn't belong.
A few days ago I drove through that old neighborhood and down near my old school. It was nice to see certain things have not changed, like our old house. It looks as if we just left, with the exception of some lace curtains in my old basement bedroom window. It was also nice to see that some things had changed, entirely. What absolutely did not change was that stale,chilling feel of being a perpetual visitor. Every moment I spent in Elmhurst felt as if I were watching the world through a pane of glass. I could get close, but close was close enough, then I would catch my own reflection staring back. I was by no means depressed living in Elmhurst, although compared to how my life turned for the better afterwards it's safe to say they werent the best years of my life. They were the growing up years, the ones where it's hard to fit in your own skin, let alone a(nother) new location. And afterall, I did make at least a few good friends. One of the few people in my life I ever met that not only "got" my warped sense of humor (my defense mechanism against all that raging teen angst) but bolstered it with his own brand of insanity. I met him the same way most people meet each other...shortly after he punched me, squarely in the nose.

It was an accident,of course. Jim Fucciolo, or "Fuch" (careful now, it's pronounced FOOOOOSH)is Italian, and by virtue of his heritage must speak only whilst flailing his arms about in wild animated fashion. This serves two distinct purposes. One, it gives a visual punctuation to accompany the story being told ... and secondly, it effectivly lays out flat any attempt to sabotage said speaker from a sneak attack from behind.
I honestly don't remember what I was doing walking up behind him, but I do remember the momentary flash of knuckles shortly before hearing..."OOOH...oh..uh...you ok?"
As luck would have it, Jim not only had a wicked backhand, but was a master at stopping nosebleeds thanks to having been tormented by them most of his life.
Our friendship grew quickly, and before long we commandeered out little corner of the school. The jocks had the football field, the brains had the Library...we...owned Art Staff... holding hostage it's residents as our captive audience for about an hour or so a day. We both had our talents, not the least of which was driving our otherwise unflappable teacher insane. He and his battle worn Jeep got us to and from school, and the occasional trip to the mall and everywhere else for that matter.
We suffered through psychotic G-I Joe looking gymnastic coaches and one or two insane girlfriends (one in particular,who,after telling me she wanted to date other guys, dropped Jim's name as candidate number 1. Jim replied by laughing, stating that nobody in thier right mind would date her...and then added..."except for you...of course...!") My dad got a kick out of him and his Jeep with the rusted snowplow, it's shovel complete with huge snarling teeth and blood red tongue.
Jim had lost his own dad early in his life. I remember trying and never quite being able to understand what that felt like...to lose someone that close. At the time, I had both parents in reasonably good health. The closest relatives that had passed in my life had done so when I was too young to comprehend. Jim kept memento's of his father, a luger and some other firearms. One thing he kept in particular I remember quite well. A flag, folded in a triangle honoring his dads military service. Now that I have one for my own dad, I can understand how deep that loss is, but only from an adult perspective.

Hanging with him was good for my soul, I have come to realize. He was a good friend, and for all intents and "porposes" (just for the halibut)my best friend in high school.
I had all those memories in my head when I finally decided it was time to find him again. It was about 15-ish years since we last spoke. A lot has happened in that time. I got married, had 2 kids, bought and sold a house or two, and lost both parents and grandparents. I wondered what those years did for him. I hoped he was married with kids, and that his mom was ok, that he made millions inventing some useless info-mercial trash.
I found Jim's family with a little Googling and some luck. I sent a greeting, crossed my fingers, and a few days later, got a reply. His new wife sent a note saying I had found him...and gave a number.
I felt like a kid again...

Babies, Scooters Cubbies and Birthday's

Four little blogs for the price of one!

Mary
Mary slept thru the nigh last night for the first time. She's an eating machine...and has gained weight at a perfect rate. She's awesome, hardly cries,farts like a longshoreman snuggles up under my chin after she eats. Thats a feeling that can't be described. She's our last, most likely, and I hope I remeber that warmth forever.

ZUUUUMA...!
In an attempt to cut the insane fuel prices a tad, I wen't ahead and got a scooter!
YES thats right, I'm THAT guy. You know the one, thinks he's saving the earth by dressing up like a giant pez dispenser and flying down the road at a blistering 40mph (downhill in a stiff breeze)
Yep, indeed. Hell, and 125+ MPG, I'll wear a pink friggin tu-tu if it saves me a buck.
Even if the price of gas drops, I've got a pretty cool little street legal bike to play with. It seats two, but aside from swinging Luke to baseball/soccer practice or flying (ok scooting) around town, We won't be buying any junior size motorcycle leathers just yet.
I do have a great idea for a license plate tho... HRDLEY
Get it?
Anyway...
How 'bout THEM CUBS!!!
As of right now, they have the best record in ALL of baseball, are on a 6 game win streak, and played a miracle com-from-behind game to beat the Rockies 10-9 after being down 9-1 in the 6th.
I will not be jinxing them with any talk of how this season will end. I will however say that they are running like maniacs, hitting the ball everywhere and playing as a true team.
FU-KU-DO-ME! I say...
And I mean it!
The Big 4-0
I turned 40 last week.
And, as forrest Gump would say, Is all I have to say about that.

More to come, stay tuned.

HERES MARY!!!!

Dear Mary,
Sorry about all the noise and bright lights, but things move pretty quick on the outside. Don't worry, you have a big brother to protect you and a big sister to help you to deal with big brother!
Even though you aren't home just yet, I'm doing everything I can to get it ready for you! (Just don't look in the basement for a few years, k?)
A few things you should know before we get get to far.
1. You are a Cubs fan. It's not a choice. If you want, that can change at 18, but until then you will just have to suffer with the rest of us. Bonus, it builds character. Lots.
2. Despite what the other 2 short people in this house say, YOU ARE NOT A VEGETARIAN.
I expect one...at least ONE of my kids to eat meat. Since you are the last in line, that you. Lucky you, I make a great BBQ.
3. You are loved!
From here on out... you will be included in, and sometimes excluded from, play time with your siblings. You will laugh with them, and be laughed at. Some days you will feel important, and some days you may feel left out. Some days this world will seem really, really big. And some days, it may seem way too small. Some days are good, and some are bad.
Thats just how it goes. We get both, but through it all, and no matter what, you are surrounded by a blanket of people who love you with everything they have. Thats how families work.
(Especially on the bad days.)
God bless you little one, welcome to the family!
Love, Mom and Dad and bro and sis.

Public enemy number one

Buy American?
Save the planet? Go "green?" Do your part?

Enough talk already.
I am sick to death of empty "politically correct" catch phrases spewed forth readily yet never acted upon. I'm tired of these eco friendly bandwagon jumping nitwits who buy a hybrid Honda civic for it's gas saving ability, then slap an American flag bumper sticker on it's egg shaped ass and park it in the nearest Wal-Mart lot to "save" a few bucks. Heres a perfect example of what EXACTLY is being saved.

Website: www.walmartstores.com

A facelift and even lower prices kept the world's largest retailer afloat in a troubled economy.
Staring down the barrel of brutal fourth-quarter retail forecasts, CEO Lee Scott dramatically cut prices on 15,000 items - including popular toys and electronics - by 20% more than usual to lure holiday shoppers. That rocked the industry, pressuring other retailers to squeeze already tight margins.

The tactic worked: Wal-Mart grossed $100 billion, breaking its fourth-quarter sales record, and soundly beat Target in same-store holiday sales for the first time in nearly a decade. --Christopher Tkaczyk and David Goldman

Way to go Wall mart. Not only have you screwed the economy by forcing the bar lower, you grossed huge profits while maintaining low wages for your employees and even lower standards of living for the nearly ONE MILLION EMPLOYEES you screw, half of which CANNOT AFFORD the crap health insurance you provide.

Next time you want to be environmentally conscious, consider where you shop and what you buy BEFORE you begin looking at the waste it creates.
Saving this "planet" might start at saving this Country, and THAT might begin at the parking lot rather than the garbage can.

Or, consider this...that foreign car you bought that was "assembled" in America? Of the 30k you spent, 98 percent goes back to Japan, Korea, etc. as profits. THAT in turn is spent where? Not here.
If you were asked to send part of your paycheck to better the Japanese economy, would you?
Hmmm

Close, but no cigar

...bubblegum or otherwise.

Jill's ultrasound was "normal" and the lack of proper fluid during the last result was because baby Mary didn't pee yet.

Yeah. I know.


Anyway...
We're still a go for the 29th...barring any unusual events.

Unusual as in, more than a lack of enough baby pee.

Bleh.

Early Arrival?

When Jill and I went for Luke's final ultrasound eight years ago, the doctor told us his birthday would be that day, based on what little room was left for him and his big melon.
We were prepared, the baby's room was complete...the crib assembled, and we had been impatiently awaiting that moment when we would finally meet him.

Now we are doing the same thing for Mary with one teensy little baby difference.

WERE NOWHERE NEAR READY!

The basement looks more like a Katrina victim than a boys bedroom, the house is a disaster, and we have barely begun to organize baby stuff.

We have two weeks, right?
No sweat?

Not so fast. Mary is about ready for show-time...and if Mondays ultrasound shows no improvement in her current living space...well...
Lets say telling Luke to clean his room will include putting up drywall and painting the bathroom.

Wish us luck!

13 hours

I'm in pain.

Everything hurts, my hands especially.

I've been at the basement for 13 hours straight, breaking only to run to home depot for lumber, and Mike's to pick up a Hilti.

Then back at it.

And what have I accomplished?
Well, to look at it, not much, but I know better.
Marty wants 2x 6's instead of 2x4's, hes got 'em. Fire the footings into the ground with a power gun instead of screw anchors? Done.
The house smells like gun powder and pine. Like some crazy shootout took place in a forest, and when the smoke cleared, a bathroom got framed out.

I wish it were that easy. But I'm running out of time, I'm always running out of time. Tonight especially.

My hands hurt, they ache like a toothache aches. Arthritis, probably. Or some other pain in the ass-in the hands.

I don't care, not yet. That comes after I'm done working...

And theres always work to be done.

Time for a shower and 8 hours of sleep...
If I'm lucky I'll get 4.

CUBS WIN!

First win of the season, and no I won't be posting every one, but the first is worth it.

Luke's first baseball practice was mostly today, aside from sleet and fridgid rain, all went well.

OH did I mention, his team is the WHITE SOX?
NO?
I DIDNT?

Hm..
go figure.

FUK-U-DO-ME

How awesome is it that the guy who got the first hit in Wrigley for the Cubs this season, and then the first HOME RUN has a name that most drunk guys can, and often do, pronounce in the bleachers.

Here's to you, Kosuke Fuka..Fukodu...
Here's to you Japanese Cub player guy!

Just thank god Harry's not around for THAT name!

Some random thoughts

I have been meaning to sit down and really go on about the Cubs, being that spring training is coming to an end, regardless of weather or not SPRING will actuall ever get here or not, but I just have had so little time to even think, let alone type, that the best I could manage is this cumbersome, yet engaging, run on sentence.
So, some random thoughts.

1. Jeff, please don't go off the deep end! not after all the time I spent trying to find you. You are seriously tripping me out. Call me, we should talk.
2. Construction (destruction) inside the place you call home sucks nuts.
The further I get with the basement, the behinder I feel.
Behinder. Its a word, look it up.
3. I dont usually like to swear in my blogs because A) vulgarities are a sign of low brow humor and B) My sister is the only one I know who actually ever reads this and I don't feel right about swearing but in this case I simply can't help it...
FUCK SNOW.

4.I honestly can't take any more winter. I have been able to keep "the blues" at bay, but only barely and only because I've been too busy to be depressed, but Jebus this spring needs to get here post haste or I'm going to start calling Tom Skilling at his house at 3am and complain.That'll fix his wagon.

5. People, by and large, are ok...but society sucks.
I base this solely on the number of nitwit drivers I see on the roads.
Perhaps I'm just gettin older.
No...they suck. Those...people. Driver people.
Meh.

6. MEH is not a word, it is a sentence.

7. If the definition of integrity is doing the right thing when no one is looking, then the 20 something pinheads I work with have none. The amount of apathy lately among "kids" scares me. It's we went from Gen X to Gen Y to Gen y- me to now GEN-who cares.
Sad.
8. I think wanting your country to better itself on a continuous basis is the definition of patriotism. Which is why I consider myself a patriot when I say that this country is Fu@#ed. From the dimwit running the show to the fact that less than 18% of the world population has a favorable opinion of the USA (DOWN FROM 60% AND UP PRE 911/PRE IRAQ....YIPES)We need to lead the charge in world COMMUNICATION and UNITY.
But hey, you cant outsource patriotism, so I guess it isn't cost effective.
9. Love beats death.
and finally
10. I don't care who gets in the White house at this point, Im just looking forward to being lied to by someone who can construct a sentence without having to take his shoes off to count.

Overwhelmed, Over my head...

Over and out...

I am surrounded, knee deep in alligators and completely out of my element.
It will pass, with time and hard work but for right now the light at the end of my "project tunnel" is nary a flicker.

I have completely destroyed our basement and begun to frame out Luke's new bedroom.
With a kick in the pants by Mike and a few good tips, I think I have a great start...if only I could keep the momentum going. Thats where outside elements beyond my control come in a f@#$ everything up.
Let's start with this miserable winter. Enough already. Snow, freeze, thaw,snow some more, freeze again, then more snow...
I can't keep up and let's not talk about my not having a snowblower that works.

I've resorted to using bad aerosols and burning oil drums full of gas just to advance global warming that much more. Every little bit helps, they say.

When I'm not shoveling (or looking for the shovel) or chipping ice from the driveway...the 100 foot long BRICK driveway...ahem...
I'm working my real job. (Saving the world, being awesome...that sort of thing. As Christian says, being fantastic is a full time Job. And why exactly am I quoting people from Project Runway? Oh right...it's the only show we watch anymore. Another reason why we don't own a plasma.)
So as a result I have big plans and bigger gaps between times when I can get any real work done.
Time is running out, I need this finished, the bathroom in and the kids rooms done by the end of May.

BWAAAHAAHAHAHAHA!!!!!

I can't wait to meet you Mary, but don't be surprised if we take lot's of naps together...
for the first couple of years, anyway.

-Pop