Well, lazy as usual with the blog-posting. I guess I can at least get every month or so, though. Anyway, Asim continues to do well and continues to put on weight. This is significant because he started out pretty big, so now he's like, up to 13 lbs or something. And it's noticeable. But it's all good since my arms are getting stronger. My legs are also getting stronger because I have to occasionally haul him up and down in the car seat along with whatever else we can find.
Anyway, Maria is also doing well. She's still not doing any heavy lifting, but the healing is going well. There's no more daily pain, but some things are a bit tricky. Asim has, as you may imagine, a rather erratic schedule. Sometimes it'll be 4 hours between feedings, sometimes an hour. Sometimes this happens in the middle of the day, most often not.
Speaking of which, I am avoiding the sleep deprivation by ... sleeping in the other room during the week -- I am getting up at all hours through the weekend with them, though. The reason for my need for sleep is my new work schedule -- I am commuting almost two hours each way three days a week. The other two I'm staying around Indy. But driving two hours on a lonely interstate -- out toward Terre Haute -- isn't exactly safet on half an hour of sleep.
Unfortunately, that work situation won't change for several months. Fortunately, I'm being compensated for some of the mileage and time, so I can't complain. The work is really good, too. It's still along the lines of what I was doing before in the food and pharma industry.
While I am at home with Asim and Maria, I do get a chance to feed him, clothe him and change him (at least once, sometimes twice.) And no, I don't have a problem with it. It is what it is. At the very least, I know he's going to feel great once he's got a fresh pair under his bum.
As far as his personality, it's still coming along. He's started smiling, which is absolutely fantastic. And yes, I'm ignoring the fact that he smiles (up until two months) because he's got gas. Whatever. I'll take those great little smiles. They're a bit hard to capture on digital film, though. But we're working on it. You see, the light in the apartment is dodgy, and by the time I get home it's dark. The weekends are also tricky cause the light outside is great but it's too frickin' cold. Grr.
Wednesday, November 8
Tuesday, October 17
Hello, Asim!
Well, Asim is now about 12 days old. He was born at 5:39 on October 5th. According to the census bureau (or someone), Oct. 5th is the day that more Americans are born on. May 22nd is the one with the fewest birthdays. So he's got that going for him, which is pretty interesting. I'm guessing this has something to do with New Year's parties, but it's hard to tell.
Anyway, Maria was in labor for about 19 hours when we decided that a c-section was the way to go. Asim was a big baby, too. About nine and a half pounds. They all said he was big, anyway. I didn't really know what that meant until I saw him in the nursery with the other kids. The way someone at work put it to me -- "yeah, he's two pounds more than the regular kid." Two pounds. That's a lot when you're only nine.
My parents came about two days before Asim was born, so they didn't have to wait too long for his arrival. Since the c-section thing happened, I wasn't answering the phone after about 3 p.m. that day. They called a few times, got concerned and headed on over. By the time they came, Asim was already with us.
A word about the c-section. Many people have asked me if I was in the room when it happened. Yes, of course I was. Did I see them make the cut? No. Did I see them pull him out? Oh yes. And I watched a bit afterward, when they were stitching Maria up. But very, very surprisingly, none of this fazed me. One bit. Granted, I did pound a Diet Coke right before going in, but I wasn't even close to passing out.
The epidural, however, nearly got me. And I didn't see anything. Nothing. Not the needle, not the tube, not the prick, nothing.
Anyway, Maria was in labor for about 19 hours when we decided that a c-section was the way to go. Asim was a big baby, too. About nine and a half pounds. They all said he was big, anyway. I didn't really know what that meant until I saw him in the nursery with the other kids. The way someone at work put it to me -- "yeah, he's two pounds more than the regular kid." Two pounds. That's a lot when you're only nine.
My parents came about two days before Asim was born, so they didn't have to wait too long for his arrival. Since the c-section thing happened, I wasn't answering the phone after about 3 p.m. that day. They called a few times, got concerned and headed on over. By the time they came, Asim was already with us.
A word about the c-section. Many people have asked me if I was in the room when it happened. Yes, of course I was. Did I see them make the cut? No. Did I see them pull him out? Oh yes. And I watched a bit afterward, when they were stitching Maria up. But very, very surprisingly, none of this fazed me. One bit. Granted, I did pound a Diet Coke right before going in, but I wasn't even close to passing out.
The epidural, however, nearly got me. And I didn't see anything. Nothing. Not the needle, not the tube, not the prick, nothing.
Tuesday, September 26
Getting somewhere
Alright, more than a month since the last post. Good for me, I say.
Anyway, much is happening, as you can imagine. For one, our baby is due on Oct. 2. I certainly hopes he chooses October as his birth month, and it's purely for financial reasons. I know, I'm a horrible parent already, and there's not even a baby to hold. Anyway, since I left my old company, or rather, since they booted me out, we've been doing the Cobra thing. That basically extends whatever healthcare you had, but makes you pay for all of it. You see, although I have a nice job now, I'm still just a contractor. Soon I shall be hired. Not soon enough. But soon.
With that said, the healthcare plan is actually changing on Oct. 1. Thus, if Asim is here before that, we'll have to pay about two grand, which is the highest out-of-pocket. Not that big of a deal, especially considering that I saw this as a possibility and starting saving for it. However, if he's here on or after the first, the new PPO will pay for all of it. Glorious!
What else is going on. Ah yes, Ramadan has begun. Today is day 4, which I'm pretty happy about. We started this past Saturday -- I should say that I started; Maria is not fasting. Asim may be for all we know, but that seems unlikely. Right. So day one was very rough, what with having to watch all that football without a hint of nachos. And the caffeine headache. Worst cure for that? Drinking caffeine at like, 10 p.m. and expecting to go to bed before 3 a.m. And then having to wake up at 5:45 a.m. to binge again.
Ah, yes, the bingeing. Let's discuss that. So you would think that, without being able to eat all day, eating lots in the morning would be a delightful prospect. It's not. I'm a cereal and eggs-only-socially guy, so after a bowl of granola, a bowl of Cheerios and some water, I'm done. If there's some cold pizza, I can handle that. But no dinner foods. No meat before noon.
The stoppage of the morning binge is about 6:21. The opening of the fast is at sunset, right around 7:40 these days. Not too bad. Ramadan is based on a lunar calendar, so it "moves" up every year. That is, next year it'll start a little earlier in September. How long does it take to go around? Well, Maria was born during Ramadan, on Sept. 4, 1977. So, what, about 28-29 years?
The "worst" will be in a few years when Ramadan is over the summer. Long, hot days, no water. The best, of course, has been recently, with shorter days and longer nights.
So you probably want to know about preparations for the baby. Yes, about those. Well, we've taken three separate classes through our hospital. A four-course Child Birthing class, a morning Breastfeeding class, and one just for new dads, Daddy Boot Camp.
The boot camp class was taken most recently, so I had a pretty good base already built up. Others in the class -- it was restricted to men only -- were evidently forced there by their wives. The highlight came with this exchange:
Guy: So, like, they have to feed every two hours during the first week?
Instructor: Yeah, pretty much.
Guy: And um, that's even through the night?
Instructor: Yeah.
Guy: Oh that sucks.
Hilarious. A lot of the class was devoted to improving your usefulness around the house and making sure the relationship you had with your wife before is the same after.
As far as around our place, we've got the crib all set up finally, the stroller put together, the diaper genie on standby, the closet jammed with cute little outfits. And yes, I did buy Asim a Steelers jumper. I mean, what else is he going to wear while watching the Steelers on tv and me on the sofa with nachos?
We've also taken to reading to him every once in a while before going to bed. Yes, I know. He's still in the womb. But whatever. He's getting used to the sound of my voice, I'm checking out the rather strange storylines in the books, and Maria is laughing at my snide comments. The latest book we got is a collection of Winnie the Pooh stories, so that should make for more interesting storytelling. Actually, I should probably start reading form the History of Pitt book that I have. Never too early to start the brainwashing.
Well, hopefully there'll be great news posted soon, along with plenty of photos.
Anyway, much is happening, as you can imagine. For one, our baby is due on Oct. 2. I certainly hopes he chooses October as his birth month, and it's purely for financial reasons. I know, I'm a horrible parent already, and there's not even a baby to hold. Anyway, since I left my old company, or rather, since they booted me out, we've been doing the Cobra thing. That basically extends whatever healthcare you had, but makes you pay for all of it. You see, although I have a nice job now, I'm still just a contractor. Soon I shall be hired. Not soon enough. But soon.
With that said, the healthcare plan is actually changing on Oct. 1. Thus, if Asim is here before that, we'll have to pay about two grand, which is the highest out-of-pocket. Not that big of a deal, especially considering that I saw this as a possibility and starting saving for it. However, if he's here on or after the first, the new PPO will pay for all of it. Glorious!
What else is going on. Ah yes, Ramadan has begun. Today is day 4, which I'm pretty happy about. We started this past Saturday -- I should say that I started; Maria is not fasting. Asim may be for all we know, but that seems unlikely. Right. So day one was very rough, what with having to watch all that football without a hint of nachos. And the caffeine headache. Worst cure for that? Drinking caffeine at like, 10 p.m. and expecting to go to bed before 3 a.m. And then having to wake up at 5:45 a.m. to binge again.
Ah, yes, the bingeing. Let's discuss that. So you would think that, without being able to eat all day, eating lots in the morning would be a delightful prospect. It's not. I'm a cereal and eggs-only-socially guy, so after a bowl of granola, a bowl of Cheerios and some water, I'm done. If there's some cold pizza, I can handle that. But no dinner foods. No meat before noon.
The stoppage of the morning binge is about 6:21. The opening of the fast is at sunset, right around 7:40 these days. Not too bad. Ramadan is based on a lunar calendar, so it "moves" up every year. That is, next year it'll start a little earlier in September. How long does it take to go around? Well, Maria was born during Ramadan, on Sept. 4, 1977. So, what, about 28-29 years?
The "worst" will be in a few years when Ramadan is over the summer. Long, hot days, no water. The best, of course, has been recently, with shorter days and longer nights.
So you probably want to know about preparations for the baby. Yes, about those. Well, we've taken three separate classes through our hospital. A four-course Child Birthing class, a morning Breastfeeding class, and one just for new dads, Daddy Boot Camp.
The boot camp class was taken most recently, so I had a pretty good base already built up. Others in the class -- it was restricted to men only -- were evidently forced there by their wives. The highlight came with this exchange:
Guy: So, like, they have to feed every two hours during the first week?
Instructor: Yeah, pretty much.
Guy: And um, that's even through the night?
Instructor: Yeah.
Guy: Oh that sucks.
Hilarious. A lot of the class was devoted to improving your usefulness around the house and making sure the relationship you had with your wife before is the same after.
As far as around our place, we've got the crib all set up finally, the stroller put together, the diaper genie on standby, the closet jammed with cute little outfits. And yes, I did buy Asim a Steelers jumper. I mean, what else is he going to wear while watching the Steelers on tv and me on the sofa with nachos?
We've also taken to reading to him every once in a while before going to bed. Yes, I know. He's still in the womb. But whatever. He's getting used to the sound of my voice, I'm checking out the rather strange storylines in the books, and Maria is laughing at my snide comments. The latest book we got is a collection of Winnie the Pooh stories, so that should make for more interesting storytelling. Actually, I should probably start reading form the History of Pitt book that I have. Never too early to start the brainwashing.
Well, hopefully there'll be great news posted soon, along with plenty of photos.
Monday, August 14
Yelling in the theatre
So over the weekend, Maria and I went to go see a Bollywood movie. Specifically, this one. By the way, if you want to read a horrid review of the movie, that's it. I've never seen a reviewer in need of so much chapstick.
I think this movie only opened in maybe less than 20 theatres across the nation. This is rather typcial. We wanted to see it Friday night, but it was sold out. They opened it at the Imax. We were relegated to a regular theatre, but it was completely packed with anxious brown people. And their kids. Now, here's the thing. This wasn't exactly a kid's movie. It could have had almost an R rating. And it certainly didn't seem appropriate to bring say, your six-year-old. But whatever.
People in the theatre started applauding when the film started -- impressively on time. I said to Maria that nobody who was involved in making the film is here, so what the hell is the point of applauding?
Anyway, after intermission -- oh, you didn't know Bollywood movies have intermissions? Yeah, well, when you don't leave anything on the cutting room floor and the film goes to 192 minutes, there's an intermission. Anyway, they play previews after the intermission before the second half starts. That's right. Previews. At one point, the screen wasn't lined up right. That is, a black line cut through the middle of the screen. Top half on the bottom, bottom on top. The movie started. There were some noisy murmurs because the picture was still messed up. I was getting annoyed. ($10 tickets will do that). So, I finally boiled over, turned around and yelled, "Hey asshole! Fix the picture!" Of course, the second that I turned around, the picture was fixed, so the yelling turned out to be just for entertainment purposes.
Saturday was somewhat busy; Sunday quite relaxed. Saturday evening we tried the Mongolian Barbecue, which was a fun experience. You basically pick your meats and vegetables, present them to a cook, and he tosses them on a giant wok and grills them right there.
I think this movie only opened in maybe less than 20 theatres across the nation. This is rather typcial. We wanted to see it Friday night, but it was sold out. They opened it at the Imax. We were relegated to a regular theatre, but it was completely packed with anxious brown people. And their kids. Now, here's the thing. This wasn't exactly a kid's movie. It could have had almost an R rating. And it certainly didn't seem appropriate to bring say, your six-year-old. But whatever.
People in the theatre started applauding when the film started -- impressively on time. I said to Maria that nobody who was involved in making the film is here, so what the hell is the point of applauding?
Anyway, after intermission -- oh, you didn't know Bollywood movies have intermissions? Yeah, well, when you don't leave anything on the cutting room floor and the film goes to 192 minutes, there's an intermission. Anyway, they play previews after the intermission before the second half starts. That's right. Previews. At one point, the screen wasn't lined up right. That is, a black line cut through the middle of the screen. Top half on the bottom, bottom on top. The movie started. There were some noisy murmurs because the picture was still messed up. I was getting annoyed. ($10 tickets will do that). So, I finally boiled over, turned around and yelled, "Hey asshole! Fix the picture!" Of course, the second that I turned around, the picture was fixed, so the yelling turned out to be just for entertainment purposes.
Saturday was somewhat busy; Sunday quite relaxed. Saturday evening we tried the Mongolian Barbecue, which was a fun experience. You basically pick your meats and vegetables, present them to a cook, and he tosses them on a giant wok and grills them right there.
Tuesday, July 25
A little bit stronger
So I learned a very valuable lesson on Sunday morning. That is, I don't really have a firm grasp on the concept of "swimming." I know how, in theory, to swim. And I can swim a few strokes -- for a few meters. But when it comes to 1500 meters -- or close to a mile -- things get very difficult.
My friend Ila and I decided back in January to do the New Jersey State Triathlon. We also decided that the sprint distance was "too short." So we elected the Olympic distance -- one-mile swim, 26-mile bike ride, 6.2-mile run. The biking I can do and the running I could handle. The swimming I thought I could do. I practiced swimming maybe twice during the past seven months. Clearly a mistake.
Maria and I drove from Indy to Lancaster on Friday, and on Saturday I drove myself to Philly to register and stay over at Ila and Amor's place. She and I woke up at 4 a.m. and headed over to the start at Mercer County Park in Jersey -- which is beautiful, by the way. I should have known that I was in for a near-drowning experience when we parked the car, and the people next to us asked us what distance we were doing. We replied with "Olympic," and they said, "Oh, you must be good swimmers."
That's just great.
There are two distances and two events per distance -- sprint and Olympic, individual and relay.
We headed over to the transition area and prepared our stuff. More crappiness ensued when I put a slightly open Gatorade bottle in my backpack and got my shoes all wet -- and red.
I wasn't actually nervous at all even though the distance for the swim could clearly be seen. Three buoys down the lake? No, walk a little further out the dock. There's another. And another. 750 down, 750 back. Whoa.
First they sent out all the sprint distance participants. Then two Olympic groups ... then my group. Into the water. Not cold, not too bad. Can't stand on anything. Must stay afloat. Now here's the thing with me and swimming -- I pretty much freak out once I get in the water. This is for a few reasons. First, I'm trying to keep my head above water. Second, I'm trying to keep air coming in and the exhaust going out. The lack of coordination means that occasionaly the "breath" that comes in is actually "water," and the "exhaust" that goes out is more like "desperate gasps of air."
Right from the start, I flipped over and got my backstroke on. I was all about survival at this point. I knew I couldn't do a crawl for more than a little bit (and most of that time was spent trying to look up to see where I was going and the rest freaking out about how long I still had to go.) By the time I was halfway to the first buoy, I was hanging onto a kayak to catch my breath.
Thank God for the folks on kayaks.
Wave after wave of people passed me (or swam over me, whatever the case) as I slowly plodded along. I got pretty excited when I got to the turnaround, but about ten minutes into the "swim" back, I was one of the last people in the water. Fortunately, a rather helpful kayaker gave me some other strokes to try, and I was also somewhat neck-in-neck with another straggler. The kayaker would look at me and look at the other person and be like, "Oh, come on, man, you got him. Keep going. Almost there." Rather helpful.
Finally, after an hour and what, 20 minutes of water-logged agony, I was done. I had actually finished. I didn't give up even though it would have been easy as hell to do so. Looking at the results, I was officially the last person out of the water. But again, there were people who didn't finish.
I somewhat trotted over to my bike and walked it over to the mounting area. There's an access road that goes from the transition area to the perimeter of the park where we'd do two laps. As I turned onto the access road, I bent over to get onto my aero bars, veered off the road, onto the gravel, off my bike and onto my ass.
For those of you who know me or have ridden with me, you know that I fall fairly often from my bike. I don't know why this is, but it's a fact of life. So this was not a big deal. I wasn't bleeding; nothing was broken. Back on the bike, I was like, "alright, screw the run, I'm going all out on this bike." I have been putting in solid efforts on the bike in the past few weeks thanks to the purchase of an indoor trainer.
I passed a few people here and there, but the course was mainly empty. There was a slight wind, and I was determined to go at least 20 mph for as long as possible. Looks like I got pretty close to that. My stomach was cramping up something fierce -- thanks to the bent-over position that wasn't really well-designed -- so on the second lap I had to sit up more to feel better. I think it might have also been the three gallons of oil-laced lake water that I drank. Ooof.
For the bike, I picked a fairly tall gear and turned it slow. I based this on the Tour de France kids, who weren't "spinning" like crazy on their time trials, but just doing a nice constant cadence. I barely switched gears, either. It also gave me time to relax and get over the fact that I just tried to drown myself for over an hour.
With the bike finally over, I only had a run/walk to finish. After a mile of "running" (I actually ran the first maybe, mile and a half or two) I caught up to Ila. This would have been more meaningful had she not started 15 minutes after me. We chatted for a bit, and then I started to run a little more. The rest of the race was a mix of jogging and walking. The last quarter mile started after breaking out of some tree cover, so I decided to put on a good show of it and actually run (somewhat more quickly, mind you) into the clearing, around a bend and through the gate. Of course, by the time I finished, they were already tearing down some of the tents and handing out awards. Nonetheless, I freakin' finished.
Obviously I need to become a stronger swimmer if I want to do this more often. And I will, too. I think the season is over for me this year (baby) but next year I'll be ready for some spring events.
I'm also glad that I was able to do this with Ila, because if I had to drive from Indy to Jersey by myself, I probably wouldn't have. I also probably wouldn't have put up with an hour-plus struggle in the water if there wasn't someone else there to motivate me.
Here are the results of the event. Naturally, I'm all the way at the bottom. But remember! Some people didn't finish.
My friend Ila and I decided back in January to do the New Jersey State Triathlon. We also decided that the sprint distance was "too short." So we elected the Olympic distance -- one-mile swim, 26-mile bike ride, 6.2-mile run. The biking I can do and the running I could handle. The swimming I thought I could do. I practiced swimming maybe twice during the past seven months. Clearly a mistake.
Maria and I drove from Indy to Lancaster on Friday, and on Saturday I drove myself to Philly to register and stay over at Ila and Amor's place. She and I woke up at 4 a.m. and headed over to the start at Mercer County Park in Jersey -- which is beautiful, by the way. I should have known that I was in for a near-drowning experience when we parked the car, and the people next to us asked us what distance we were doing. We replied with "Olympic," and they said, "Oh, you must be good swimmers."
That's just great.
There are two distances and two events per distance -- sprint and Olympic, individual and relay.
We headed over to the transition area and prepared our stuff. More crappiness ensued when I put a slightly open Gatorade bottle in my backpack and got my shoes all wet -- and red.
I wasn't actually nervous at all even though the distance for the swim could clearly be seen. Three buoys down the lake? No, walk a little further out the dock. There's another. And another. 750 down, 750 back. Whoa.
First they sent out all the sprint distance participants. Then two Olympic groups ... then my group. Into the water. Not cold, not too bad. Can't stand on anything. Must stay afloat. Now here's the thing with me and swimming -- I pretty much freak out once I get in the water. This is for a few reasons. First, I'm trying to keep my head above water. Second, I'm trying to keep air coming in and the exhaust going out. The lack of coordination means that occasionaly the "breath" that comes in is actually "water," and the "exhaust" that goes out is more like "desperate gasps of air."
Right from the start, I flipped over and got my backstroke on. I was all about survival at this point. I knew I couldn't do a crawl for more than a little bit (and most of that time was spent trying to look up to see where I was going and the rest freaking out about how long I still had to go.) By the time I was halfway to the first buoy, I was hanging onto a kayak to catch my breath.
Thank God for the folks on kayaks.
Wave after wave of people passed me (or swam over me, whatever the case) as I slowly plodded along. I got pretty excited when I got to the turnaround, but about ten minutes into the "swim" back, I was one of the last people in the water. Fortunately, a rather helpful kayaker gave me some other strokes to try, and I was also somewhat neck-in-neck with another straggler. The kayaker would look at me and look at the other person and be like, "Oh, come on, man, you got him. Keep going. Almost there." Rather helpful.
Finally, after an hour and what, 20 minutes of water-logged agony, I was done. I had actually finished. I didn't give up even though it would have been easy as hell to do so. Looking at the results, I was officially the last person out of the water. But again, there were people who didn't finish.
I somewhat trotted over to my bike and walked it over to the mounting area. There's an access road that goes from the transition area to the perimeter of the park where we'd do two laps. As I turned onto the access road, I bent over to get onto my aero bars, veered off the road, onto the gravel, off my bike and onto my ass.
For those of you who know me or have ridden with me, you know that I fall fairly often from my bike. I don't know why this is, but it's a fact of life. So this was not a big deal. I wasn't bleeding; nothing was broken. Back on the bike, I was like, "alright, screw the run, I'm going all out on this bike." I have been putting in solid efforts on the bike in the past few weeks thanks to the purchase of an indoor trainer.
I passed a few people here and there, but the course was mainly empty. There was a slight wind, and I was determined to go at least 20 mph for as long as possible. Looks like I got pretty close to that. My stomach was cramping up something fierce -- thanks to the bent-over position that wasn't really well-designed -- so on the second lap I had to sit up more to feel better. I think it might have also been the three gallons of oil-laced lake water that I drank. Ooof.
For the bike, I picked a fairly tall gear and turned it slow. I based this on the Tour de France kids, who weren't "spinning" like crazy on their time trials, but just doing a nice constant cadence. I barely switched gears, either. It also gave me time to relax and get over the fact that I just tried to drown myself for over an hour.
With the bike finally over, I only had a run/walk to finish. After a mile of "running" (I actually ran the first maybe, mile and a half or two) I caught up to Ila. This would have been more meaningful had she not started 15 minutes after me. We chatted for a bit, and then I started to run a little more. The rest of the race was a mix of jogging and walking. The last quarter mile started after breaking out of some tree cover, so I decided to put on a good show of it and actually run (somewhat more quickly, mind you) into the clearing, around a bend and through the gate. Of course, by the time I finished, they were already tearing down some of the tents and handing out awards. Nonetheless, I freakin' finished.
Obviously I need to become a stronger swimmer if I want to do this more often. And I will, too. I think the season is over for me this year (baby) but next year I'll be ready for some spring events.
I'm also glad that I was able to do this with Ila, because if I had to drive from Indy to Jersey by myself, I probably wouldn't have. I also probably wouldn't have put up with an hour-plus struggle in the water if there wasn't someone else there to motivate me.
Here are the results of the event. Naturally, I'm all the way at the bottom. But remember! Some people didn't finish.
Friday, July 14
The deal
So on the way up to Chicago for the Fourth of July, I called up Brandon and told him The Deal. That basically, I've decided to be really positive about the move to Indy. I'm not that thrilled about having to leave Pittsburgh -- although I'm sure I can find a Steelers bar out here -- but such is life. I'm going to make the most of it. In that vein, we made a little deal:
Everytime I complain about something relating to Indiana or Indy or being far away from friends and family, I have to note the day/time/complaint and attach it to a dollar. Then put that whole bit into a jar. After three years, Brandon gets the jar.
He's already got a dollar.
So I'm driving up to Chicago and there's a toll (turns out that I didn't have to take the toll road, but whatever). Anyway, the toll is for 15 cents. They're making me stop for 15 damn cents. And, most annoyingly, they don't take my beloved EZPass. I feel that this was a legitimate reason to be outraged.
There are other uh, "things that are noticeably missing" from Indy, but I'm not going to complain. I'm simply going to point them out:
Everytime I complain about something relating to Indiana or Indy or being far away from friends and family, I have to note the day/time/complaint and attach it to a dollar. Then put that whole bit into a jar. After three years, Brandon gets the jar.
He's already got a dollar.
So I'm driving up to Chicago and there's a toll (turns out that I didn't have to take the toll road, but whatever). Anyway, the toll is for 15 cents. They're making me stop for 15 damn cents. And, most annoyingly, they don't take my beloved EZPass. I feel that this was a legitimate reason to be outraged.
There are other uh, "things that are noticeably missing" from Indy, but I'm not going to complain. I'm simply going to point them out:
- No Sheetz or Wawa. So no touch-screen magic for lunch.
- No Krispy Kreme or Dunkin Donuts (that I can find)
- No place like Shadyside (again, that I can find -- there's still much aimless driving to do)
Friday, June 30
Filling up the Diesel
I knew that I had left PA and gotten into the Midwest when I found a pump like this to fill up my lovely car. I think this was in Ohio someplace. Eh, whatever. I didn't take too many photos of the landscape, but I'll describe it -- flat. There are farms and grass and trees, but not much else. The roads don't turn much, you can see for miles, and the sky looks absolutely stunning around sunset.So it turns out that Indy isn't in the Central time zone as I had thought. Thus, the sun sets around here well after 9. And so it's not dark until after 10. Crazy.
Friday, June 16
When you're tired
So although it was just a "ride," I felt my pride ebbing and flowing once in a while. Like when I came up on this guy and his bike. I felt that yes, I am going to have to pass him. However, he was moving along at a pretty good clip, so I figured I'd get a back shot. (I did pass him after a while ... but he stayed back there for quite some time.)
The low point on day two was toward the end of the ride when I got passed by ... a horse and buggy. Now, I've ridden in Lancaster a bunch of times and have nevery had any problems whipping by the carriage. But I couldn't hold my equine friend back for that long. I would have taken a photo, but really, there's no need to photo-document that embarassment.
The low point on day two was toward the end of the ride when I got passed by ... a horse and buggy. Now, I've ridden in Lancaster a bunch of times and have nevery had any problems whipping by the carriage. But I couldn't hold my equine friend back for that long. I would have taken a photo, but really, there's no need to photo-document that embarassment.
End of the ride
This was the end of the 150 miles over two days ... the first day ended at Allegheny college in Meadville, PA. The second at Conneaut State Park in Ohio on Lake Erie. If you look on the left, that's my team, the Wacky Wheelers, in red. I got hooked up with them through my former employer. I want to really thank everybody who donated and made this ride possible. It was a good time that was made more enjoyable by cool weather.
I heard that last year it was blistering out and three years ago it rained all weekend. On day one I was cramping up a lot because of not being that prepared and lack of hydration -- when it's cool out, you don't drink as much as you should. Day two was much better. I drank more, took it easy and spent more time letting my food digest.
Also, on the first day, I "spun" up the hills. That is, I put the bike into an easy gear, cranked up the cadence and slowly climbed. The day one hills were a little longer and steeper. On day two, I just attacked all the little hills. Stood up, pounded. I was also able to draft a lot more on day two and really save energy.
The bike that I bought just a few months ago was brilliant for the ride. Nice and smooth, no mechanical issues. Others were riding all sorts of different beasts -- much older frames, newer carbon jobs. Turns out it's how good you are, not the bike.
I heard that last year it was blistering out and three years ago it rained all weekend. On day one I was cramping up a lot because of not being that prepared and lack of hydration -- when it's cool out, you don't drink as much as you should. Day two was much better. I drank more, took it easy and spent more time letting my food digest.
Also, on the first day, I "spun" up the hills. That is, I put the bike into an easy gear, cranked up the cadence and slowly climbed. The day one hills were a little longer and steeper. On day two, I just attacked all the little hills. Stood up, pounded. I was also able to draft a lot more on day two and really save energy.
The bike that I bought just a few months ago was brilliant for the ride. Nice and smooth, no mechanical issues. Others were riding all sorts of different beasts -- much older frames, newer carbon jobs. Turns out it's how good you are, not the bike.
MS 150 Ride
I spent a little time on the second day of the ride -- shorter, flatter -- taking a few photos off the bike. It was kind of hard because I just wanted to ride and get it over with. I felt like I was going so freakin' slow at times. Day 1 was the worst -- 85 miles, windy, hilly. The wind was the worst because if you stopped pedaling ... you stopped. Plodding along by yourself at 9 mph, you started to calculate how much longer it took. Then a group of steel-legged beasts would whoosh by, laughing at the wind. It's all good. This year was good, but next year, if I'm better prepared, it'll be really enjoyable.
Thursday, June 15
It's official
I got a call today from my former employer, Jacobs. I worked with them in Conshohocken and Lancaster. Turns out that there's an opening in Indianapolis, so we're moving there. I start work on Wednesday. Thought I'd get this blog cranked back up again so everybody knows what's up and can also check out a bunch of recent photos. There has been, as you can imagine, quite a bit going on here in Pittsburgh. I'm certainly going to miss this place a lot. I was really hoping it would be more than just a year, but such is life. We moved in Memorial Day last year and will likely be out of here by the beginning of August.
First piece of big news (the job is a secondary piece) is that we went for an ultrasound last week and found out that we're having a boy! I'm quite excited. I need to make sure to buy some Pitt-appropriate clothing before we leave. They checked everything they could in the ultrasound and so far, so good. We are narrowing down names and may have one very soon.
Second piece of news is the job bit I suppose. I start next Wednesday and will be in a hotel for a bit. Maria will stop working on July 7th or thereabouts. (She's been working as a dental assistant in case you were unawares). She'll join me in Indy for a week to find a place to rent for a year. The housing there is relatively cheap, so after a year we are hoping to build a house or buy a place outside of the city. Possibly in town if we find something worthwhile. I'm very curious to see what Indy is like.
Third piece ... finished the MS150 charity ride this past weekend. Ride to the Lake, no, Escape to the Lake. 86-odd miles the first day, 60-some the next. My summary of that is a whole 'nother post.
First piece of big news (the job is a secondary piece) is that we went for an ultrasound last week and found out that we're having a boy! I'm quite excited. I need to make sure to buy some Pitt-appropriate clothing before we leave. They checked everything they could in the ultrasound and so far, so good. We are narrowing down names and may have one very soon.
Second piece of news is the job bit I suppose. I start next Wednesday and will be in a hotel for a bit. Maria will stop working on July 7th or thereabouts. (She's been working as a dental assistant in case you were unawares). She'll join me in Indy for a week to find a place to rent for a year. The housing there is relatively cheap, so after a year we are hoping to build a house or buy a place outside of the city. Possibly in town if we find something worthwhile. I'm very curious to see what Indy is like.
Third piece ... finished the MS150 charity ride this past weekend. Ride to the Lake, no, Escape to the Lake. 86-odd miles the first day, 60-some the next. My summary of that is a whole 'nother post.
Saturday, January 14
Bicentennial Park
We took a walk around Nashville's Bicentennial Park. Later that day we hit up Centennial Park and the Parthenon. There weren't too many people at the Bi ... but then again, it's just an open field with a lot of wordy monuments.
Parthenon
Here's a lovely shot of the Parthenon at Centennial Park in Nashvegas. The sun and sky were absolutely brilliant that day. Even better, there weren't too many people around muddying up the photographic waters.
Keg and Eggs
From Noshville, where we went for breakfast since the other place -- don't remember the name -- had a line out the door and around the block. Brandon figured that since it was after noon on the East Coast, it was time to start the drinking.
Monday, January 9
Texas
I think this was supposed to be about what we did in Nashville. Instead, I'm going to talk about the good and bad things concerning Texas.
First, the positive points. Living in Pennsylvania, I have a certain amount of pride for the Commonwealth. I mean, there are only four Commonwealths, and we're one of them. But people in Texas, well, they've got pride like nothing else. There are stores, flags, banners, emblems and stickers everywhere.
Second, the weather. We were there the week between Christmas and New Year's. It was perfect. In the upper 60s, down in the 50s during the evening. Maybe a slight breeze now and again. The sun wasn't too bad, and there wasn't any rain.
Now for what I don't like about Texas. Keep in mind that I grew up in the Northeast, so my bias is toward good ol' PA and the like.
I really can't stand how spread out everything is. I mean, if you do have land to use, you don't necessarily have to use it. You don't have to litter the landscape with a bunch of one-story buildings. Make a two-floor job now and again.
All the roads are straight when you get out into the burbs of Houston. This is forever dull. After a while, you get slightly disoriented because well, the same few shops are on every single corner.
The houses don't have basements. This truly freaked me out. I'm used to having a basement and a ping-pong table in it. Thus, people put things in their garages. And then their cars end up outside, blocking the sidewalk. I noticed this when I was walking aimlessly around the neighborhood.
Also, while I was on this walk, it was about 10 a.m. There was still trash out for trash collection. I'm sort of used to it being collected at 6 a.m. or something silly. That kind of hour that you don't want to wake up at knowing that you forgot to put the stuff on the curb.
There are huge runway-style reflectors dividing the lanes on the massive highways. Not just painted stripes. Reflectors that stick about 2 inches above the ground. So everytime you change lanes, you think about the $600 it takes to buy four new tires.
First, the positive points. Living in Pennsylvania, I have a certain amount of pride for the Commonwealth. I mean, there are only four Commonwealths, and we're one of them. But people in Texas, well, they've got pride like nothing else. There are stores, flags, banners, emblems and stickers everywhere.
Second, the weather. We were there the week between Christmas and New Year's. It was perfect. In the upper 60s, down in the 50s during the evening. Maybe a slight breeze now and again. The sun wasn't too bad, and there wasn't any rain.
Now for what I don't like about Texas. Keep in mind that I grew up in the Northeast, so my bias is toward good ol' PA and the like.
I really can't stand how spread out everything is. I mean, if you do have land to use, you don't necessarily have to use it. You don't have to litter the landscape with a bunch of one-story buildings. Make a two-floor job now and again.
All the roads are straight when you get out into the burbs of Houston. This is forever dull. After a while, you get slightly disoriented because well, the same few shops are on every single corner.
The houses don't have basements. This truly freaked me out. I'm used to having a basement and a ping-pong table in it. Thus, people put things in their garages. And then their cars end up outside, blocking the sidewalk. I noticed this when I was walking aimlessly around the neighborhood.
Also, while I was on this walk, it was about 10 a.m. There was still trash out for trash collection. I'm sort of used to it being collected at 6 a.m. or something silly. That kind of hour that you don't want to wake up at knowing that you forgot to put the stuff on the curb.
There are huge runway-style reflectors dividing the lanes on the massive highways. Not just painted stripes. Reflectors that stick about 2 inches above the ground. So everytime you change lanes, you think about the $600 it takes to buy four new tires.
Saturday, January 7
Happy Holidays
Our holiday trip was in several parts. The first was a Christmas Day departure from Pittsburgh to Houston via Detroit. Maria's aunt and uncle live in the suburbs of Houston. Houston is huge. It's about the size of like, Connecticut or something. It takes about 2 hours to drive across and encompasses three different time zones. The beltways around Houston are almost as large as Ed Blazer's. (Inside joke there)
Monday we started the party right by driving to Austin with the older of the two cousins. One is a freshman, the other a senior at University of Texas. Based solely on the fact that I visited the campus, I decided to root for Texas during the national championship game.
Austin was, as you can imagine for a college town, pretty dead the day after Christmas. But I could easily see how it had great party potential. The weather was absolutely perfect during the day, probably in the mid-60s or so. In the evening, it dipped into the 40s.
Tuesday we hung around Houston some more and went to a giant outlet mall. And, of course, because of the potential heat during the summer, the outlet malls are even inside. So you think you're walking in a regular mall, but then you notice that everything is on some crazy sale.
Wednesday we drove out to San Antonio. That was really cool. There's a river walk through the middle of town, and, most importantly, we saw the Alamo. I was pretty excited. I don't remember anything from my American History classes, but hey, there's a lot to read about the Alamo. There were also a ton of people there for the Alama Bowl. The Nebraska fans seemed to outnumber the Michigan ones by about 20-1. It's a pity that Nebraska had to cheat to win the game. Then again, I suppose you could say Texas did that, too.
Good thing college has instant replay, I guess.
Anyway, after that, I got sick. The day in San Antonio I had a massive headache. The next morning there was a full-body evacuation drill that was definitely not sanctioned.
Thursday was a bunch of sitting around and a trip to the mall. We went to the Galleria mall, which is like the high-class mall near Downtown Houston. There was a Louis Vitton store in there. They have luggage. A carry-on costs $1800. For $1800 you could buy a first-class ticket to Pakistan and take your stuff in a garbage bag.
Silly.
There was also a huge indoor ice rink in the same mall. And a giant line to go with it. Where are these people learning to skate?
I'm going to do this in three parts, maybe four. The next issue will be the trip to Nashville. Then a summary of why I don't really like Texas.
Monday we started the party right by driving to Austin with the older of the two cousins. One is a freshman, the other a senior at University of Texas. Based solely on the fact that I visited the campus, I decided to root for Texas during the national championship game.
Austin was, as you can imagine for a college town, pretty dead the day after Christmas. But I could easily see how it had great party potential. The weather was absolutely perfect during the day, probably in the mid-60s or so. In the evening, it dipped into the 40s.
Tuesday we hung around Houston some more and went to a giant outlet mall. And, of course, because of the potential heat during the summer, the outlet malls are even inside. So you think you're walking in a regular mall, but then you notice that everything is on some crazy sale.
Wednesday we drove out to San Antonio. That was really cool. There's a river walk through the middle of town, and, most importantly, we saw the Alamo. I was pretty excited. I don't remember anything from my American History classes, but hey, there's a lot to read about the Alamo. There were also a ton of people there for the Alama Bowl. The Nebraska fans seemed to outnumber the Michigan ones by about 20-1. It's a pity that Nebraska had to cheat to win the game. Then again, I suppose you could say Texas did that, too.
Good thing college has instant replay, I guess.
Anyway, after that, I got sick. The day in San Antonio I had a massive headache. The next morning there was a full-body evacuation drill that was definitely not sanctioned.
Thursday was a bunch of sitting around and a trip to the mall. We went to the Galleria mall, which is like the high-class mall near Downtown Houston. There was a Louis Vitton store in there. They have luggage. A carry-on costs $1800. For $1800 you could buy a first-class ticket to Pakistan and take your stuff in a garbage bag.
Silly.
There was also a huge indoor ice rink in the same mall. And a giant line to go with it. Where are these people learning to skate?
I'm going to do this in three parts, maybe four. The next issue will be the trip to Nashville. Then a summary of why I don't really like Texas.
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