UnrealisticExpectations 3.0

Sydney’s taking swimming lessons. She’s kind of a natural and in the big kids class, even though she’s a first timer. My baby girl’s an aqua rock star.

Barack Obama announced his campaign for the Presidency of the United States.

Never has any single person–man, woman, black, white, etc. etc.–ever touched on so many points that I, personally, feel pretty strongly about.

The political swarm around 2008 is going to be something to behold. I’m glad to get to be alive for this; no matter how ugly it gets or what the landscape shifts to, to get to witness it all unfolding will be awesome–and I’m not assuming anyone is the winner, or loser, at this point, I’m just saying…

I’m just saying. The world’s finally going to get to a point of feeling like people are wrestling for something better instead of wrestling for that which is less evil or the devil you know versus the devil you don’t.

Neat.

In the world of everyone fighting for my dime and my time, Netflix is a current winner.

For starters, I hate hate hate going to video stores. Hell, I used to manage one back in college and I loved the job, but it was a task to hire people who either didn’t steal from you or who actually took pride in their work and cared about the customers.

Yeah, that was me at college. I even worked my ass of 3-4 shifts a week so the Store Manager could take all the credit of keeping his store in order. Pathetic, but I digress.

Video Storeheads are also a bit elitist–they know all about the movies, they silently judge you as you check out (oooh, another Steven Segal for you, sir?) or they pretend to have so much more knowledge than you because they actually work “in the industry”–but, here’s a secret for you storehead: Everyone knows that everything comes out on Tuesday and you don’t get a SAG card for working at Blockbuster, okay? Okay. Now, shut up and hand me that Van Damme movie without giving me your better-than-me look because you get a handful of these rentals for free each week; it’s a guilty pleasure and I’m in the mood for staying up late, eating White Castle and enjoying some Van Damme-age while my wife and kid are out of town.

But, enter Netflix.

For my monthly fee, I get a couple of more movies, no late fees, no driving out at 11:50 on a week night to return that damn video and snotty little 23 year old store manager on a retail power trip.

And, honestly, that was enough for me. I’d sometimes supplement this $18 a month fee with a trip to the local store to find a video game or a handful of different movies if I knew I’d have nothing to do and could use the extra entertainment, but with the inclusion of the XBox 360 and Nintendo Wii into my life, well, I’d just as soon buy a single game and not have to deal AND I’ve got something to do when there’s nothing to watch–and let’s not forget that thanks to the DVR, I’ve got tons of television stuff that I’m missing. And don’t get me started on iPod Videos that make their way down from iTunes or other sources.

But, here comes Netflix with a PVT (Previously Viewed Tapes, at BBV (Blockbuster Video), so maybe it’s just PV) program. Not only are they kind enough to make recommendations (and Netflix, take this hint: Make it easier for me to find the stuff out on DVD this week, okay? Okay. Let’s keep my queue fat without much effort on my part), but they’ll even show you every single item with a little highlight noting when it’s available to purchase as “used”.

But wait. Waitwaitwait.

It gets better.

Easier, even.

Once you click to let them know you’re interested… this little Ajax-like div/popup lets you get right to the action and decide right then and there if you’re ready to have that Pirates of the Caribbean shipped to your home.

Not only that, but since you’re most likely already logged-in, they let you know that by pushing ONE MORE BUTTON Pirates will be shipped right to your doorstep where your subscription goes to and will be billed right to the card your subscription is billed to.

Take that, Amazon! I love Amazon and spend more money there than I ever probably should, but when you purchase a Prime membership, you find ways to make it worth your money–and it generally is. The problem with Amazon is that their checkout process–even when using that beloved 1-click–is TOO DAMN TEDIOUS and there’s too much for me to look at and review.

My ADHD does not like this.

My ADHD likes pushing one more button and being finished with the process, having a movie on its way and me back to browsing the next movie that is going to my queue when I should be designing screens for some online functionality for my bosses.

And if that wasn’t cool enough, Netflix has been adding 250,000 users per week of their “watch it now” service which gives, well, me, 18 hours a month of free, on-demand content to watch. Sure, just at my computer, but I’ve got dual monitors AND I’m on these computers far too much as it is. And if I’m travelling for work, it beats the hell out of porn per view, right? Sure, the selection isn’t great just yet, but they’re preparing for a future where this getting movies by mail just won’t cut it, which is something the Blockbusters of the world should have been doing while they’ve been raking in profits for years.

So, Netflix, keep those top couple of buttons open on that shirt of yours. The Sternum Bush is rocking my world.

And keeping me away from the Video Store Ninjas that I hate so much.

There’s been a lot of smiling going on lately. Sure, there have been some things in life that, like most of the rest of the world would feel, could be better, but at the end of it all there are always some pretty great things that we should all remember to see.

Call me Mr. Postive and Uplifting, eh?

Yeah, well, it’s true.

Try and sound pissed off on the phone when you pause before you pick it up and make yourself smile. Go on. Try it.

Listen as people call you and ask you what’s going on–because they can hear you smiling.

Add a P.S. to any email you send–and watch how, if nothing else you’ve written gets read or remembered, that particular item does. It’s the biggest secret of letter writing out there and I’ve now shared it with you. Because someone shared it with me. Aren’t we lucky?

If I had a nickel for all the bitching and moaning I’ve done about the multitude of jobs I’ve had over the years, the one thing I’d trade all those nickels in for right now is this: I may not be in love with what I’m doing, but at least I get to work.

I get to wake up early everyday, stumble through the darkness of a house that I love that I share with people I love and figure out just how I’m going to shake the sleep off for another day. I get to share a few minutes of Higglytown Heroes with my daughter before I get to take a shower, I get to get dressed and I get to load everyone up and I get to go to a babysitter’s house. Hell, I even sometimes get to wake up with a tiny little foot lodged someplace on me that I’d prefer it did not, but someday I’ll get to miss that.

I get to spend a little bit of time each day dreaming about what’s going to happen next and what it all means, and then I get to let it fade a little and I get to enjoy what’s happening right now.

I realized that, whatever the heck it is that makes the blue orb float around out here in space doesn’t really make a practice of letting things be created just to be extras–there’s a part in this for everyone, and part of the job here is to get out there and make sure you’re living the part that’s right for you. You’re only scenery if you choose to be, dammit.

There are second chances, third chances and bottoms of the barrels to be considered, but somehow, when you start out with that smile in front of you, it really is kind of difficult to fail at everything. I mean, the basics of creating a plan for success is being responsible for yourself, and if you cannot enjoy–smile at–that which you are, you’re not going to get anything.

So, this year is about smiling for me. Hopefully not as much about preaching, like it kind of feels like now, but remember, this is about me.

And you can laugh at that, make fun of it or whatever you’d like–and I’ll smile as you do, because at the end of the day, this smiling thing works for me and I’m cool with how anyone else may feel about it. It’s part of those choices that we get to make, and I’m choosing to work hard at finding something positive in everything, even if I don’t see it right away or I struggle to see it, it simply will be there.

Right now, I get to listen to some great music (The Samples “Seventeen”, followed by The Shins “Wincing the Night Away” and Sufjan Stevens “Illinoise”) and write to a little bloggy thing prior to sneaking under the covers so as to not wake the person who ends up either forcing me to the edge or forcing me to the middle of a bed that needs a new mattress, but that there appears to be a bonus check coming that will allow us to make it happen. Tomorrow, I get to go pick up an elliptical machine that will allow everyone in our house who wants to do a little weight loss thing and a little toning thing to make it happen–and I get to spend a couple of hours putting it together–and I get to see the rewards of the machine being used.

I’m not quite so sure how I get to see this massive Valentine’s Day gift for someone else to be such a great thing, since it will diminish anything I get for my birthday, but then again, I’m the type of person who gets focused on something and finds a way to have it, so maybe I get to have the satisfaction of making someone else happy on a purchase on a whim.

I get to read this again and realize that this is going to make 1s of people sick when they read it.

And I get to smile about that.

(Don’t worry, it won’t be a constant)

We’re throwing a New Year’s Eve party–it’s the first time we’ve ever done such a thing, but since we’re all moved in, the basement is 95%-ish complete and it’s up-and-running and ready to go, we’ve been planning it for most of the 1.25 years that we’ve lived here.

I like parties; I like having friends over and seeing them all, enjoying their company, their families and mine, the stories from life and college and the future plans. It’s warming, it’s comforting and it makes me really, truly, enjoy this life.

And now, thanks to NFL, the Bears v Packers game has been moved right into our part slot–and I think that’s just the type of thing to kick-off the party, to be honest. (It also means I may not have to buy that UFC on PPV after all!)

Makes it all a little more cooler, but that’s beside it all.

We sent out invites, and some of the neighbors from up the street swung by and said they’d be more than happy to offer up their frozen drink machine, so I’ve been making the runs to try and find Strawberry Margarita mix and Blue Raspberry slushy stuff for the kids. Now, it’s the tequila decision, and I think that we’re looking at some Patron-fueled inebriation from the frozen concoction side of the fence.

It also means that we don’t have to make our Sangria (which I love, and which we blatantly ripped from the pages of the Whole Foods Cook Book that Wil loves to recommend, and he’s right on this one) so Nicolle and I don’t have chop up a bunch of fruit, mix up the wine (here’s a tip: Two Buck Chuck all the way!), Triple Sec and frozen fruit juice concentrate stuffs together and let it all soak nicely into the fruit for a sneak-up-and-knock-you-on-your-ass-delicious drunkeneness.

Not to mention, we’ve got family Christmas on her side in Iowa, so with all the travel, it makes it a little less stressful for us. Pretty gracious of them, really, and I’m excited for everyone else to have the extra selection option that requires little effort from anyone.

And now, I’m wandering through the Mojito section of the intarwebs, and I’m thining this little mixer is just easy enough to make that I’ll probably have to give it a shot, screw up a few and then get the next few to tasty treats. Maybe add some Mangos or strawberries to it all… Yum!

So that leads me to the shot department, of which I’ve just found an Oatmeal Cookie, which seems mighty tasty on paper, but probably will suck ass in real life. But, then again, do you really need a reason to buy a bottle of Goldschlager? I think not.

And oh, mighty, deliciousy Jello shots… thank you for popping into my mind today as I was perusing the very large Schweppe’s today.

Oh, delicious!

I think I’ve got a zillion different ideas, but I’m most excited about the one I’ve made-up (although, admittedly, it’s probably not at all new) based upon a whole bunch of comments and notions from other folks.

Chocolate Covered Cherry
Cherry Jello
Chocolate Liqueur
Marachino Cherries, soaked in vodka for 2 days
Whipped Cream topping

I’m excited just to get all the ingredients together and make this! There’s a Costco run in my tomorrow and I I’ll have enough crap to buy, but the “adding to the bar” thing is a fun, dangerous adventure that gets a little too costly waaaaaaaaaaaaaay to easily.

I’ve got my knick-knacky stuff to throw on the bar–napkin holder with stirrers and parasols for the drinks, a tray for the shots to be easily catered around, a couple of shakers to keep things flowing for different shots (don’t miss out on the minty nipple!) and all that stuff. Hell, I even picked up cups with lids and straws for the youngins, just to keep it all fun and easy and, hopefully, spill proof! (hah! like I’m a new parent or something!)

Anyway, not sure when I’ll be back to posting, but I’m starting it again, and it’s feeling a bit nice.

Have a safe, happy New Year’s Eve. Go Bears!

It’s Christmas weekend–like this is a surprise to anyone, right?

Right.

Well, as much as I feel like parts of the world are beating up on me, as much as I feel as if there’s a line of people out there just waiting for the right moment to dump a heap of fresh crap right into my mouth…

Well, there’s something to be said about passing a truck and a bus that’s marked “Illinois State Penetentiary” driving on the same road to make you (me) just kind of think that, as much as things aren’t as optimal as you (I) would hope, well…

It sure as hell could be a lot worse.

Happy Holidays, eh?

(Look, that’s me! Click here to view the whole gallery)

Once upon a time, there was a simple little man–there wasn’t much that he couldn’t do and accomplish great levels of mediocrity.

Right, right.

So we all know I’m talking about me.

Look, there’s not much I’d consider myself “Great” at; I’ve got so much room for improvement on so many levels that about the only thing I’d call myself great at is finding a smattering few people that are willing to tolerate it and allow to continue to become whatever it is I’m on the path for.

Okay, so that’s pretty cool.
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Today, I decided to take a new opportunity that is Contract-To-Hire that I am pretty positive will turn out to be a fantastic experience and will provide me with the opportunity to flex my own professional skills.

When I sent out my resignation to the company I contract for, I had a lot on my mind and I was pretty steamed.
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Sydney’s a Pumpkin for Halloween:

Deny the cuteness. I double-dog dare you.

Anyway…

Yeah, I know.

I haven’t posted in…

Like…

For-EH-VAR!

Sorry. I’ve been busy, and I’ll share when I’m done, but let’s just say that I feel as if I’ve been working 2 full time jobs for the past 3-6 months and it’s been quite a bit of an overload, but I’m still trying to muddle through the last pieces.

Anyway…

Happy Halloween. Twicka Tweet and all that…

I’m a contractor in the work force.

Mostly, that means that, while I’m “technically” someone’s full time employee, I’m really just a hired-hand. A body to drop in, do a job required of someone with certain levels of experience and I get paid by the hour to do so.

For me, right now, it’s a fair and open market.

I’ve been treading the waters going through all of this–it’s been a bit rough to be honest. A first contract went belly-up 2.5 weeks into the process. The second contract–which I’m currently working–was sold to me several times over as a 6 month gig.

I’ve got an email trail to prove it.

Day number one of the contract I found out it was for 6 weeks.

Enter pissed-off Russ.

For the past 6 weeks, I’ve been furiously treading the waters looking for the next contract or full time job, and I’ve been busy. Contracts pop-up and I get contacted by several firms–it’s not exactly a bad problem, but I’m starting to remember just WHY I haven’t been a contractor for so long.

To cut to the chase here, my existing contract was extended until 9/8. I was told that an extension until the end of September was in the works (I really love this gig, btw), but was never provided any solid confirmation as to whether or not it was locked down.

Wednesday last week, I accepted another contract for 3-6 months, with an opportunity to go full time at a pretty senior level. If I’m not a total tool, I could pretty easily get hired on and probably enjoy it.

The instant my notice went out, everyone from the firm I report to, to the firm I’m subcontracting through to the company that we’re doing the work for all came down on me.

As if I’m doing something to them–even though no one provided me with any concrete proof and even though I got screwed on the way in the door.

So, now, I feel very much like I am to blame for all of this, even though the true facts are that 1.5 weeks notice of a contract extension when you are an independent contractor is not much–it’s not much notice leave a contract, but at the same time, it’s also the last day I was aware of being able to work and collect payment for, even if my name was assigned to some dates.

I feel guilty. I’m somewhat riddled with it. I’m actually somewhat sick about it.

I had an opportunity for a full time job with the client, but I sense that they think I should be chasing them down for it. From my perspective, chasing them down for the job is hand-in-hand with negotiating yourself right out of a fair salary. Additionally, I have had a fear that they would want to hire me to do this: |–| when I am capable of this: |———-| and I really want to make sure I don’t get pigeon-holed.

I know they’re happy with my work, and I’ve been told, “give us a call in 6 months” but who can really do that?

At the end of the day, this is an unfortunate scenario that I feel has been out of my control. Yet, I feel that even though I was pretty royally screwed on the way into this, I am expected to do whatever I can to make it right for everyone else–even if it means sacrificing a paycheck for my family.

I don’t see it that way. Does anyone else?

I told myself that I was going to bed by now, but it just didn’t happen–instead, I saw some of the headlines on Google News about Steve Irwin’s death. I’d already heard of this, in a half stupor this morning as I was still shaking the sleep out of my head, and I didn’t think much of it.

Irwin, however, was the Michael Jordan of his game. Sure, people criticize and say he took risks, etc. etc. etc.

It gets old, but it’s also true.

He’s 8 years older than me and he’s leaving behind his wife and 2 young children. I’d say the only positive is that they’ve got mountains of video so that they can get to understand, appreciate the type of person their father was. Hopefully there will be a lot of reality in the outtakes, too.

But I thought to myself that the risks we often take don’t even include the potential harm they could cause to people who are most important in our lives.

I mean, you’re driving and someone cuts you off. You yell. You flip them off. You ride their ass and honk your horn.

They get out at the stop light and drag you out of your car and beat you to death.

Hrmm. Should have thought that through better, right?

Sure, it’s somewhat unlikely, but so was Irwin running into danger when he was a hard core professional in his field, well-respected and well-loved.

Anyway, I don’t feel much like prattling on about the subject except to say that I don’t think I could put myself into his role–hell, I don’t even want to take jobs with excessive travel so I won’t have to be away from my family OR have to leave the sole burden of parenting on my wife, but even so, at the end of it all, I just feel for the loss that is on his family.

I wish them well. I feel for them. I cannot imagine the pain they feel, and can only begin to imagine the pain I would feel without my own family.

Be safe and well.