Monday, February 28

little buddy

Someone left a message on my machine this weekend without leaving his name. He refered to me as "little buddy." I think it was a wrong number - my guess is that the Professor finally got those coconut-telephones to work and the Skipper confused my number with Gilligan's.

life is like veggie tales

I lost my hair brush this weekend. I've been singing the song about the tomato who loses his hair brush all day.

Real Wisconsin

This past weekend, I was invited to go "up north" with my coworker, Alysa. She and her husband, Jon, were going to their hometown because his family was having a sledding party and bonfire at his parents' home. They also invited another coworker, Mike, and their three Godchildren, John, Sunshine, and Jessie. (Sunshine's name isn't really "sunshine;" it's "Heavenly Sunshine." The poor kid.) I was expecting "up north" to take about 3 hours after work on Friday, but the trip was more like 6-7 hours. We took two cars. I rode with Jon in his Toyota - just shy of 250,000 miles. In our backseat was "little John" who slept most of the way. However, at one point he woke up to tell us about what he's learning in school these days. He's become a little confused in his history class and told us all about "the African-American indians" and how they bought an island for some seashells. Jon was good to talk to. He's travelled a good deal and has tried quite a few jobs. Currently he's a pilot at a small, local airport. As we drove farther north, we saw a higher flannel to resident ratio at the truck stops and the smell of dairy cows grew.

We rolled into Grantsburg a little after midnight. Plenty of air mattresses and sleeping on the floor reminded me of camping with the scouts when I was a kid.

I woke up the next morning to the smell of breakfast cooking. Alysa's parents kept us well-fed. The three actuaries spent the morning studying while John and the kids went to prepare for the party at his parents'. Alysa's parents spent their morning shopping for refridgerators. I know this isn't interesting but it dominated so much of our conversations this weekend I have to mention it.

Alysa, Mike, and I arrived at the party early enough to help set up. The house is a log cabin in the middle of the woods at the end of a mile-long driveway. A number of dogs greet every car that pulls up. Despite the rustic look of the cabin, it's very modern and homey. John took Mike and me to the sledding hill via his snowmobile. He hooked up a sled behind it and we took turns pretending we were leading a dog team on the Iditarod. Jon showed us the garage with the boat and the plane that he and his dad have been working on for years and then we got to work, setting up lanterns along the sledding hill, so that we'd be able to sled well into the night.

Jon's family started arriving about 3 o'clock. A ton of little kids, some neighbors, and some distant relatives made it a little easier to be inconspicuous. The big kids let the smaller ones have their fun earlier in the day. We let them pack down the path on the hill and get it pretty icy. I wish we could have clocked how fast some people went down the hill. I really can't believe that no one got hurt in the course of the day. We were sledding for about six hours. During the afternoon we cooked hot dogs over the fire and ate homemade cookies. All of the fruit and vegetables ended up being frozen, but I wonder if anyone really wanted to eat them anyway. The comaraderie of John's family reminded me of mine, however, at some point in the evening I realized that there wasn't any alcohol involved. And now that I think about it, there was very little cheese served this weekend. Perhaps this wasn't the epitome of a Wisconsin-style weekend. The party ended at about 9:00; we were pretty tired.

The rest of the evening involved cards at Alysa's parents' house. Her dad taught Mike and me how to play Scum with the kids. He started by explaining that every round there's a President and a Scum. We both smiled and told him that we already knew the game. A couple rounds of Scum was all we could handle; I see why it has evolved into a drinking game.

We then played Apples to Apples, which I usually abhor because I play it with my younger cousins who don't know what half the words mean. But playing with adults is sort of fun. You end up spending most of your time trying to guess what the picker is thinking and it becomes a very psychological game. Given that I was staying with some conservative Christians, I had to be somewhat careful about when I played my "George W. Bush" card. I remained strong through swift, extreme, and rich and waited for cuddly. I won the point on cuddly.

The next morning was breakfast at the cabin and then we got on the road. Some snow/ice/rain slowed the trip down, but riding with the Johns remained pleasant. We dropped the kids off in Madison and made it back to Milwaukee by 7 o'clock.

I suppose this wasn't the quintessencial Wisconsin experience but it was a lot of fun. It was also very spontaneous of me because I found out about it on Friday afternoon and was packed, ready to go at 5:30. I'm glad I hadn't known about how long the trip was because I would probably have turned it down - but I'm sure glad I didn't.

Friday, February 25

real Wisco

Supposedly, I'm going to experience the "real Wisconsin" this weekend. I'll give you an update on Sunday.

Thursday, February 24

little Saddam

NPR mentioned Saddam's hometown this morning. I've been trying to imagine Saddam Hussein as a little boy all morning. Do you think he's always worn fatigues? Do you think he's always had the moustache?

Wednesday, February 23

office politics (and drinking)

Today I walked past 3 of my coworkers and they all looked at me funny. I smiled and said, "what? are you all talking about me?" I kept about my business but soon learned that, yes, they had been talking about me. One of the three, Brian, only 2 years ahead of me so the next in seniority, stopped at my cube to say that my time has been monopolized too much by one consultant in our office. That he's going to talk to my manager, Deb, about getting me to work on projects more evenly. This wasn't so much a jab at me, but more so at the consultant who is pulling me from work that I was previously assigned to.

Please don't read into this that I do great work. (However, I do.) The reason that people fight over me is that I have the lowest billing rate in the office - my time is worth $185 /hour and I'm the only person in the office less than $200. So, the more work I do on a project, the more likely that it will reach its budget.

Anyway, Deb then stopped by my cube to ask me what I'm working on and I quickly had to recite the things that I had been assigned to - most of which I wouldn't remember in normal situations, but Deb scares the bejesus out of me to make matters worse. She's actually a great boss and I have no reason to be afraid of her. During today's discussion she pointed out that she knows how difficult it can be for the "new hire" to tell a consultant that he doesn't have time to spend on another project. It was somewhat of an embarrassing situation, especially since everyone around me can hear what goes on in my cube and Brian was standing right there too. And really, this didn't help my situation. I still have the consultant pestering me with extra work and the people I normally report to are pissed because I'm falling behind on my real stuff. And, I have to tell Deb that last night I stayed till 8 o'clock to work on the project - 3 hours of overtime. Ugh. Just after all this, the receptionist, Schar, delivered a fax to me and she said that I looked very diligent with my pen behind my ear. She always shows up at just at the right time. I suppose she hasn't noticed that I always have a pen behind my ear.

After work, we had a celebration for those people that passed their exams in the last sitting. After pregaming in the office we went to a Mexican place. Burritos and margaritas on the company! Some good office gossip was passed around and one guy managed to embarrass himself many times over. That definitely made up for the rest of the day.

Sunday, February 20

Like a prayer leads to chili

I was right. No one in my group understood the Madonna "Like a Prayer" analogy. Today's lesson was a bust. However, due to the unexpected snow that hit Milwaukee today, our group was down to less than half and we didn't even have the minister. The small group did allow us for more casual conversation and I learned a good deal about my church and the people that go there - their jobs, their histories, their motivations.

As we got ready to go, one of the women said that she was hosting a dinner party tonight for some other people in the congregation. Her friend (and congregant) was supposed to host a dinner party because her son and his boyfriend were in town from Germany for the week. But she was sick so she asked this woman at my meeting to host it instead. The new host suggested that since I would know some people there, I should come too. I politely declined because I assumed she was just being nice, since everyone else from our class was going to her chili party. But then she pressed the issue. She pointed out that the party guests were bringing their children who were all about my age and, being new to Milwaukee, I should take this chance to meet some peers. So, I accepted. It felt a little strange going to a party like this but then, at the time, I saw it as an adventure. Even if I didn't make a new friend, I would learn about the people who run my church - and it's always good to know church politics.

I don't have any good anecdotes from the evening, but I did enjoy talking with people around the table. They were well-educated - most of them lawyers - and those that weren't were well-aware of the community around them. We talked about movies, German law, education, making one's own yogurt - you know, typical polite conversation. Unfortunately, I didn't make any connections that I picture lasting, but it was a pleasant way to spend the evening. I wonder if I looked like some poor, pitiful kid who doesn't know anyone from town. Eh, so be it.

I never made an entry about my two-day training in Chicago last week. During the day I learned about valuation fundamentals (with a 15-minute overview of pension reform proposals), but at night - that was when memories were made. Some highlights: staying on the 32nd floor of the posh, lakefront W Hotel and wondering if I would be fired for requesting such a hotel (the bill was actually only $165, not much demand on a Wednesday in February), a $300 sushi bill, getting free beer from ugly Budweiser girls, trying not to dance with the old ladies at the dueling piano bar, kissing Brianne because she placed herself between me and said old ladies, requesting everything from Snoop Dogg to Garth Brooks to Styx to TLC (I paid $5 for "Waterfalls" - the Budweiser girls were very good to us.), seeing actuaries dance, witnessing a bar fight, being driven (kicked) out of bar for said fight, requesting a wake-up call for 7 am at 3 am. It was a successful training. I hope they send us to do it again soon.

I mentioned actuaries dancing. This is now on my top 5 funniest things list. It brings me as much joy as Raymond doing his "dying giraffe" impression. I can't explain it. It must be witnessed to be appreciated.

Saturday, February 19

Lent & the Madonna

I have joined the Lenten bible study at my church. We meet once a week during these forty days before Easter. We follow a booklet that has the theme of living a modern, Christian life. I find it well-balanced between traditional bible stories and their applications to modern-day life. As I prepare for our class on Sunday, I found this week's reading particularly difficult to get through. I kept laughing at it. Here's an exerpt; I think you'll figure out what is being referenced:

"...Her [Madonna's] words refer again to life as mystery and how each person must stand alone. She sings of feeling at home at the sound of her name being called. As the bridge continues, the scene shifts back to the church, and Madonna and the choir sing and dance joyfully. While Madonna may or may not agree, it is as though she is singing about Jesus. His voice is like a prayer, like music. His voice is a mystery; it's like a dream, and he is not what he seems. Jesus' voice is like a prayer, and she has no choice when she hears it."

While I understand what the author is saying, (she spends a good deal of this week's lesson on the "Like a Prayer" video) I wonder how much of her meaning will be lost on my classmates. Most of them seem like they would be too old to be familiar with Madonna's early 90s' work. Perhaps I will be playing a pivotal role in tomorrow's class.

Monday, February 14

shocker

My car shocks me. Every time I get out of it. Ever since I bought the new tires. And like the stupid rat who never studied Pavlov or Skinner I continue to get out of the car and, likewise, get shocked. Except for the day that Cory came to visit - then I would wait for him to get out of the car first and let him drain all of the electricity. Sure, it was mean, but I've been living with this for months, he can take it for a day.

Valentine's Walk

Tonight my young adult spiritual discussion group met. We meet about twice a month to discuss a previously determined book or article. We have also met to watch a movie together. Most of us found out about the group from a craig's list posting and a good number of us are new to Milwaukee. The discussions can be quite interesting as we have a wide range of religious backgrounds and no denomination seems to win out. Yes, we are all Christians or were raised with Christian backgrounds, but as I said, our denominations are diverse - Catholic, Pentacostal, Methodist, Mormon, Lutheran, and Baptist. Tonight's discussion was great, and I'm starting to really appreciate the group. In case you're interested we discussed a sermon that was written by Dean Neville of BU. Can you guess who suggested it? I picked it because we often talk about the religious right and I wanted to see our reactions to someone who, I believe, is a little too far left.

Anyway, after such a nice evening, I decided to go for a walk around my neighborhood. The weather is balmy (37F!) and I hoped the fresh air would make it easier to fall asleep. The walk went by quickly, which means I must have had a good deal to think about. This would be a very boring entry except that along the way I witnessed three men arguing across a parking lot. Two men on one side of the lot and the third on the other kept yelling, daring the other group to fight. Being Valentine's Day I imagined that they were fighting over a girl. I tried to think of that instead of all the expletives they were shouting. It was somewhat comical how both threatened but certainly neither one wanted to fight the other. The single man walked into the street, suggesting that they fight in the road; at this point I assumed they must be drunk. I kept walking as cars began to pass; they slowed down, honked, and the man kept yelling. Then came the unmistakable sound of a body being hit by a car. I turned around to see the man on the hood of a car and then fall onto the ground. I thought, "This is me being tested." followed by, "This is me, wanting nothing to do with the situation." The two or three cars that had been driving by stopped and the drivers got out. However, by the time they were out of their cars, the man had already risen from the ground and had continued his tirade against the other men. I couldn't see the pair anymore, nor could I hear them so I don't know what happened. Like a wimp, I decided that the man was not seriously hurt, the drivers had all gotten out of their cars, and surely, by now, someone had used a cell phone. I would not be needed, so I continued on my walk. A block later, an ambulance drove towards "the action" only to justify my rationalization.

A few other strange things happened on my walk, but all of them were the "you-had-to-be-there" types and would be difficult to explain in the blog-format - like the juxtaposition of overheard conversations or glances from a couple as they exited a romantic restaurant. At one point I checked for the moon to make sure it wasn't full.

Thursday, February 10

2 BU students

Tonight an RA friend from last year told me about 2 BU students who were killed this week. They were hit by a commuter train late one night. Noone knows how or why. They were 19 and 20. It certainly gets one thinking.

Thor

Last night I began my stained glass-making class, which is offered through the Milwaukee County Recreational Education Group. We received a list of materials for next week and told to start planning projects for the next few weeks. I'm taking this class for two reasons. 1. I'd like to make something artistic. 2. I want to meet some new people.

One of the other students is named Thor. This isn't the first time I've seen Thor of Milwaukee; he was also on my Ultimate Frisbee Team for a week, but I don't think he remembers me. Thor is a young guy, tall and medium-build, with a full beard. Even though I give you this description, I would bet that you still picture him in a viking hat. I've actually seen the guy, yet I still see a viking when I think of the prototype of a person named Thor. I don't really imagine vikings to be a stained glass-making people. I picture them more to be the stained glass-breaking type of people. I will keep you up-to-date on my stained glass escapades, but more importantly on the ultimate frisbee-playing, stained glass-making viking, Thor of Milwaukee.

Monday, February 7

faster-paced

Today I started working with a new team at work. I'm not officially on this client team, but they want me to do their grunt work for them because I'm the cheapest person in the office. I think it's a good opportunity: I'll be working with different people, including our office manager. I'll get direct contact with the client. And it'is a huge, global company. However, my initial meetings were a little rough today. Everyone talked quickly and things weren't very organized. Every 15 minutes or so the project manager would turn to me and say, "Donny, did you understand any of that?" Fortunately I did. I knew what they were saying on a sentence-by-sentence basis, but I couldn't exactly follow the big ideas. I suppose it would help if I had previously seen the computer programs they were talking about, met the people that they talked about, or had some inkling of what type of pension plan was being discussed. By next week, however, I will have read all of the literature available, and I should be ready for our meeting with their representatives.

I know that work entries are boring. But this blog is not just about you. It's about me too.

Thursday, February 3

Back in the shuffle

I have a great deal to do, but instead I'm typing things into my blog. I still haven't reported on my trip to Boston, which was last weekend. I had a fantastic time and it was good to be reminded of the close friends that I have in places other than Wisconsin. I also enjoyed talking with my friends about work. The last time we were all together we were all taking classes and complaining about homework and our professors. Now we complain about lack of or too much to do at work and our bosses. It's important to note that while in Boston I mentioned going on a cruise together and not one of my friends said, "No, that doesn't sound like a good idea at all." So, today I've begun looking at cruise prices for summer vacations. If you're reading this, that means three things: (1) You have access to a computer. (2) You're a friend of mine, who I'd enjoy spending a week with aboard a luxury oceanliner. (3) You're wasting time when you should be searching for cheap (yet glamourous) get-aways. Get crackin' and get googlin'.


Yesterday I went to see a play with a friend, Oscar, who I met through my quasi-Christian discussion group. He works as a director of the mentoring program at the YMCA, for which I am a mentor. I'm a little jealous of his job. Anyway, a friend of Oscar's is the director of a play, Mrs. Farnsworth, which is being performed in the South side of Milwaukee. The director likes to invite people to a free preview of the play, so that the actors can get a feel for what a paid performance should feel like. They get to work on their timing and their interaction with the audience. Yes, it was a blackbox theater, in which the audience is sometimes part of the story. Overall, I enjoyed the play. It wasn't moving and it's not going to change my life, but it was funny and it was smart. The characters were interesting and worked well together. But more importantly, I enjoyed the evening because I finally found the kooky performance community of Milwaukee (and now I'm on their mailing list). It was a breath of fresh air from the stuffier world of business.

(Let me just say I love my NPR station, WUWM. This week they keep playing Flaming Lips music. And I don't mean a song in a 30-minute series, but just clips of music as a segue. For example just now, they played a tune from the Yoshimi album between a story about the Supreme Court and one about credit cards and security. It's great.)

Tomorrow my discussion group is coming over to watch the movie Magnolia. I'm a little worried that they won't like the movie and we'll have nothing to discuss. In case this happens, my back-up plan involves a case of beer, a bottle of wine, and my friend, Jack. I've been cleaning my apartment tonight - actually I haven't - the bathroom still has my beard trimmings and my kitchen sink is filled with dirty dishes. You see, I've been busy. I just bought the West Wing Season 1 and I need to know what's going on in "our country." Pres. Bartlett needs me. Some other things that I've neglected today: studying, writing letters to Molly, Officer Sammis, Uncle Mike, Katie, calling Croom and my grandmother, who has been in the hospital for the past week. Yes, I'm a horrible grandson, but every time I remember Gramma, it's 11:30 pm and the one time I did call her during a decent hour, she didn't pick up the phone.

Ok, I need to stop posting now. I'm just making myself feel bad.

(WUWM is now playing Cake.)

Tuesday, February 1

Tipper

It's been a long day. Up at 4 (central time) in Boston to make it to my cubicle in Milwaukee by 9. Then I stayed late at work.

I'm going through my receipts from the weekend. I tipped the White Horse waitress (Hillary, from IL not TX, English major not anthropology) $5 on an $8 check. I don't remember doing that. Man, she played me like a fiddle. I'll have more updates from the weekend when I've had more sleep.