"Motrin IB for pain."

"We've got free tickets to the Astros game tonight. 3rd row behind the bullpen," my boss says to me yesterday afternoon. FANTASTIC!

I love baseball. And the only thing better than baseball, is free baseball. This makes two trips in a row I've managed to obtain free admission to Minute Maid Park. I can't wait. This is gonna be great. A good ball game, ballpark food and a bunch of guys that I enjoy being around.

So, we get out of the office after another 12 hour day (third in a row) and head down the street to the ballpark. The seats are not bad at all. Just to the left field side of center, we are right behind the bullpen. Our section doesn't fill up, so we spread out over a couple of rows and a few seats, making things more comfortable for everyone. It's a good thing. 5 hours (or 14 innings) later, the Astros finally score to break a 3-3 tie and win the ballgame.

Now, I loved every second of the game. I want to make that perfectly clear. It was fantastic. However, after about the 8th inning, I feel a headache coming on. "No big deal," I think to myself, "Someone is gonna score, we'll get outta here, head back to the hotel and I'll take some Tylenol PM and sack out."

As you can probably tell from the fact that the game went 14 innings, things didn't go quite the way I had envisioned them.

12:30, we finally get back to the hotel. Gotta be up in 5 1/2 hours. I take a Tylenol PM now, I'm never gonna wake up. I forego the Tylenol and hope the headache will just go away.

6:00. The alarm goes off. I feel like I've been hit over the head with a frying pan. This is gonna be a long day. I'm tired and I've got a headache so bad, I think I'm going to vomit when I turn on the lights. I decide not to. In the dark, I somehow manage to put my clothes on and get into some sembelance of order. Tylenol PM is REALLY not the way to go now... Gotta do something else to get rid of the headache. I vaguely remember a small pantry thing next to the front desk. I decide that's going to be my best course of action.

I open the door and the light in the hallway makes my head explode. Sensory overload. My head is on fire. I make my way to the front desk. They've got Tylenol or Motrin IB. Somewhere in the back of my head, I remember "Motrin IB for pain" from an old TV commercial. That guy better be right or I'll hunt him down and share my headache with him.

"2 packets of Motrin and 2 cans of Red Bull," I say to the lady behind the counter. The sound of my own voice makes me wince. It's like someone put a megaphone to my head and started shouting into it.

The nice woman delivers my order. It's WAY overpriced. I don't care. I'd do damn near anything to make the throbing in my head go away.

I grab a newspaper and sit in the darkest corner of the lobby I can find. Gotta wait for the boss so we can go into work. I open my first Red Bull and use it to chase down my 4 Motrin.

I flip through the sports page. Duke lacrosse... Reggie Bush... I can't even read the articles. The Motrin has to kick in soon.

Finally, the boss comes down. He tosses me his keys and says, "Pull the car around front." No problem. I pull the car out of the garage to the front of the hotel. Finally my headache is starting to subside. By the time we get into work, my breakfast of champions (Red Bull and Motrin... Mmmmmm... Tasty.) has done it's magic.

Now, if I can just stay awake for the rest of the day.

Lots of time... Nothing on the internet...

Well, I'm discovering that I've got a little more time on my hands here than I thought I would. Got back to the hotel after 12 hours at work and a nice dinner at the Fox Sports Bar we got back to the hotel. I've got free high-speed internet in the hotel room, so I decide to get online. I'm not tired. Not much on TV. Sports Center is on. So are old re-runs of Mad About You, a favorite of mine. The TV is on in the background, but I'm more focused on the computer. The only problem... There's NOTHING on the internet.

Ok, I know, "nothing" is a pretty bold statement. Honestly there are only a handfull of sites that I am really interested in. A couple of blogs (you guys know who you are), ESPN, Hockey Fights and waiterrant.net. Considering I worked a 12 hour day at my computer, guess how many of these sites I've visited. That's right. All of them. Not a whole lot left for me to look at.

I keep thinking, "What are the sites that I always think I want to go to but never do?" None of them come to mind. The Mad About You re-run is over. I really want to find a convenience store and get a couple of drinks and some snacks. But then again, I really don't want to leave my hotel room... Just one of those nights...

Any suggestions for sites to visit tomorrow night?

Don't drive with drunk people

First night in Houston this week. We got in at 3:00 and immediately were called in to work. Damn... This was supposed to be a day off.

Go into the office here in Houston. No one is happy. This was supposed to be a light day for them too. 5 or 6 of them got called back into the office to work on an issue. My boss is one of them. We work for a few hours. My co-worker and I who flew in today haven't eaten since about 7 in the morning. We were hoping for dinner.

After the major issue is resolved, we decide that it is finally time for some food. Good, I'm starving. We go to a little sports bar not far from the office. My boss, two of my co-workers, another lady from the office and myself all grab a table and order. As the only non-drinker, I become the designated driver. I don't mind. I'd rather be driving than let someone else drive after a night of drinking. Besides, the rental car has a GPS system to guide me where I need to go... At least, that's what I thought.

After the sports bar, and another sports bar, we head back to the car to head home. The woman from the office takes shotgun... and immediately takes control of the GPS system.

"No big deal," I think. "She'll put in the destination and that will be that."

Not so much. She turns the display toward her and says, "I'll guide you. You don't need the map."

Grand. She's been drinking all night, and now she thinks she's going to guide me home? You're kidding.

"I need the map," I say, hoping she'll see the wisdom in letting the SOBER person in the vehicle see the map so he knows where to go.

Again, not so much...

"What? You don't trust me?"

"NO!" I want to scream. But I restrain myself. While she's distracted by something (and really, who cares what it was?) I turn the display far enough that I can see it, but hopefully not far enough that her inebriated mind won't realize that it moved.

Fortunately, she doesn't notice. She does try to dance (unsuccessfully) in the passenger seat. *shakes head*

After returning to the hotel, we part ways. I think she said something about going to the latin bar down the block. Man, I hope not. She's going to be hating life enough tomorrow morning if she goes to bed now...

Oh well, to each his own. Now to the shower and to bed. Gotta work early tomorrow. More from Houston later.

The Importance of E-Mail

Ok, it's been one of those days. For anyone who has ever done any type of telephone support for anything, you know the days I'm talking about. Non-stop calls, everyone is an a snit and you and your co-workers are doing everything in your power not to verbally abuse the people on the other end of the call. Add to that the fact that we are converting an entire bank from the software they're used to, to our software. That increases the pressure just a bit.

So, I'm doing alright. I've managed not to put the verbal smack down on my callers, even the lady who thought I said my name was Jasmine. (Although I did have some nice words for her after I hit the end call button...) Other than that, I'm ok. I'm set. I'm composed. Until the stupid people call. You may think calling them stupid is harsh, but hear me out.

Like I said, we're converting an entire bank (Corporate Headquarters, regional headquarters, all the brances, etc.) to new software this weekend. We've been preparing for this since the beginning of the year. Over the last two months, every employee has been given logins to the new systems they'll be using. They were all sent an e-mail telling them to test their logins. Then they were all sent another e-mail, reminding them to test their logins. Finally, they were sent an e-mail saying that, the week before the conversion (this week) the systems would be taken off line and they would not be able to test their logins. If they tried to test their logins, the server would disable their account and they would need to reset their password on Saturday, when the systems come back online. We can't even get into the systems. They're down. NO WORKY!

So, now, a day before everything is supposed to go live, hundreds of people, who have put off testing their logins until the last possible second are now trying to login and they're NOT SUPPOSED TO BE!!! THEY DIDN'T READ THEIR E-MAIL!!!

Now, I understand that large corporations send countless e-mails, most of which can be ignored by most departments, but you would think they'd pay attention to the ones which deal directly with a MAJOR CHANGE to EVERY DEPARTMENT!

It's been all I can do to keep myself from yelling into the phone and saying, "YOU NEED TO READY YOUR DAMN E-MAIL, MORON! IF YOU'D READ YOUR E-MAIL, YOU WOULDN'T BE HAVING THIS PROBLEM!"

Why can't people follow instructions?

Like Father Like Son

Do you ever wonder when it happens? When you develop your own personality but somehow it ends up being just like your father? (Or mother, as the case may be.)

I've slowly been realizing this fact for the last couple of years. I notice my dad and I laugh the same, we're both fairly quiet guys. We don't say a lot unless people talk directly to us. We both have a very sarcastic, smart ass, sense of humor.

Yet another example of this manifested itself this past Sunday. My wife and I were sitting down and chatting with my mom and dad when my mom decides to try to figure out where I work. I tell her, "We're right next to My Sugar's Donut Shoppe." My mom says, "Ok. What was it you used to stop there for?"

My dad and I make eye contact. I know what he's thinking, because he's thinking the same thing I am. The difference is, I actually said it... "Donuts..."

Honestly, what else do you stop at a donut shop for? Hamburgers? Tires? NO! Donuts!!

My dad and my wife lose it. They're laughing. I look at my mom... She's got that look on her face like, "I know I walked right into that one, but you just HAD to be a smart ass..."

Yes, I did have to be a smart ass. It's in my nature. Then my mom looks at my wife and says, "Like father, like son."

That got me thinking, was I always a smart ass? Did I always respond to those types of questions with those types of answers? I can't remember. If not, when exactly did it happen? I can recall instances of my life that have encouraged the behavior. My dad and my uncles practically showed me how to do it. I have an aunt that every time she opens her mouth, they all look at each other like, "Who's turn is it to knock this one out of the park?"

Just one of those things that I end up thinking about for days. Not because it's important, but just out of sheer curiosity.

A chance encounter on the freeway.

So, I'm driving out to Stansbury yesterday to play a round of golf with my little brother. As I approached the Lake Point exit, I move over to pass a couple of cars. I look over that the first car and I swear Kat's driving. Since I can't pass the next car in time to get to the exit, I slow down and let the person that I assume is Kat, pass me again. Again I look over. That's gotta be Kat.

So, I pull in behind her and follow her off the exit. As soon as the off ramp splits into two lanes, I immediately move to the other lane and pull along side Kat. That's GOTTA be Kat. I look over and wave. She doesn't see me.

Traffic. Damn. I pull in behind her again, intent on making every effort to try to get her attention before I turn off to Stansbury. I pull along side again. I wave, I honk. She doesn't look over. More traffic. I pull up along side one last time. I pull out in front a little more, hoping she might catch me out of the corner of her eye. I look back and see the name tag hanging from the rear view.

KAT

Yep, I knew it. It HAD to be Kat. I honk and wave again, but to no avail. I would have followed, but my little brother was waiting at the golf course by himself.

Kat, my firend, you are one focused driver.

Stupid Blog - Time for an update

Ok, this is the third time I've tried to post today. Let's hope it works this time.

Back from vacation in Vegas! Why does it always seem like you're more tired AFTER vacation than you were before you left? It was a blast though. Gambled way to much (may have to start looking for a meeting), went to Cirque de Soleil, and generally had a great time. Honestly though, there's so much to do in Vegas anymore that you'd need a month to do it all. And that's just the stuff I want to do. Good times though. I may have to plan another trip out there next year...

Was back from vacation for a week, then headed out to Houston for work. (Again, I can't stress enough how NICE it is to travel with a large corporation. Another REALLY nice hotel, meals and rental car all paid for. It's a sweet deal.) First thing the rental car agency asked me kinda threw me though. "Would you like a GPS System in your car?" I'd never been asked that before. I said, "I don't know. Do I?" She asks, "Is this your first time in Houston?" "Yes." "You want the GPS."

It's a damn good thing I took her advice, otherwise I'd still be looking for my hotel. It's like the person who laid out Sandy, with all it's winding roads and stuff, was contracted to lay out an entire metropolitan area... then went on a crack binge. The only thing that kept me comfortable is knowing that the lady in my GPS device would get me to work and to my hotel. And if I missed a direction, she'd correct it.

Now I'm home for a couple of weeks. Man it's nice to come home. I thought our dog was going to have a puppy heart attack when I got home on Friday though. When I walked in the door, she jumped off of the couch and into my arms and about licked my face off. Nothing says, "Welcome Home" like a dog licking your face. Someone once said, "We give dogs the room we can spare, the time we can spare and the love we can spare, and in return dogs give us their all. And it's the best deal that man has ever made." Never more true than when I came home on Friday. I'm glad to be home.