Missing the train.

well, I missed the last night at 2851N Halsted last night. Pissed I did, but Joanna Buese sent an email this morning that closed with "to the future" I agree.
presently, I am missing my wife and child, and the TP in the US. Paris' TP is razor sharp... I Also miss my dog. Here's one that was here at the office yesterday. I have no idea why.
Had a great dinner last night at a place called Spicy and came out to some mild wilding in the streets. something to do with labor day today...or soccer.
This morning I hit the paris flea market at cligancourt. I navigated the subway like a pro. in fact, someone even asked me for directions... I must have looked pretty parisian in my day-old clothes, lacoste jacket, non-showered hair and 3 days growth of beard. in fact, I've duped my way through at least three purchases or dinner tables before the person waiting on me realized I couldn't speak french.

Back to work. Someone joked last night about Winston travel. You go away, and people say, "France, huh? Whadja see?" You say, Nothing. Just worked. I haven't worked a day on this trip less than 12 hours.

My laptop has been broken twice. Once I bumped into a wall, and broke the hinge, then plugged into europower and fried it. The switched out the chassis, and thankfully no data loss. The second time someone else plugged it in to europower.
I'll work YOU.

Sodium Hut

Long day yesterday. Pizza butt ended up being for dinner. If you've ever had pizza hut right when they open, you know what last night was like. The Hut re-uses its pans all day, so at the end of they day is when the pizza is good, because all the residual grease makes the crust great. Early in the day ones are flat and lame. We had a bunch of salads also. The french have really nailed the meat-laden salad. One of the guys on the team had a restaurant's signature salad. It was loaded with fries, bacon, ham and cheese. With apologies to SNL, "Fries?! Now that's what I call a Salad!".
After we got as far as we could around 10 P, we hit the Champs-Elysses, and I made up with beer. I had 2 Carlsburgs.
Around midnight I went home and tollerated French TV for a few minutes before falling asleep. I was watching French UPN, and
you know those "chat line" ads in the States? They have those except all the chicks are naked.
The move starts at 6:30 PM. All the phones are supposed to be set up before the night is through, so I'm banking on a long one.
Last night, I got a voicemail from Kiki and Miette. It's Kiki making Miette say Dada. I don't think I'll ever delete it.

Wait just a achy-breaky minute!

Lots of aches, lots of apologies all around yesterday. We were all wondering what the hell happened. My stomach muscles are killing me from all the vomiting, and my face features a lot of broken blood vessels. We're thinking that this "free" appetizer they gave us may play a role in the debacle, but the three of us had the same beer and this appetizer.
Spent a long day pouring over floor plans and creating a spreadsheet for telephone and network. Went to a cool Bistro for lunch (a great Salad) and a great one for dinner; the Copernic. They had a cheeseburger on the menu. I tried it. Not bad, not great. Then it was back to the room. We weren't blindingly busy yesterday, but as is the nature of these trips, we worked from about 8 'til 10.
This is where I am. The current office is on Victor Hugo, the hotel is on Kleber, and the new office is on Marceau. The circle in the middle is our old pal the Arch.

Today was an 8 am start again (1 AM Chicago time). I got as far as I could on the spreadsheet, then we went to a bistro for lunch and froze eating outside. Afterwards we walked by the hotel to get a jacket and get rained on, then went to the new office to get some questions answered. Afterward, I walked back and finished up. We'll see how this goes. I have a break now, and they're ordering dinner in because the network team is having a bear of a time with vendors. I was hoping to make up with beer, but we won't drink in the office, so maybe tomorrow.
I just took a Pain au chocolate break, and am settling in for another late one.
I miss my wife and daughter like MAD. Mad, I say. They didn't call this AM, and it's all I can think about.

Puke breaks the Ice or Bookended by Puke

I left home to travel to Paris Sunday at 5 PM.
The fucking TSA took my good luck charm, a zippo lighter with a shamrock on it like the one in Indiana Jones and the last crusade. I know what you're thinking: I should have known better since you can't fly with lighters anymore. Well, when they made that rule, I actually removed all the mechanics of the lighter, so it wasn't a lighter at all. It was just the metal casing. They wouldn't listen to me though, even though I've flown with it probably 5 times now, and confiscated it.
I was originally seated between one of my colleagues and a Russian mother and her child. When the dad approached me about switching seats, I practically leapt at him. I was now seated next to a young french woman. I fell asleep before takeoff and probably got three hours' sleep on and off.
I woke up in the middle of a tripefest in the form of Elizabethtown. What's with these movies these days and their collective dearth of sympathetic characters?
Anyway, 8 hous on a plane is hell any way you slice it, and I really felt bad for the person seated in front of the frenchwoman. She was kicking the crap out of the seat in front of her. After a while, she started invading my side. I had given up the armrest 'cause I'm a gentleman, but she was bumping anything near her.
So, i was frifting back in-and out of sleep on our landing when I distinctly felt her throw 2 elbows. I opened my eyes, and she was puking. I hit the call button, but the stewardesses were already in their landing chairs, so I tryed to hand her barf bags, and she wouldn't take them. Man, it kept coming. It was her entire contents onto the floor. The lady in front of her sprayed perfume down the wall of the plane.
After it ews over, I handed her all the kleenex I had (3) and a piece of gum. She was all talkative after that. She had braces on her teeth. Puky braces.
So we landed and got to the Sofitel which is nice as hell. In france, they don't believe in shower curtains, so every time I shower, I make Lake Thompson in the bathroom which has a wood floor. I'm not sure what they expect.
We put in partial day since we were all tired and hit the Champs Elysses for a drink and dinner. It started out as paradise having beers and shooting the shit in an outdoor cafe. I slowed when I realized I was drunk, though two of the other guys at the table started calling me a sally.
I don't know what time it was when I puked in the bathroom there. It was early, though, like 6 PM paris time. I came out to tell them I was heading back to the hotel, and they were all ready to go as well.
In an instant, the shit hit the fan. Some large protest formed on the street, and just as quickly, the skies opened up and it began to pour. We tried to walk in the direction of the hotel and quickly got lost. We then got a cab. The guy in the front started drunkenly apologizing to the cabbie for being american as myself and another guy in the back seat (luckily seated at the windows) began puking. The manager was seated between us, and just started laughing. It toook forever to get to the hotel, and I went upstairs and left my clothes in an wet pile only getting up to puke in the night (probably 4 times), the last being at 4:40 AM Paris time. I had the chills all night in my sweltering room.
It was like a twentysomething birthday. No shots at all. Just three huge (50 cL) beers and no food. ...and jet lag.
This AM, I am hung over, but fortunately better for the wear than my two colleagues.
I'm hoping this has nothing to do with the loss of my good luck charm.

Farewell again

Last night we had another loot CSz rehearsal. It was not until days ago that I discovered this monstrousity:


Apparently CSz used to be a Bakerym and this is the oven. To me, it looks like the furnace in any Freddy Krueger movie. It took me 5 minutes to work up the courage to open that door...

Nocturnal Emissions

Monday at 4 AM, My wife woke me up to tell me the dog was peeing the bed.
He's terrified of T-storms, so he didn't go out that one last time before racking out. I grabbed him to carry him downstairs (he's a lil' fella, about 17 lbs) and cupped my hand in front of his full stream. He peed all the way down the stairs to the front door where I finally let him out. We had to leave all the mess until 5:45 so as not to wake up the baby.
So at 5:45, I stripped the bed, cleaned the carpet upstairs, mopped the floor downstairs, and bathed the dog before leaving the house.
Needless to say, I missed the train.

Fuck me? Fuck YOU!

Thanks to Dr. Tim Chidester for the title of my entry today. It's kinda been how I've felt for a while. I've had a week of days where I'm doing a million things at once and never getting any one thing completely finished.
Since we last talked, much has happened.

• The wedding trip was fine and fun. I missed the hell out of improvising, but family, right? My uncle Brian's house is fucking unbelievable. The neighborhood is fucking unbelievable. Gorgeous older homes built in the 1920's in a non-grid neighborhood. The kick in the nuts is that he told me he paid approximately 1/4th what I will pay for a house here. Oh well. Who wants to live in Ft. Wayne, In?
• Had to fill out a police report because I was getting tons of calls (sometimes more than 12 a day) from Universal Financial Group425 Quadrangle DriveBolingbrook, IL 60440(630) 378-3602. They have since stopped. I think a call from Westmont's finest was enough to do the trick. As a telecom professional, I'm a little put off by how little protection T-Mobile affords me from Nuisance calls. Less than Ameritech/SBC/ATT, and they exemplify minimal effort.
• Speaking of homes. We put a bid on a place we like. It was intentionally low based on the fact that we weren't (aren't) smitten with it, and we know what the guy paid for it and it's been sitting for half a year. We essentially got a big "FUCK OFF" back from him, so we keep looking.
• I ran ito a neighbor who is having a second floor put on his place; essentially doubling the size of his home. He told me his motivation, and his story is almost exactly mine, so I will explore that option as well.
• My Paris trip got pushed back again, putting it on the Last weekend for CSz. I am crushed that I will miss that last show, but I have decided to focus on making new memories in the new space rather than lamenting the fact that I won't be in the onld one on the last night. The one shitty thing is that I had some pretty significant Salvage plans for some of the old wood in that place, and now I won't be there to get it.
• Also found out that I have a lot of moves happening in other sattelite work offices, so my summer is very much in fluxx.
• Got betrayed in a very underhanded way by a friend. Still feeling out how to handle it, but it was quite the drama last week. The phrase, "You made your bed, now you got to Lie in it" keeps playing in my head. For pete's sake, I feel like a 31-year-old Junior High student. I wish people could learn to love themselves more so they wouldn't need to feel constant attention from everyone else.

But Ironhead, What about the plusses?

Simma down, chump! There are some big plusses:

• Lunched it out big over the past couple weeks, since my birthday. Today is the last of three trips to Perry's Deli. This time with The man who titled this email. Previously with my sisters and the freshly-engaged Mr. Scot Goodhart, in that order. Perry's is always delicious and fun, but also very much like an eating contest.
• My daughter is crawling like a maniac and taking a swimming class with mommy and smiling and babbling. She's amazing.
• My bulbs that I netted from the city last year are blooming. The yard is starting to come back.
• I am beside myself with anticipation over this week's shows. I feel a Ric Flair-style meltdown coming on. I hope I can stage it... (if you don't know what this is, it's your loss if you like entertainment at all). Flair has been known to: Strip to his underwear, throw $500 shoes and rolex watches into the crowd, punch his own face until he bleeds, and drop elbows onto his pile of clothes. Not that I'll do any of these things, but you never know.
• Bittersweet is that the previously-mentioned Mr. Chidester is going on the Norwalk Virus Express with Second city. The only good part of that (since it's like tag-team wrestling without a partner) is that I get to book the Karl until his return. I'm hoping to re-kindle some fun.
• I get off at 3 today.

Illigitimate non Carborundum. That's my dad's motto, and is rapidly becoming mine. It's Latin for "Don't let the Bastards Grind you Down".

The slow death of my free time

I have a wedding this weekend, and a 10-day trip to Paris, France SOMETIME this month. They've pushed it back once. They may do it again. I hope they don't, because I will miss the end shows at CSz. CRAAAAP.
The wedding is my cousin's. I want to go. But I want to less now that the rest of my April is fucked. So thatyou can see what I am walking into, here is his bachelor party invite. Bear in mind also that this is in Ft. Wayne, IN.

Yes, the menu features coney island specials, hot carls (sic), and warm blumpkin pie. Tee Hee.

Wrestlemania Wrecap

What a weekend! After we got past the WWE's crappy planning that turned my brother back from 3 autograph signings, and me from the press conference, things heated up quick.
A word on the press conference. WWE rented the Chicago theater that seats 3500+ and 1800+ on the main floor. They only opened the LOBBY for the public, so you can see why hundreds (including my brother Sam who waited 2 hours in line) got turned away. Total bullshit. I wish they'd at least say how many they'd accommodate per event.

Friday as I talked to my brother after he was turned away from some event, and I idly searched for--and found--2 tickets to the previously sold out Hall of Fame ceremony. We were elated. The HOF ceremony is business dress, so we both wore suits. My brother wore a black suit and black tie with a pink shirt in honor of the main-event honoree Bret Hart, the "Pink & Black Attack". I wore my '80s wwf-announcer tie I scored on eBay and a tweed suit. People ran the gamut between t-shirts and tuxes, but most people, including the Ricky Gervais twin that sat next to us wore suits. By twin I mean twin. I stared at that dude, and was fairly certain it WAS Ricky Gervais. It wasn't. Hall of fame inductees included the Blackjacks (Inducted by a personal hero, Bobby "The Brain" Heenan, Verne Gagne, Tony Atlas, Sensational (Scary) Sherri Martel (who stole the show), William the Refrigerator Perry.

The Fridge was an inductee to the Celebrity wing… The WWE champ John Cena inducted him and was booed so loudly that you couldn't hear his induction speech. I know he's unpopular but Chicago hated him all weekend. They were relentless. His speech was actually funny and well done. It was a spoof of the NFL Films voiceovers. On a sidenote, back in '85 my mom actually thought Perry's given name was "The Refrigerator" because "you know how THEIR names can be". You can take the girl out of Indiana, but you can't take the Indiana out of the girl…

Mean Gene Okerlund inducted by none other than the Immortal Hulk Hogan, Eddie Guerrero inducted by Rey Misterio, Jr, Chavo Guerrero, and Chris Benoit, and Bret Hart inducted by the nearly-immortal Stone Cold Steve Austin. Bret spoke for nearly an hour and it was awesome. It was like a commercial for a book that I hope he writes someday. Eddie's induction was not nearly as emotional as I thought it'd be. Kiki and I both wept when they eulogized him on TV. I did tear up when his widow told him she missed him. I missed him.

Saturday morning was something I'll never do again, given the opportunity- The Bacon, Bagels and Biceps brunch (of which I only partook in the bacon). This was billed only as a "brunch with the superstars". It was not. My understanding was that they'd have very few people (like 200) and a superstar at every table. Instead, there were 2000 people and 8 "superstars" seated at the head table. The superstars there included Tyson Tomko (fired from the wwe 2 days later), Trevor Murdoch (one of my favorites, but not an established star), Maria, Sensational Sherri, Road Warrior Animal (The biggest star there), Rob Conway, Orlando Jordan, Mr. Kennedy, and Jamie Noble. It was hosted by Joey Styles and Josh Matthews (an interviewer that sounds like his mouth is full of malted milk balls). Hardly a brunch with the superstars. The food was standard continental breakfast fare, and we DID get a free old-skool 2-bells alarm clock with the wrestlemania logo (big time was the theme). The question and answer was fun, because they were mostly out of character except Murdoch, who was humorously over the top bad guy. Regardless, the event cost $125, and was not nearly worth that.

Wrestlemania!
Wrestlemania delivered from cradle to grave. There was a bonus 12-man over the top battle royal to open with no big names. Animal botched the finish and lost, though I'm pretty sure he was meant to win. The pyrotechnics were unbelievable and the set was made to look like the Sears Tower. Our seats were fantastic in the 100-level opposite the entrance ramp and off to the side.
Next up was the tag titles retained by Kane and the Big show. Nothing spectacular. Maybe that's why they lost them the next night…
Next up was the Ladder match. Sensational. 6 of the most talented athletes in the WWE. Ric flat took 2 major bumps of the top of a ladder, Shelton Benjamin sprang off the top rope and landed perfectly onto a ladder, and RVD won the match guaranteeing himself a world title match at a later date.
Then came the Chris Benoit match where he lost his US title to JBL. Disappointing. I hope they find a good program for Benoit. He's amazing.
Then came the Edge v. Mick Foley hardcore match involving chairs, thumbtacks, barbed wire-covered bats and a flaming table. Decent spectacle, but I hate Edge so much. Not Hate because he incenses me like a good bad guy should, but hate because he's so boring. Plus, they were out-hardcored by Shawn Michaels later in the evening.
Undertaker V. Mark Henry casket match… Pretty standard from both men. The undertaker took a flying leap over the top rope… His entrance had torches and guys in druid robes and was unbelievable. I don't think anybody in the world thought Mark Henry would win, and he didn't.
Shawn Michaels v. Vince McMahon (with Shane McMahon and all 5 members of the Spirit Squad). Bear in mind that this was a match between a 40-year old and a 60-year old. It was among the best matches of the night. It was bloody, Shawn beat down the chairman, his son and 5 other guys before stuffing Vince in a garbage can, onto a table, pulling out a ladder, climbing it, then getting and EVEN Taller ladder and delivering an elbow drop from the ladder onto McMahon in the Garbage can through the table. Whew. A Highspot indeed. McMahon flipped the crowd off as he was taken away on a stretcher.
BookerT and his wife v. the Boogeyman. The boogeyman is indeed the boogeyman. He comes out bathed in smoke all painted up and eats worms. He beat a fantastic wrestler who previously held the world title 5 times. Disgraceful.
Womens Championship Match: Trish Stratus (champ) v. Mickie James (psycho). Chicago puzzled the crap out of the WWE in this one getting CRAZILY behind the challenger (a villain) and hating on the champ. The ending sequence of the match is as follows. Trish had Mickie in a headlock. To get out of said headlock, Mickie grabbed Trish by the crotch. No shit. Stunned Trish dropped the headlock and backed away. Mickie then spread her fingers into a V and licked them. On TV. She then knocked Trish down, got a huge ovation from the crowd, and botched the finishing move. She was met by a chant of "You Fucked Up"…Chicago was relentless… and hit another finish VERY WEAKLY to win the title. Grabbed her crotch and licked her fingers…. I later dubbed this the Cameltoe Clutch ™.
Next was Randy Orton v. Rey Misterio v. Kurt Angle for the Smackdown title. This was a great match put on by three amazing athletes. Angle suplexed both other men at the same time. It was insane. To finish, Rey hit some crazy hurricanrana on Orton and pinned him, causing Kurt to lose his title without getting pinned. Good match, but Rey's 5'3" and 160 Lbs, not much of a heavyweight champ.
Playboy Pillowfight match. Torrie defeated Candace in a match surprisingly nobody cared about. Maybe all the sex came from the crotch grab/finger lick.
World Title Match, HHH v. John Cena (champ). Somehow I knew Cena would win this. I still can't believe how it happened. Both men had terribly elaborate entrances. HHH was raised out of the floor on a throne accompanied by a new video. He came to the ring in a conan the barbarian getup including a crown and chestpiece. Cena had a chicago-gangster themed video and came to the top of the ramp in a trench coat and fedora and fired off a few rounds from a tommy gun into the air. Shit, he could have given everybody herpes for the reaction he got. Chicago hated on him supper bad. I don't know how (or if) they edited the "Fuck You Cena" chants off TV. They hated him so much that they'd boo if he hit HHH. When they exchanged punches, the crowd literally went "Boo!" "Yay!" "Boo!" "Yay!" "Boo!" "Yay!". It was surreal. They were into every move with full volume. I'd never been part of anything like that before. Cena retained, but unbelievably by getting HHH to TAP OUT to his finisher.
One HELL of a night. Cena left with his title intact to a chorus of boos.

Monday night Raw was the next night. It was also amazing. I made a "Trish Fears the CAMELTOE CLUTCH" sign that said "I paid to $ee Murdoch" on the reverse. Murdoch was featured in the taping and pointed at me and my sign. The sign also drew disgusted looks from Trish Stratus several times. Hey, they put it on TV, I just gave it a name. They debuted a new character in Chicago. This samoan guy beat down Ric Flar to ZERO crowd response. Cheers and boos mean the crowd cares. Silence means they don't. People should have hated this guy right away, but nobody cared.
Still, a blast of a weekend. Some guy even took my sign that I'd intended on leaving there.