Anyway, we kind of blew off the doctor, realizing that she was being completely unrealistic- kind of like how she told us the baby had to start drinking milk out of a cup instead of formula out of a bottle, despite the fact that she was only having two bottles a day and milk made her poop turn in to some sort of horrific colon-borne monster in the middle of the night. Now, about three months later, I am happy to report that the baby has not only caught up to her super-genius 1-year-old peers, but has taken a step further and created her own language. Take that you med school know-it-all's.
Along with such English favorites as "doggy," "kitty," "hi," and "bye" the baby has created and entirely new set of words and expressions that she uses to carry on epic conversations with herself and the inanimate objects around her. I kind of picture it being like what the characters on Family Guy who can't understand Stewie would hear. Written out, I imagine the language to look an awful lot like keyboard jumble: "dginnghoasbsfiwwgebjaslkhf" That sort of thing. But in her head it must make perfect sense because she carries on conversations all day long.
Evidently she also thinks she is extremely funny, because more often than not she ends up laughing through a portion of the conversation.
"Diglingdignling gid... HAHAHAHAHA!"
Sometimes, just for fun, I try to speak back to her in the language. This usually inspires laughter and, on occasion, a response- but that is rare. I am pretty sure she just does it to humor me and then probably goes back to making fun of me to her tooth brush, or the smelly pink bunny that lives in the back seat of my car. Video to follow soon.
Things that Happen to me at Work
It has been cold and rainy here for the past few days, so park trips have been kind of out of the question. Fortunately, I had a pretty interesting night at work last night, so I can fill the void at the bottom of the blog with that.
In the two weeks since I have switched from working Wednesday nights to Tuesdays I have been pretty lucky. The Celtics have played playoff games both nights so I have had a certain level of guaranteed business, but it hasn't been crazy enough for me to miss watching the game. Steady business over a five hour span nets just as much money as crazy business over a two hour span, it is just much less miserable to handle.
Last night was actually shaping up to be a pretty hoppin' night at the Beer Works when at around 6 p.m., with a full bar, a transformer blew down the street and knocked out our power. Now, most logically run businesses in the area have back up generators, but I work at Beer Works- a place where our owner is more concerned with how many dish washing racks we have for dirty glasses behind the bar than he is about making customers happy, so we, of course, do not have such a luxury.
Because of this, I was forced to continue working in the dark for about two hours- something that could have been a bit easier if someone had not painted over the skylights in the building with black paint, but that is another rant for another time. Once I got past the initial aggravation of not having a generator and watching most of the other useless employees essentially shut down like robots when they couldn't see, working in the dark wasn't so bad. It actually created a more festive atmosphere for customers, and actually improved tips by about 10 percent. It was almost a perfect situation, as we were getting ready to close around 8- after I had made a decent amount of money already- but just as the manager was sending a bunch of people home, the lights came back on and we had to continue working. No worries, though, it wasn't like I didn't expect to be there anyway.
Shortly after the power came on I took a short break to go charge my cell phone in my car. I have a very old phone, made in 2005, and the battery capacity isn't very strong. I actually ordered a new battery (on EBAY, from China for $1 because the hack cell phone companies don't make that battery any more) but that turned out to be just a cheap Chinese knock-off that didn't work right (what a surprise). In any event, I went out to the car, charged the phone long enough to check my messages and return a phone call and came back inside. I would say it was about ten minutes later I was standing at the cash register punching in all of the manual credit card slips from the power outage when I felt something hot against my leg. I moved back to see if I was leaning on something, but couldn't find anything. Then I started smelling burning plastic. I reached in to my pocket, pulled out my again-dead cell phone and immediately realized where the smell was coming from. The back of my phone was extremely hot and it was smoking. I took the battery cover off to find that the top portion of the battery had melted to the back of the phone. I looked at my pants to find a small singe in the inside of my pocket. Somehow, my battery had short circuited and briefly caught fire.
The best part about this situation is that when I got home I swapped out the faulty Chinese battery and the phone still works. It is now over 15 hours since the fire and the phone still smells like burned plastic. I am going to keep using it, though. You know why? Because cell phones are a racket and I refuse to buy a new one unless I have to. I even took an old Motorola from the lost and found at work in case mine bursts in to flames again. See if I give you another $100 for a crap phone again, T-Mobile. This is war. WAR!
In the two weeks since I have switched from working Wednesday nights to Tuesdays I have been pretty lucky. The Celtics have played playoff games both nights so I have had a certain level of guaranteed business, but it hasn't been crazy enough for me to miss watching the game. Steady business over a five hour span nets just as much money as crazy business over a two hour span, it is just much less miserable to handle.
Last night was actually shaping up to be a pretty hoppin' night at the Beer Works when at around 6 p.m., with a full bar, a transformer blew down the street and knocked out our power. Now, most logically run businesses in the area have back up generators, but I work at Beer Works- a place where our owner is more concerned with how many dish washing racks we have for dirty glasses behind the bar than he is about making customers happy, so we, of course, do not have such a luxury.
Because of this, I was forced to continue working in the dark for about two hours- something that could have been a bit easier if someone had not painted over the skylights in the building with black paint, but that is another rant for another time. Once I got past the initial aggravation of not having a generator and watching most of the other useless employees essentially shut down like robots when they couldn't see, working in the dark wasn't so bad. It actually created a more festive atmosphere for customers, and actually improved tips by about 10 percent. It was almost a perfect situation, as we were getting ready to close around 8- after I had made a decent amount of money already- but just as the manager was sending a bunch of people home, the lights came back on and we had to continue working. No worries, though, it wasn't like I didn't expect to be there anyway.
Shortly after the power came on I took a short break to go charge my cell phone in my car. I have a very old phone, made in 2005, and the battery capacity isn't very strong. I actually ordered a new battery (on EBAY, from China for $1 because the hack cell phone companies don't make that battery any more) but that turned out to be just a cheap Chinese knock-off that didn't work right (what a surprise). In any event, I went out to the car, charged the phone long enough to check my messages and return a phone call and came back inside. I would say it was about ten minutes later I was standing at the cash register punching in all of the manual credit card slips from the power outage when I felt something hot against my leg. I moved back to see if I was leaning on something, but couldn't find anything. Then I started smelling burning plastic. I reached in to my pocket, pulled out my again-dead cell phone and immediately realized where the smell was coming from. The back of my phone was extremely hot and it was smoking. I took the battery cover off to find that the top portion of the battery had melted to the back of the phone. I looked at my pants to find a small singe in the inside of my pocket. Somehow, my battery had short circuited and briefly caught fire.
The best part about this situation is that when I got home I swapped out the faulty Chinese battery and the phone still works. It is now over 15 hours since the fire and the phone still smells like burned plastic. I am going to keep using it, though. You know why? Because cell phones are a racket and I refuse to buy a new one unless I have to. I even took an old Motorola from the lost and found at work in case mine bursts in to flames again. See if I give you another $100 for a crap phone again, T-Mobile. This is war. WAR!
How do two white guys have so much soul?
My favorite band in history, the Black Keys, have a new album out. If you like bluesy rock music with a lot of soul, listen to it.
I think that this is a case where you “have to” buy a new cell phone. dude, it caught fire.
ReplyDeletebut it still works! if i get third degree burns on my leg i can sue like that lady who got burned by mcdonald's coffee
ReplyDelete