Toot Toot

Don’t mean to toot my own horn . . . but, I set up a room with some audio visual gear yesterday for a meeting that the hotel and their corporate folks are having today. As I stood in the room making sure presentations were working properly my set up got some nice compliments. It’s really not that big of a deal but when the director of sales is in the room and he is one of the reasons my company hired a different director it was kind of satisfying to show him what he’s losing. Not that it matters anymore because I hope the Nashville Doubletree will be better fit.

One other presenter was from the Renaissance Asheville (I’m not sure what her position there is). My company just listed a director position there that is open. Unfortunately, I can’t throw my hat into that ring because the Elder Extroverted Holy One has one more semester. Aargh! She wasn’t too happy with my idea of me taking that job to set up the homestead back in western North Carolina. Especially with the Young Extroverted One and a new human and school. With being at the Doubletree I’m kind of obligated to stick around for another year.

Oh well, <vague t.v. reference> “Missed it by that much.” <anyone get it?>

Movin’ On Up (or across town really)

My days here are numbered. The new director of event technology will start next week and for the next several weeks I will help him transition into this position. I’ll be training him until the Elder Extroverted Holy One brings forth the second child. During the delivery I will be in the corner of the room with an epidural and copious amounts of drugs to help us get through the delivery. With all of my saved up vacation time I will be able to stay home with the family and help with everything. It will end up being some great daddy-Young Extroverted One time as the new one learns what kind of crazy world it was forcibly brought into.

After the holidays and the new year I should be starting here. Where I will, hopefully, be the official director of event technology. So, I’m slowly finding my work getting me closer and closer to our home in the east Nashville area. Also, it puts me closer to the Sommet Center and the embattled Nashville Predators whose tickets I still can’t afford (not because they’re outrageously priced but we’re outrageously broke) but would go to every single game if given the chance.

Speaking of hockey, I got the YEO signed up for the G.O.A.L. program hosted by the Preds and Delta Dental of Tennessee. She’s excited about it or I’m excited about it for her. Maybe I’ll just go as her and get some ice time! Our equipment fitting session is this Monday and, unfortunately, we have to drive to the Southern Ice Arena in Franklin for this fitting and all 4 sessions of the program. Looking at past G.O.A.L. programs we missed the ones at the Centennial Sportsplex. Which would’ve been way closer. But then I think about the sacrifices that hockey greats’ parents made to drive their wunderkinds to their respective games and practices uphill both ways in the deep snow all across the Canadian wilderness and figure it’s not so bad driving down to Franklin except maybe for the exceptionally poor drivers the most Tennesseans are.

Blockage

I can never get started. I have ideas of what to write about and on occasion I’ll write it down in my little moleskine so I don’t forget. But, then, I usually forget I wrote it down. I always have the notion to be disciplined about writing everyday. I wake up two hours earlier than I really need to just to have some of my precious introverted time which I could be using to throw something up on the screen. One of my problems, I believe, is that I read your blogs in my reader and thus, either, run out of time or lose my inspiration because you guys are much better writers than I.

My other problem is that I have a bit stage fright when it comes to people actually reading what I wrote. I really enjoy writing and I enjoy that you folk(s) actually read what I have to say even if it isn’t that important. But, it’s that inner critic or censor gets in the way of what little creativity or motivation I may have. I suppose it’s time to dust off my copy of The Artist’s Way and actually work through it this time. I started it almost ten years ago but never really worked through it.

I think that critic/censor won that round . . .

Parental Angst

The Elder Extroverted Holy One and I are having our second child in a MONTH! Um, wow. Numero two-Oh. The parasite’s room isn’t even ready yet. Who are we kidding? That thing is probably going to sleep with us. I suppose it’s time to turn our room into one big mattress. Ooo, a padded room sounds even better! Geez, the EEHO doesn’t even have a real job. I sure don’t get paid like I have a real job. Where did I leave my Xanax? Maybe I’ll have to start making plasma donations on my way to work. There always seems to be a line there it must be somewhat profitable. That might have to be my second job, trading my precious bodily fluids for money. I don’t know how multiple child families do it when we can barely handle one very precocious, extroverted child. I think my head’s going to explode.  Where did I leave my beer?


Life is Just a Tire Swing That Done Blowed Up

Parts of my day yesterday were interesting so I thought I’d share my good times.  On my way to my doctor’s appointment I was driving out of the parking garage at work.  I tend to take corners fairly close because other drivers love to speed through the garage taking wide turns.  However, this time I take a corner a little to close and scrape the pathfinder’s back passenger-side door.  It also left a nice bulge in the sidewall of my back left tire. Not good but wasn’t flat yet so I kept my eye on it through the day.

Doctor’s visit went well.  I think my beer baby is growing and is on track to take over The Elder Extroverted Holy One’s baby gut any day now.  I guess my doctor doesn’t think I’m morbidly obese or he would’ve said something. Right?

I get back to my car and the bulge is still there but the tire is still not flat so I head back to work.  After which I pick up the Young Extroverted One and head towards home.

The bulge finally gave up on Ellington Parkway.  So, I pull over.  I’ve changed a number of tires in my day but I have never had to change a tire in the pathfinder.  Sweet.  I, finally, remembered where the jack, wrench and other stuff were kept, but, I had no clue as to how to get the spare tire down from under the car.  At least I used it as a good learning opportunity for the YEO for I believe changing tires is one of many important skills females should know (unless they don’t want to).  So, here we are on the side of extremely busy Ellington, me looking through the car’s instruction book trying to figure out how to get the damn spare tire down from under the car and YEO asking me billions of questions. I tried not to play the men-don’t-read-instructions (truthfully, I usually don’t until I break something) card because, as parents, the EEHO and I are not into the specific gender roles game that society plays on kids.  I find the information I need and we move to the back of the car and lower the tire.  I then realize that I have the jack in the wrong place and can’t put on the spare tire because the car is not high enough.  So, I have to lower the jack and move it.  In the lowering process the open passenger door gets lowered into the guardrail and removes a decorative side thingy (and that is the technical term I saw it in the instruction book).  WOOHOO!  I am way jovial at this point.  Hey, at least I’m consistent with damaging only one side of the car!

I think we’ll have to change more tires for the YEO to really get it and for me to show how to do right.  She did get to raise the chain that holds the spare tire back up into the holding position.  She loved that doing that skill.

Holier Than Thou (or at least Holier Than Me)

Well, the Elder Extroverted Holy One just got a little holier. Back in August(?) she took ordination exams that are required by the PC(USA) to be called and ordained as a minister. After taking those things she had to sit around for a couple of months while Presbyterian monks locked in caves somewhere in Scotland read what she wrote. Apparently, they like what she wrote because she passed!

Now, she just needs to make it through this semester carrying a child (on the inside) and then make it through next semester carrying a child (on the outside) to graduate. Then some awesome church will want to call her to be their minister and by default I’ll end up being the churches a/v geek.

Blogged with Flock

Survivor Queen?!? HUH?

I had to revert back to looking through my moleskine to get some writing mojo. I just came across a little entry I wrote while I was up in Schaumburg, IL for some sales training.

It must have been my second night in my hotel room because I got to the hotel way too late on the first night and I just passed out. But, it was 11:00PM and I was channel surfing through the small amount of channels this hotel had and came across Oprah. I have no idea why Oprah was on at 11 o’clock at night. Maybe they have a 24-hour Oprah channel in the Chicago-land area? I really don’t remember why I stopped on this channel but Oprah gave a little tease of what was up next after the commercials.

She was talking about survival and what you would do in certain situations to survive. I thought to myself, “Self? This should be pretty cool.” Considering I like surviving in all situations and the guest is probably someone cool like Les Stroud. Do you know who it was? LEEZA GIBBONS?!?!? WTF? Did she recently become the ‘survival queen’ and I didn’t get the memo? Needless to say, I was too aghast to continue watching. So, I ended up watching something else as I fell asleep dreaming of being stuck on the roof of a high rise inferno as Leeza swooped down to save me. Good times. . .

Death Throes of the Predators

Let me start by saying I am a hockey fan.  While I have some favorite teams (Predators, Hurricanes, Maple Leafs) I really do love the sport.  At the same time I understand a little bit about the business world.

I went to the Predators vs. Flames game on Saturday night with my buddy, Stuart.  There were many empty seats in the building.  Heck, there were empty sections!   We could have moved down to sit on the glass if we wanted to.  If Nashville (and by Nashville I mean regular fans and most of all local business owners) can’t fill an arena on a Saturday night against a team that has regularly gone to the Stanley Cup playoffs then we don’t deserve to have a hockey team.  And if they move I might have to uproot the Extrovert/Introvert family and head north!

Okay, I feel a little better now. I needed to get that off of my chest.