New Delli - New Resolve
August 11, 2008
Filed under:The Number Nine
Finally got the new laptop in my hot little hand… um… lap? After the cat fried the one and me and the boy took turns dropping the other, much older, Dell, I finally got something completely pimptastic and awesome. Another in the line of my sure-to-one-day-get-crunched laptops, I’m writing this on New Delli, which was christened by Wife amid much giggling.
The main culprit in bringing about this laptop-induced joy is growing healthier and naughtier by the day…
She attacks my toes and doesn’t seem afraid of my steel-cap boots either. This cat is awesome, and I can’t believe that I just said that as I never thought that such words would ever fall from my mout… uh, keyboard.
So new laptop, and I’ve basically spent the last month or so catching up on all the work I wasn’t doing (or couldn’t do) from the other craptop. Now I’m back in action and things are picking up again. After I met with one client about their piece-o’-crap site and told them that they should get one from yet another client, I was told that if I did indeed sell them a website, I’d get a fat commission. An hour-and-a-half meeting for just under $500 bucks? I’ll take it, and may just ditch this whole SEO game. Heh.
So how are things here? At the risk of sounding like my brother, who gives the same reply every single time I query his happenings during our yearly birthday phone call*,”Same old, same old.”
*My birthday is at the beginning of September and his is the beginning of October. I’ve found that if I call him a few weeks after mine, I can not only give him early birthday wishes but also lay some guilt on about how he’s forgotten mine. Two Birds!
Work is going well enough that I’m actually going into some of my client’s offices and getting some contractor hours in their environments. While I dig the work-at-home gig, it is nice to just sit and work and not be distracted by anything else. It’s also nice making a guaranteed $50/hr for stuff that tends to be a piece of cake for me. Go Hired Gun!
Kids, school, crazy baby. The older two are a-rockin’ at school, despite the fact that they seem to catch every single ailment around, and tend to be good children to have around the home. Meaning, they still occasionally ask if they can do dishes. Seriously, how awesome is that?
The toddlecurl just gets funnier and funnier and I can’t say enough about the wonderful ways you can amuse yourself when you’ve got a child that loves to wear things. She usually finds random bits of string or thread and throws them over her shoulders, prancing around and going “Ooooh-ooooh!” to entice you into complimenting her. As long as it sounds like you’re impressed, you can do this:
And she eats it up. As long as you tell her how pretty she is, you could probably put a live animal on her head. It’s awesome.
Clever thing found some of my arm armour in my office and figured out where it goes. While it may not fit to tell her how pretty armour is, neither does a cereal box really, and I figure I can get away with it.
Speaking of my armour and terribly geektastic news. Now that I’ve been cleared to fight in alternative weapons and run around without all of the protecty-don’t-hurt-yourself stuff like a helmet and gloves, I get to do some really cool stuff at my reenactment nerd sundays.
Bear with me, the setup for this is really quite exciting. We had a ‘feast’ all Viking-style, I competed with the big boys in a dagger combat competition. Of all the nerds that nerd quite medievally (and some of these nerds ARE pretty damn tough for being… nerds) there were only 4 that got to fight that night in front of the 50-odd other Viking folks, and I was one of them. Then, I got awarded my ‘warrior’ status, which means I’m not a newbie noobington anymore, and can fight without supervision and can try new weapons and such, and even train noobs that are new like I was. Then, of all the noobs of the last year, I noobed the best, so they awarded me the Noob of the Year award, which is not its actual name and I should mention that it was named after a member who was a great guy and passed away quite young. I’m actually really quite proud to be the recipient of such an award. Awesome night.
So, the buildup for this was really just to tell you that, on my first day of showfighting training without a helmet, I quite intelligently put my sword in the way of my opponent’s knee. I went to absorb the hit (all stuntman-like), he hit my sword, and it hit my face.
Pretty cool, eh? The bestest and blokiest moment didn’t even happen when I was walking back to the main area with blood running down my face, nor when brother-in-law Sam was attending to the wound while I was acting all “here’s blood in yer eye! This doesn’t bother me at all!” No, the best moment was when Bill (one of the tougher members, coincidentally winner of the Dagger Tournament too) came over with his camera phone and asked Sam if he could not only stop dabbing blood off my face, but give the wound a squeeze so that some ran down my face. Sam hesitated just long enough to make me think that he took that Hyppocratic thing seriously, and Bill got all excited when some started dripping as he snapped away.
It was nice to feel all tough and all, except that it was a bit of minor stupididty in getting hurt and even now, weeks later, I’ve got this lumpy zit-looking scar area. Not so cool anymore.
So, now that I’ve got a new laptop and am on it pretty much sunup until well after sundown, maybe I’ll actually be updating more often. Think?
Yeah. Hahahahahaaa…ahahhahahha… ha.
Smooches all.
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An update for April, no fooling.
April 2, 2008
Filed under:The Number Nine
It’s been a while since I’ve written much for updates. I know that I have my ups and downs of the lines of communication with most folks, we all do, but sometimes I just get in a mode that keeps my head down so flat that I can’t even hear anyone around me going, “Where’s Judd anyway?” Know what I mean?
The business is actually keeping me quite busy. Clients that actually pay on time and new people that want to meet with me because they not only enjoy me but think that I’ll benefit their business and new people that just dig me. It’s all good. I tell you what though, sitting down with the owner/operators of web firms around town is a whole different ballgame when we’re talking business deals and how I can help them and their clients. Time was, the only time I got a chance to sit like that with them was to ask them for a job. That never really worked out as well as this is, to dribble out an extreme understatement.
The power and the freedom is exhilarating, provided I can recognise it, as I’m so used to being nervous and pandering a bit that I forget that I’M in charge here, and I call the shots on how this kind of deal will get handled from my end. I don’t have to cater purely to someone else’s desires to make my life actually happen. I can ease into things, I can give more or give less, I can politely extricate myself from a situation without losing the relationship.
At a meeting last week I realised that I was talking with someone who is so ambitious and confident that, as a potential employer, I would’ve let them talk me into anything just for a decent job. Instead, I got to say what it is that I can do, and how much I charge for it, especially what I wouldn’t do. And he respected me for it.
On top of all that, and I’ve got these ideas that are literally popping my eyes open at night and making me all kinds of charged up. Some are sort of re-inventing the wheel, but will save me time in the long run, and others are fairly revolutionary and exciting. I won’t go into too much detail here, but I’m working on a “tool” for other SEOs out there that will probably get fairly heavily used. It’s THAT cool. Once enough people are using it and I’m improving it and maybe I’ve got more stuff to offer I can start charging for it. Schweet. Passive income and all that. I’m stoked.
The kids are doing great. Both being gone all day at school means that the days are quieter, but now that Jadey’s walking everywhere and having less for naps she’s still keeping us mega-busy. She’s just about freakin’ everywhere. The days go too fast and then BAM houseful of childrens again, especially if we’ve got the nieces here because Ron’s got Uni or we just like ‘em. Gets crazy and the house somehow magically transforms into someplace dirty again. Weird.
Damon is muddling his way along in Year 2, likes most of his classmates but not his teacher so much. She yells too much, he tells us, and it stresses him a bit. Some of his classmates are raw shits, and she yells to keep them from destroying the classroom. He gets treated to a nicer teacher on Fridays, and though she’s vague and distracted and a bit out there, she’s nice. Plus, I go in an hour before school lets out and help teach the little yard apes math (”maths” here, not “math”) and we all have some fun. Combine that with the couple of hours I spend at the Canteen on Tuesday mornings, frying up pikelets (little pancakes, in essence, for snacks) and making sandwiches for lunches, and I think I should be on the payroll.
Georgia is as alien as ever, and loves school with her whole heart. They paint and have fun and sing songs and try and learn a few things, but mostly I think she just enjoys hanging out with children that don’t expect her to be good or make sense when she talks. She does prefer the easier path whether it’s forming a sentence explaining why she’s been eating crayons again or simply drawing on the table instead of the paper that’s just out of reach.
Jade has now gone exclusively to walking, and prefers to wander the house with something in either her hand, her mouth, or both. She’s into everything and has a certain sense of order to the place, usually involving everything scattered on the floor. I’ve watched her meticulously pull every CD off of the stand-up rack and throw them outward in an ever-expanding circle. Then, in the middle of doing this, she’s accidentally knocked over a foot-tall stone figurine. She’s stopped flinging CDs long enough to squat down, grab the figurine by it’s head, and stand it back up again exactly how it was. Then, she’s gone straight back to scattering CDs across the floor. Amazing what happens in her little head.
She’s not talking any “real” words terribly much, but has her little sayings and frequently tries to mimic things that we say. She’ll say “thank you” or “ta” when you give her something (and after you say it first) and bursts into “Hi! Hiiiiii!” when she hears the screen door open. One day she frantically flapped and squealed “Hi Daddy! Hi!” when she heard me come in. THAT kind of thing is what changes your life, and reminds you why you became a parent in the first place.
Lest I forget, the biggest news of all. We’ve got a kitten now. Yep, Jo’s allergic to cats, but not the kind that has this kind of fur, or not when they’re kittens or some such like that. Like most things that change our lives around here, it sort of just happened, and we move on with our lives forever adjusted.
It was last Friday, and we were sort of scrambling trying to get dinner ready and keep rambunctious children from breaking each other and valuables. They were just hyper and I can’t remember why, but all 3 where going apeshit and dinner was being sort of clooged, and there was stress in the air about something else that I don’t really remember and then “MEW.”
Jo says something about a kid’s toy or the TV or something and then “MEW” again. At the front door. I tend children and dinner as Jo investigates. Then, comes back about 10 minutes later with an emaciated furball that looks like he’s found heaven snuggled in her boobs. I remember thinking that I could certainly relate, but that I don’t make Jo sneeze uncontrollably and hive out. We talked about it, and though our next door neighbour Ross had tried to unload kittens on us a month or so previous and we’d turned him down because of Jo’s allergy and such, we decided to see what will happen this time.
What’s happened is, we’ve all fallen in love. Yes, even me. I couldn’t help it. He/She’s like a cat, only awesome. I get little visits on my shoulder while I type on the laptop and it purrs like a runaway tractor whenever you’re near it. I call it “it” because we don’t know it’s sex yet. Cats suck like that. I’ll post pictures as soon as he doesn’t look like he’s a flea-bitten poo-machine. Which he is.
We couldn’t figure out a name either. We both looked at the animal and, like we had most of our lives, just needed to look long enough to figure out their name. To have them “tell” us. I couldn’t place it. We wanted “Fletch” because we could both “hear” an “F” name, but it wasn’t working. Then, Jo called me while I was out and said the kitten told her his/her name was “Friday”. She allowed that she wasn’t crazy about the name, not as original or imposing as we’d wanted, but that was the cats name. I’d been sensing “Fr” names too, and that was surely it.
Welcome Friday to the Exley Clan.
This next bit is hard to talk about, but I want to get it out there to encourage people to do the right thing.
Some neighbour dogs, American Staffies (the kind that are bred to be stupid and kill other dogs) got loose the other night, and jumped on the kids and caused various mayhem while they were at the park across the street. Kids came home, Damon in tears because dogs scare him and one of them bashed into his face while “kissing” him. I went to round them up and find out whose they were, as our little circle of homes is fairly close-knit, and spotted one of Friday’s siblings wandering in Ross’s driveway. I didn’t get to him in time, as he ran away somewhat skittishly, and the bigger dog grabbed him.
I yelled, I screamed, and that goddamed dog ran playfully across the park, whipping it’s head around with that poor kitten in it’s mouth. By the time it stopped, I had my hand around a stick about the size of a broomstick. I swung with all my might right into the side of that beast’s head, a blow that snapped the stick, and it dropped the kitten. It barely blinked at me, backed up a few steps, and gave me a look like it genuinely didn’t know it was doing anything wrong.
I picked up the kitten and walked it over to Ross, telling him that it’s back is f***ed and that I was getting some rope. I tied the dogs up and went to check on the kids. Horrible, watching something like that, and some of our Asian neighbours had both boys, 4 and 6, outside watching the entire thing, the 4-year old crying inconsolably.
Dogs like that are built and bred for one thing, and are good for nothing else. The owners came before the Council Ranger got the dogs, and they felt awful about what happened, as you would. I told them though, that this kind of thing can’t be happening and, while it wasn’t my call, I was going to tell the Ranger exactly what happened and my opinion of where dogs like that belong. I didn’t tell them that, were this Montana, I’d have put a bullet right between the eyes of that bigger dog. In a heartbeat. And I hate killing. I haven’t killed anything in years and didn’t even have the stomach for hunting. I would’ve done it though, if that were my cat, and I wouldn’t have lost a wink of sleep over it’s death. I lost at least half a night’s over that kitten. I mean, what if that were one of my children? I get teary just thinking about it.
So, that’s the end of my little PSA, where I tell you not to own dogs that are built for killing. If you’re lonely and want some home protection, get a poodle or something like that. They’ll yap their heads off and wake everybody up. If you need a Staffie or a Pit Bull to chew on intruders, keep in mind that there is always the potential, nay the likelihood, that they’re going to chew on more innocents than guilties. It’s just not worth it.
Alright, I’ve got to get back to work. I just wanted to give everyone an update on life and all it’s assorted funs and happenings.
Things will be getting busier with the business and such, and hopefully a bit more structured, so that I can have more time to write and post pictures as well as have more inclination to keep in touch with you all because I’m not stressing over money and procuring clients.
Smooches kids, love and hugs to you and your pets if you got ‘em.
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My camera and my phone… camera have some pictures for you
September 29, 2007
Filed under:The Number Nine, Lotso Pics
I’ve been writing. I’ve been working. I’ve been a whirlwind of activity with Wife, trying to get this place cleaned up so that my mom doesn’t come here next week and think that we live in complete squalor. We can fool ‘er, I’m sure of it, long as the kids keep quiet about the poo we keep under the sofa.
Right then, here are some pictures of cuteness, as we haven’t taken nor shared near enough on here recently. These are just random and about the house, much like my life… heh.
Ignore the booger trail, Jo leaned in and snagged it right after I took this.
See? GONE. As pissed as she gets about having her nose wiped (I’m not a huge fan either), she bounces back with the Happy pretty quick. She’s telling you about it, you see.
HAHAHHAHHAHHAAAAaaaaa…. hahhaahahhahahhahahaaaa…. oh man. I don’t know where I was at the time, but Jo took this. I don’t know what to say. I mean, she’s in a bucket.
A bucket. Baby. In a bucket.
Classic.
I’m dyin’ here. Ahahahhahaaahahahahahaahaaaa… aw gawdam.
Check out the expression on her face. “I’m in a BUCKET. Jeezus you guys… a bucket.”
I just randomly snapped these whilst we were enjoying yet another fine culinary creation* from my wonderful wife. Jadey was just being too damn cute and Jo was remarking, as we do, that we don’t take enough pictures of her and these days will be past before we know it. Guilt me enough and I’ll drop whatever I’m doing, so the smokiness you see in some of these pics is the steam rising off my dinner as it cools.
*Fellas, one of the secrets, maybe not THE secret, but one of them, for True Happiness… marry a great cook. No, not a good cook, a great cook. You’ll be amazed at how much joy a great meal brings you at the end of a day. Don’t worry if you’re married to not a great cook, YOU can always learn.
Jo is dangling a green bean for Reachy McReacherton to see if we can bait her accordingly. Those are her “want it” hands, by the way.
If you do it right, she looks just like a baby bird. Except without the pointy beak and such. The “want it” hands get placated and her gob just gapes. It’s brilliant.
SCORE! She’s a fan, but mostly of the garlic and butter probably, and not so much the chewing thing that’s hard to do without teeth.
And then we took it away and had THE NERVE to actually be eating our own meals. So expectant! Obviously, we were remiss.
These next shots were all taken with my phone. My Phone. My. PHONE.I can’t begin to tell you how depressing it is that my new mobile phone takes better pictures than my digital camera. The fact that one is about 5 years old and the other is about 5 weeks old is one thing, but technology shouldn’t move that fast. It just ain’t fair.As it’s new, I’ve been playing with it a lot, mostly at the parks and school and such on the way home from picking up the kids. I’m either doing that or being a Giant Monster, bent on chewing and eating the World’s Tastiest Children. The phone plays music though. Not the Casio-sounding crap from the 80’s either. Real music, that I copied onto it from my laptop. They TALK to each other, you see. I think the laptop’s been saying some dodgy things too, cos my phone won’t show any naughty pictures. I keed.
This is a park situated between the cousins house and ours, a favourite spot for many of the going-home-after-school kids and one of the many delays we face on our trek homeward.
Oh, random interjection time. Here’s some cute video that I took after we got home with cousins. The obviously didn’t know I was there for a bit, that’s why it’s so cute.
Me and the Bug just hanging out while the kids are on the merry-go-round. I’m ignoring the cries of “Push us! Just one?! Pleeeeeeaaaaaaaassssssssse!??!?!??” (only because I already have FIVE times) and Jadey’s discovering how leaves crumble in your hand, but not like dirt does. I can’t vouch for it in recent experience, but I don’t think they taste the same either, though she has yet to comment on that.
Dames checking out what we’re doing. His little mini-craters from the Chicken Pox are still scabbing over in these pics (as are Georgia’s) and, unbeknownst to us, Jadey’s foulness of mood was due to her coming down with them. WHOOHOO, Chicken Pox! Gah.
My boy. Wearing my hat. His little kettlehead fits in it quite well and he’s just as big an Eagles fan as his dad. The smarminess of the look on his face is due to him being terribly proud that he can see the picture’s preview on the other side of my phone as I aim it at him.
“Smile.”
“I can see the picture dad, I can totally see it.”
“That’s great, SMILE.”
“‘Cept it moves around all slow and kind of funny.”
“Stellar. Smile goddamit.”
“It’s on the other side of your phone, on the little screen part.”
“Do you have any idea how much, at right this very moment, you suck?”
“Haha Daddy! YOU do!”
Quality time.
She’s in my hat too, though I only lent it to her to ride the springhorse on the playground. Whenever she gets a chance, she shoves a piece of grass in her mouth and chews it rurally.
I can’t help but picture her in a field watering some 3-foot husk-covered pods, like that rockabilly in the Toohey’s Extra Dry commercials, when she proclaims herself to be a “kid farmer”. I know what she means, but I giggle anyway and ask her what kind of crop she’ll have this year and will they be better at eating their dinner than she is.
That’s all I’ve got for now, more later most likely.
As for Life, things are chuggin’ along. Don’t have a book yet, haven’t gone back to school yet, and haven’t hit my first million yet.
BUT, I have a cute little fat baby on my lap, a beautiful (if not somewhat ditzy) blonde who randomly wanders in and kisses me sweetly on the cheek (who’s having a birthday Tuesday), an awesomely handsome chocolate-eyed dude (who is not only picking up more and more of my accent, but has adopted enough of my mannerisms that the school’s lunch lady’s call him “Chip of the old block”), and a hotified piece of hotness of a hottie, who walks around being so hot that when I tell her how hot she is she only gets HOTTER. She’s cut most of her hair off and somehow got even hotter too. Have I mentioned how hot my wife is?
She’s also the best time I’ve ever had, and we giggle at least hourly and laugh out loud at least once a day (that noisy laugh, that catches you off-guard and can even be considered somewhat embarrassing-see:my dad’s laugh). That may not sound like much, but if you really think about it, I bet you go day here and there without laughing out loud. Hell, I had some guy at a party the other day tell me that I made him laugh more than he had in the last 3 months, and that was only because I threatened someone that I would pee on their leg if they didn’t treat their girlfriend right.
Like I said, I’ve been writing and I’ve been working lots. The bidness will pick up, I believe, and we’re going to be all good. I might even have a book together one of these days and I’ll be sure and get a signed copy to all you guys. Except for YOU, the one in the town with the weird name, I don’t even know why you read this crap. HA.
Smooches.
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