Stupid indeed

That should have been 'katakana', but I was tired when I wrote that, so forgive me.

Off today with the wife, maybe we'll get to so something fun today. Perhaps we should do some house buying stuff today...

Baka Gaijen!

I'm learning Japanese through a 8 disc set I found at Best Buy. I don't think it's that great so far, as the only thing I've successfully been able to do is play a game where I match tiles of Kanjikana to english words. But I have to say, so far I'm kicking tail! Thus far, I've masters A, E, I, O, U, Wo, Wa, Ka, Ke, Ki, Ko, Ku, Kya, Kyo and Kyu.

Go ahead, quiz me. If you place a tile in front of me with those symbols on it, I can probably tell you the Kanji pronunciation. And hey, that's a small step towards being able to watch anime at it's puriest form.

Gravy!

Paula Dean makes me want to claw my brain out.

If you don't know who she is, she's the 'hostess' of "Paula's Home Cooking" on The Food Network channel. She speaks with a southern Georgia accent, always talks about her father passing away in every freakin' show, pronounces pecan as "Pee-Can" which just grates on my nerves, puts a pound of butter in just about every recipe, talks about her sons like they're the second coming of the Savoir, and uses liquor in just about every show.

Ok, I can't really argue with that one. I'm sure if there was a "Jay's Culinary Abortions" show, I'd think there'd be a lot of beer and liquor recipes. But aside from all that, I'm watching Paula right now (because I'm too lazy to change the channel) and wishing I could force her to cook by the Anthony Bourdan or Alton Brown methods of cooking. And by that, I mean correct.

Today's show, she wrapped a tenderloin in cooking twine and put it on the grill. The Grill! If you're confused as to why this is stupid, think of what happens when you put thread on top of a flame. Provided you're not in an alternate dimension or under the ocean, that thread is going to catch on fire. And that, my friends, makes me want to claw my brain out. Because I just don't see why somebody utilzing bad cooking techniques would be put on the freakin' FOOD CHANNEL!

Ugg...

Goodbye Ervin Fred

Yesterday was my step-grandfather's funeral in Ada. Since I have two step-grandfathers, let me clarify that this was my mother's step-father. My step-mom's father is still alive, so that's the only grandperson I have left. But I digress...
His name was Ervin Fred Koopman, but for the longest time I'd known him as "Urban" Fred. Goofy kid that I was, I didn't know any better. Of his step children, my mom was his favorite according to my uncle Glenn and aunt Peggy. My uncles Bobby and Wayne, both of which were his step-children too didn't attend yesterday. I'm not sure if it's because of old feelings, or if they simply couldn't get away, but I have a feeling that neither will get to Ada any time soon, so that was my last chance to see them for a while I think. Come to think of it, neither of them came to my cousin Brian's wedding either. Hmmm...

Anyway, the preacher doing the services didn't get a whole lot of information about Ervin Fred, so he was basically just blowing smoke most of the time. And just like at my grandmother's funeral, he went off on a tangent of how to serve God and accept Jesus, and that's all fine and good, and if it was Sunday servies, I would gladly accept that and listen intently. But when it's a solumn service like it was yesterday it's not something people take willingly.

But I don't want to gripe about it, what's done is done. I just want to make a statement right here. If I should die anytime soon, I'd like to be buried in New Bethal cemetary in Byng, Oklahoma, preferrably close to my family's spot (near were my mom is placed), and I'd like to have a double plot, so Jennifer can be placed next to me. I would also be honored if somebody would tell whomever officiating the services a little about me, so as not to have the same situation yesterday. I also think that if somebody were to throw their body over my casket, wailing in sorrow, that would be pretty sweet. I'd like to think that I would be missed a bit, as even a man whom I thought nobody loved like Ervin Fred, he had a loving wife, and a couple of friends that spoke up about him, and dare I say their voices were shaky from emotion. I think I'd like to have the same effect on my family.

So farewell on your journey to the next life Ervin Fred Koopman. Now that you've crossed over, I hope my grandmother doesn't kick your ass for being a bad husband to her.

One thing leads to another

Or so sings The Fixx...

Today, I had my parents coming into Owasso to check out a house Jen and I were looking at. I come home from work, feed and play with the pooch for a bit, then go to bed for some quick shuteye before they come up. I keep waking up every 30 minutes to 45 minutes, and I couldn't figure out why. Was I uncomfortable? Was there too much light? Too noisy? It was something I just couldn't put my finger on...
The alarm goes off at 2, a time I had figured would be a good time to get up, shower, and meet mom and dad at the realtors. I come out of the bed room and it's hot. Not Africa hot, but darn close to it. I check the thermostat... 83 degrees! I figure maybe the air conditioner unit froze and will need some time to thaw before it gets to working again. So I take my shower, and by the time I get out, it's jumped to 88 degrees.
Now, as my wife will atest, I'm not the best person that works under pressure. And if I'm hot, I'll get really pissy. Really moody, know I mean? I was trying to dry off, but I'm starting to sweat, even though I just took a shower, and I'm waiting on a call from the realtor, then trying to contact the landlord to let him know I'm about to melt like a candle, and I've only got twenty minutes left until I meet the parents and I got a little snappy with the wife in the process.
Luckily, we're pros at fighting like this, so it just slids off our backs within minutes and we're out the door, with a voice mail to my landlord to call me on my cellphone, as I'll be out looking at houses. Well, the realtor wanted to look up more houses while we were there, and I was feeling like a moron, because the house we were wanting had sold, so I had to find new houses so my dad didn't come up here for nothing. After an hour of looking, we took almost three hours just to check out five houses. It should have taken much less time, but she didn't know the town that well, so we were constantly going in circles, I was getting more and more irked, as I was thirsty, I knew my dog was at the house dying of heat, still haven't heard from the landlord, truck's AC would intermittantly going out, only running on 4.5 hours sleep...

Ahhhh!

Anyway, turns out the landlord called back on the house phoneline instead of the cell, he had called the repairman, but since we weren't there to take the call, we didn't get a time scheduled, so we're probably going to have to wait until Monday, which will suck. Suck big time. I took Jen, mom and dad out to dinner, we eat, part ways and come back home to a dehydrated dog, albeit one glad to see us, and set up all the fans in the house, open the windows, turn on the attic fan and strip down to a t-shirt and boxer shorts and just watched tv in the dark.
I'm sure I'll look back on this as a growing experience, but frankly, experience can kiss my hairy tookus. I'm here at work, a little sleepy, but thankfully cool. I guess I should count my blessings and just shut up.

Damn Freak!

Ok, for those concerned, I no longer have the 'chin dreds' attached, but I am still in possession of them. But Jay, you may ask, why would you do such a thing? Because, I will say, I am a damn freak.

I'll bet my parents are just so proud turning out a kid like me. :D

House-hunting Blues

This house is killing me. It's cluttered, it's messy, it's got outlets that do not have three-prong holes. Basically, it's a dump. The wife and I have been checking out various different houses, and hope to favor the attention of the house fairy. I'm hoping for better style and something newer, and she would rather have something closer to work. Ah, if this is our only fight over house-hunting, I think we're ahead of the pack.

My friend Smitty is getting a house close to my parent's home. It's a pre-fab, but from the looks of it, it's a pretty nice layout, and I can't wait until they get it in position. It would so pleasent just to take a short trip to visit him when I'm home, instead of driving all the way into Ada. True, other friend's are in town, but assuming it's a Sunday night, and I'm all tired from not having slept that day, it's a perfect excuse for staying close to home.

More about the Pixies: They are currently on tour, and I've asked one of my oldest friends (old by how long we've been and stayed friends) to possibly see them with me. He's one of the few people that I know that knows their music, so it would be handy to see their concert with a like-minded individual. This friend would be Sean Fields, and probably the most creative person I know.

At home with the dog

You see, we (my wife and I) have this dog. A beagle to be exact. And she is a perfect angel. For a whole 20 minutes a day. The rest of that, she's a little terror. Whenever I get up from sleeping, or Jen gets home from work, Mandy (the dog) just goes absolutely nuts. She'll get under your feet, the chair, the couch, the coffee table... Generally places she's not supposed to. And she's prone to chew on everything. And I mean EVERYTHING. Fake flowers? Oh yeah, she's chewed them. Wicker chair? You bet. Underside of great-grandmother's chair? You need not ask.

Why do I mention this? I don't know, I guess I need to put something on here. Absolute drival. And that's what this is. Just me babbling. Who knows, maybe I'll having something interesting to say one of these days. But folks, don't look to me for intelligent conversation. I'm the guy that laughs at fart jokes.

I love the Pixies

Ok, I should be a little ashamed to say this, but I love the Pixies. And I don't mean that "I'm a big girl and like Cory Haim" kind of love, I mean I feel a lot of passion for thier music. The group formed sometime in 1985/86 and broke up in 91. They've recently gotten back together for a reunion tour and have even released a DVD to help get the word out. As it is, I've been watching their videos and live performances all night long, and darn if I didn't get this weird feeling of enjoyment whilst watching them.

You know that scene in ID4 (Independence Day) where President Bill Pullman gives his speech about how "today...we celebrate...our Independance!!" and everybody cheers, and I get goosebumps every single time? Well, it's kinda like that. I get the biggest kick out of the Pixies. Much like Barenaked Ladies. Now if only Brave Saint Saturn or Five Iron Frenzy would put out a DVD like these other two bands, I'd be a happy geek.

Which reminds me, I need to pick up the Weezer DVD. It's got 'Keep Fishin' which is an awesome song, and it has Muppets to boot. What's not to love?