Posts Tagged ‘Me’


On being less of me to love…

January 24, 2011

So, those whom have had the (mis)fortune to meet me in person (all two of you who read this) will have no doubt noticed that I am not the smallest of individuals.  For the vast majority of people who have not met me, newsflash:  I am not the smallest of individuals.  I am, in fact, one of the larger people I know.

I could wax poetic and say it’s not my fault, it’s genetics, it’s whatever-the-in-vogue-excuse-is-this-week, but bottom line is that I likes me some grub.  Portion control is, always has been, and most likely will always be my bane.  I was a powerlifter early in life, and never really lost that appetite, even after I stopped competitively lifting.  Add to that my dad is an executive chef, and SWMBO is a cookbook author in the making, well, I am certainly not denied any opportunity to indulge.

I must point out at this time that there was a point in my life, about 8 years ago as of this writing, where I was running 2+ miles a day, 5 days a week (we have treadmills and ellipticals at work) and consuming about 1600 calories a day.  And I weighed about 350 pounds.  This is what the body of a fat man looks like in starvation mode.  I plateaued there and have subsequently slid backwards, albeit slowly, ever since.  Needless to say, I’m not happy where I am.  This must change.

I’m not going to turn this into a fitness or diet blog or anything like that.  I am going to use this as a medium to start charting my progress.

SWMBO and I do not own a scale.  I’m OK with this on principle, but logistically, it poses a few challenges, and one opportunity.  I have access to a scale at the gym in the office.  Using only one scale, at least I don’t have to worry about calibration.  As of 10 minutes ago, I was out of range for that scale.  In total honesty, that means I’m probably in excess of 440 pounds.  My immediate goal is to get into range here.  I hope to do so in two weeks.

To that, I’ve acquired a copy of The 4-Hour Body by Tim Ferriss.  At almost 600 pages, it’s quite a read.  I’m not finished, but a lot of what I’m reading makes sense.  As someone who’s been trapped in the starvation mode plateau before, the one-day-off-six-days-on seems promising.  The slow-carb approach jives with what I know about the glycemic index, and the whole concept of MED (read the book) makes sense.  I jogged a quarter mile (180 seconds-ish) while I was in the gym failing to weigh myself.  That was my second trip in today, and I’ll make one more before I leave work today.

I don’t know where this is going.  I’m not setting a hard end-state goal – I carry a lot of muscle and skeleton around; I’ll probably never see the underside of 200 pounds, and I like being able deadlift more than half my body weight.  Still, I view any progress in this arena as good.

 Look for an update in two weeks, we’ll see how I did.


Motivation to Move…

November 22, 2010

It has come to the attention of your humblest of scribes that a particular house may be available for purchase. Said house would be, if my family were to have one, as close to being called our ancestral home as any. It not the oldest home to have passed through our hands, but it is the one that holds the most memories, and it has the most to offer.  1,613 sq. ft ranch with 2 beds and 2 baths on top of a full basement with a walk-out garage, a seperate 3-car detached garage, all on 3 acres of land in the city, butting up to the Metro Park.  The front yard alone is larger than my whole lot now.

This was the house of my great-grandfather (GGF, for now), whom I had the rare fortune of being part of my life until barely a decade ago. He passed away at age 97 in 1998. In what should have been his golden years, a certain unscrupulous bastard took advantage of my GGF, to the tune of a new Buick, $90,000 in signature bonds and the house.   The bastard either forged the signatures or coerced my great-grandfather to sign the papers placing the house for sale, then he short sold it to move it quick, and pocketed the proceeds. My father had power of attorney, and my GGF was in the process of being declared non compos mentis (when 90 years old you reach, think and remember as well, you will not, eh?)  But because he undersold the house so quickly, he got away with it before the rest of the family was in a place to do anything about it.   GGF had to spend the last years of his life in one of the most revolting care facilities I’ve ever seen because of the bastard.

The bastard is now dead, and I swear, if I ever find where he’s buried, I will drop trou and take a huge, steaming diarrhetic shit on his grave.  This is one of very few things that I and my father agree wholly upon.

So, some fourteen years later, after at least two different owners, a good deal of renovation and subsequent disrepair, the house is back on the market.  For about half of what it should appraise for.  Needless to say…


Now, SWMBO and I bought our house in 2006.  Very late in 2006.  We just had our 4-year anniversary of buying the house, actually.  Right after that, some asshat bankers decided that they would screw us all and drop my property value, to the point where I’m upside down on my current mortgage.  I’m not behind any payments, but owing more on a house than it’s worth is quite disheartening.  It also puts me in a difficult position to buy my GGF’s house.

So last night, I started looking at numbers.  What I would need to make owning the house a reality.  I’m behind on my student loans, but I’m catching up there.  I can’t really do anything until I am caught up, though.  I need to be able to put a real down payment on the house, and I need to do some repairs to our current house to do anything real with it.  Bare minimum, I need about $30,000 to make this work.  If I save everyhting coming in that isn’t allocated (paying bills or buying groceries, basically) I can scrape up about $5,000 by April.  I have maybe $1000 in a 401k that I could pull, but past that, I’m tapped.  If anyone needs their computer fixed for cheap, let me know, ok?

Suffice it to say, I have gone into full on penny pinch mode.  Every dollar that goes out hurts.  SWMBO and I are basically a single income househod, at least until her book gets published.  Consequently, it feels like a lot of dollars are going out.

Another thing I’m looking at doing is selling off some assets.  I have a nice entertainment surround sound system that is collecting dust.  I have disk jockey rig that’s doing the same.  I have a box of computer parts that has probably $500 in marketable RAM just sitting on my bench.  And I also have a few guns that I’m looking to sell.

My last recourse of action is to ask my parents for either a loan or outright gift of some of the money to buy the house.  I hate the prospect of doing that, but I think that they would like to see that house back in our family as much as I would.  Add to that the fact the my father’s income is going to roughly double in January, I might actually get something if I asked…

So look forward to more updates here.  I’m trying to get better about posting more (I have a post rattling around in my head as to why) and this will serve as a nice archive of what I’ve done to buy this house.


TS… Aaaagent Man, TS… Aaaagent Man!

November 19, 2010

So, when I started this, I never promised to be all regular and stuff.  You want regular, go buy some Metamucil. SWMBO (She Who Must Be Obeyed) is the better of this pair at the bloggity-bloggity thing, even going so far as to try to get published.  My attempts here are for more…  personal reasons and/or moral support.

Still, I admit.  Been a while.  I do need to get better than this.

So what should I rant about today?  I know.  I’ll jump on the bandwagon of the last few weeks.  Ye Olde TSA.  I have a unique perspective on this, both as a person of not inconsiderable size and as a recent business traveler.  I have to admit that in my most recent foray into Mordor (Chicago) that I only saw one person get pornogra-fied, and no one seemed to be getting, ahem, extra-friendly.  In perspective, I watched probably 200 or so people go through that security line.  Mathematically, that means there’s one half of one percent chance that I could have been subject to the ‘enhanced security procedures.’

Now, allow me to fantasize.

Had I been selected, what would I have liked to do?

I’d have asked for both procedures.

You may have remembered, I mentioned that I carry a little extra baggage when I fly.  Or walk.  Or sit.

Big Butt

To the point where I’m relatively certain that those TSA guys really don’t want to look at nudie pictures of my corpulence.  Hell, even I don’t want to look at myself when I get out of the shower.  The whole idea is to make this venture even less appealing for the TSA people than it is for I, their intended passenger victim.  This goes doubly so for the guy that’s gotta put his hand in the perilous danger of personal injury from the pat down.  (Note to self, on my next flight, I need to route by the nearest Chipotle for my pre-flight burrito with extra beans and peppers.)  The agents themselves are already starting to dislike these new procedures, I think a little more motivaiton is all that’s needed to add a little more pressure form the inside and start an all-out coup or revolt.  How revolting!

(See what I did there?)

As a side note, I should mention that under normal circumstances, I’m fine with the prospect of someone jingling my bells, but I usually prefer them to be cuter, and wearing a lot less.  And there’s usually beer involved.  And maybe a cover charge or some tips or something.

And ya know what would make this even better?  I want John Pistole himself to do the screening.

Butt Head
(credit image:  DayLife/Associated Press)

I figure that if the special sauce is good enough for his rank and file TSA grunts, it’s good enough for the head as well.  Head honcho, I mean.

I think he needs to hold his hand a little flatter, though. Gotta make sure both the boys get equal attention. A little cupping might be nice, too. Just sayin’.

And eventually, we can even have this:

Butt Head
They’re even already in the blue uniforms!  Won’t that be so much fun!

Or we could, ya know, employ security techniques that actually work.

But where’s the fun in that?


The Obligatory Introduction…

May 28, 2010

So, Hi.  Yet another blog.   Yea me.  So I suppose I should tell you about your humblest of scribes.  I grew up in an average city and I still live there.  I’ve been elsewhere, but I keep ending up back here.  Go figure.  Bought a house and everything.

About my professional life…

I work in an office.  I’m not a drone, but I’m not management either.  I guess you could say I’m in corporate limbo.  I describe my job as a professional problem solver, and a technical troubleshooter.  I directly support about 300 or so end users, and I also develop processes and make new technological tools to aid with those processes.  (Yes, I code, therefore, I am.)  I also play project manager and under-Schmoozer of the Big Wigs.  It’s a charmed career.
I suppose I should note that I am somewhat…  infamous…  for my sarcasm.

About my personal life…

I am married to my best friend, I’ll call her Vesta here for now, look for a more creative moniker as the muse musters by.  We have been married for over three years as of this writing, and had dated for over three years before that.  No marriage is perfect, and I’m sure I’ll touch on that over the life of this blog, but we have a pretty good thing going on here.  If you asked, each of us would say that we are truly happy.  And our marriage is very healthy, trust me.

I shoot things, as the blog title suggests.  My hobbies include firearms, music, medieval recreation, fixing things and photography (although I’m just getting back into that after a long hiatus)  I should say that I really am a jack of all trades, so don’t be surprised if you stumble here one day and see I’ve discovered the joys of underwater basket weaving or some such.  I’m also an ordained minister, so if you’re in Ohio (currently the only state I’ve filed the requisite paperwork in) and need to get hitched, lemme know.

I’m just an average guy in my thirties trying to stand out while keeping my head down and my nose to the grindstone.  Nice to meet ya.