Les Singes: The Life of Monkey Boy

My Back Shouldn't Ache

• Some days I wish I could simply remember to zip my pants instead of the alternative.


• I'm still not sure if curly hair is a blessing or not.


• I wish we had one piece of truly comfortable furniture in our house, just one. Our couches are just alright and our chairs, not so relaxing for the body.


• Thinks we have the best babysitter ever.


• I enjoy this time of year because of apples, leaves, fog, rain, wind, decorations, candy, and peppermint mochas.


• Can't wait for my buddy Tod to get back from his two year stint in the Peace Corps November 20th.


• Loves the clothes my mom marks for Baby Singe and this would be the only reason I approve of stunting.


• I have absolutely no clue what I will be for Halloween, but cheerleader is out of the running

Monday Review

I'm not sure how it happens, but I'm in a bad streak of not paying attention. I probably forget to button my fly at least a couple times a day. 

Monda morning I put on a brown short sleeve polo tee with jeans. About an hour after arriving to work I realized the shirt was on inside out. Sweet! As a guy I was able to remedy the situation while sitting at my desk, a perk.  I really should pay more attention to my wardrobe selections.

The rest of Monday went off without a hitch, considering the fact I didn't inadvertantly arm the house alarm for the contractor fixing our windows. I did that last week and felt horrible because it's an irritating noise. Now he's got our digits so he best be a trustworthy guy.  Baby Singe loves him and makes sure to say hola and adios each day.   

Monday didn't contain any dropped coffee beverages, no water being spilled on my dress pants, and no recovery of lost goods. In short, Monday was Monday and I quite liked it. I had a burrito for lunch and a bottle of peach juice. Maybe a few donuts too, but they don't count. Bring on Tuesday!

I Need a Periscope

I'm nosey alright. Normally I can figure out situations/relationships in a timely manner. However, these days I've been confounded by our new neighbors. When our old neighbors moved to San Francisco, they opted to rent their house. It took a couple months, but they did find some (entertaining) renters.

The moving day happened and we met some of the new residents. I remember one name from the eventful day. I recall the loads of kids I met which included three older kids and 15 month old girl twins. Family and friends helped with the move and we were excited to meet the new neighbors.

Six weeks later I still don't have a full grasp on the family relationships. I will admit this bugs me more than it should. I know who the mom is. I'm pretty sure she's the parent of all three of the older kids aged roughly 8-11, two boys and a girl. I'm 100% certain she's also the parent of the 17 month old twins.

That's where my certainty ends. Here are the cast of characters:

Female who drives a Toyota Corolla: The woman is rarely home when the mom is there. She's roughly in her mid 20s and has some sort of accent, sounds Russian. At first I thought she was a babysitter. Then I thought maybe a sibling because she works really long hours. The newest theory from Mrs. Lessinges is this woman is an au pair.

Older male who drives a Scion xB: he introduced himself as the mom's boyfriend on their move-in day. This man is easily in his late 40s and I haven't seen a sign of this guy in the past three weeks.

Male with baggy pants who drives a beat up black Mercedes: this man is for sure the dad of the 17 month old twins. He visits the house regularly and will dropoff the kids there. On occasion he will stay with the kids there at the house. I can only assume he and the mom have joint custody of the toddler girls. He has stayed overnight a couple times. Age, mid 30s, baggy pants and avoids eye contact.

Male who pumps bass in his black sportscar: this man is about my age, in his mid 30s: I think this guy is the mom's new main squeeze. I think the older Scion guy has been replaced by this guy. He first appeared on the scene about a week ago when he arrived to the house at 12:45am. I would say that's booty call, but one never knows.

Noisy old guy: this man drives a Ford minivan and will take the older kids places. I assumed he was the grandfather at first. Lately though, I've had a change of heart. I believe he could be the father of the three older kids. This man wears suspenders and assembled their dining table in the wee hours of last weekend. Fun Fact: this man left as soon as the Bass Pumping guy arrived last weekend for his booty call.

Good luck sorting this out. Sadly, this is the exact type to occupy my mind far too often. Enjoy your Fourth!

Late Night Thoughts

• we will board a plane Wednesday destined for the land of deep dish pizza.
• we now have five new neighbors living next door. I arrived home to a toy Star Wars gun in the front yard. Time to fence in the backyard.
• I know the names of three characters in Dora the Explorer books, game on.
• I've yet to find the "next Twitter", but it doesn't mean I've stopped looking.
• the Florida in-laws visit was really nice. Our daughter really enjoyed seeing them again. I'm glad because she's going to be inundated with more family for the next week.
• I did some gardening for the first time in a couple years, digging up the grassed over veggie beds on the side of our house. Can sprinkler heads disappear?
• work remains busy and I have to say it has been a welcome change.
• later this summer consumers will have the opportunity to buy headsets which can be linked to their cellphones so you can look busy all the time. Get ready for Bluetooth; prepare for the evolution.
• shocked it has been nine years since my mom last worked as part of the US Census team. Seriously, it seemed like maybe five years ago...
• My fear of the post office still remains as I've yet to ship a phone to a blogger. I suppose he can wait if it's a free phone. Damn this nagging procrastinating gene of mine.
• I messed up my MacBook over the weekend trying to reload some software. I stayed up very late Saturday night trying to fix it, but eventually ended up taking it to the local Mac store on Monday. I was afraid it would cost me heaps of money to get the laptop fixed, but I'm happy to report they were much more helpful than I expected and didn't charge me a penny for a non-warranty repair.
• my daughter said "I missed you daddy" when I picked her up from daycare Tuesday. It definitely made me smile and tear up simultaneously. So darn cute.

What's on My Mind?

Sign of the times? There are three houses on our street for rent. The owners moved out of their houses within the past 6-9 months to pursue new job opportunities and/or a new home elsewhere. A year ago, Breeder's Row thrived and now we've got empty wood structures surrounding us. Hopefully none of the vacant houses remain unoccupied for too long. It's damn depressing to look inside a hollow home which used to brim with activity.
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Speaking of our daughter, I think it's safe to say I've been madly in love with her since she was born. "I love you mom" and "I love you dad" have rolled off her tongue recently which means I'm more sucked than ever before. She can clearly state her own affection... and objections. She has this teething chew toy giraffe named Sofie and she says "Sofie" so clearly my heart skips a beat.

Other tricks: She helps pick up food scraps off the kitchen floor after each meal and then politely hands them to us. Her new routine is to play inside our cars when we get home. She likes to pretend to drive and flip all the switches and buttons. Clearly she learned this from me. When winding down the day, she'll talk to her animals in her crib babbling "ahh-tchoo" back and forth. AW, pretend sneezing.
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Real life, stop stifling my creativity! I want it back. Where did it go? Shit, I think I need to attend Blog Camp. What would Blog Camp be like?

I picture a crowded room full of laptops. Bloggers would sit down and be told to type whatever is on their mind. Some might create memes, post pictures, or improve their typing speed. There would be classes about commenting, Bookmarking, posting audio/video content to your blogs, how to drive traffic to your respective blogs, and flirting. You'd learn how to forge friendships with random people around the globe. Where do I sign up?

FKT: Kleenex

Ho hum... Wednesday afternoon was kind of slow at work. My cubicle mate and I chatted about life and shifted topics to marriage proposals. We discussed the intimate details of how I didn't get down on bended knee to propose to my wife. Instead she received a surprise handwritten note which was secretly placed inside a plastic Easter egg.

Additionally, I revealed how my wife didn't take my last name when I placed the ring on my wife's left hand. Both of these revelations perplexed him greatly. As far as the last name goes, my wife's last name is very unique, rhymes with mazel tov. I didn't see any reason for her to relinquish a lifelong identity simply because she and I exchanged vows. Her name is such a big part of who she is. Would you read this blog if my name was Joe Smith? Maybe you would because you'd think I was some Mormon prophet and discover I just came from a large family. Who knows.

Anyways, some marriage traditions are a tad old school in my mind. I wasn't about to drop to a knee or ask her father for consent to marry his daughter. As long as I've developed a relationship with him and his daughter, there wasn't a need to ask him for his blessing. Perhaps I'm naive in the traditions of marriage because it's only happened once,... or maybe just naive in general.

My officemate chuckled at my expense when I mentioned the engagement ring snafu. There's not much to tell here other than I thought the diamond was included. I didn't know the the "diamond" in the band wasn't real. It's not like I spent my formative years hanging out in jewelry stores.
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*Dull FKT Disclaimer - Feel free to mock or copy this crap idea of mine if you want. Don't feel obligated to do this thing every Thursday and shit. Don't fret, I won't send harassing emails to you on a weekly basis demanding you post some hot picture on your blog. That's way too much work for me and besides, I find reading other blogs boring. I try and spend as little time as possible reading and/or commenting on blogs. I prefer to spread my love for random people in other ways. I don't feel like delving into those sorts of details pubicly on my blog. Gnome sane?

Power, Sketchy, and Beneath Me

Have I mentioned my short-term jobs on this blog before? I can't remember much these days so bear with me. I've had some brief jobs in my life which might make some think I have commitment issues. I've had numerous, roughly 10-15, which fit this mold. Allow me to share a few of them with you.

Little League baseball umpire. Duration: 3 months. Age: 15. My brother and I thought it would be fun to be Little League baseball umpires for a season. We attended a week long training seminar and we were officially Little League baseball umpires. It was fun to watch parents get all up in arms about very abritrary decisions I would make. If you have thin skin, perhaps a career as a baseball umpire isn't for you. That may explain why I only did the job for one season. I do like me some rules though.

Bakery counterperson. Duration: 3 days. Age: 19. I took this job after my freshman year of college. I worked for a very crotchety man who wasn't a fan of learning. Generally people learn by asking questions. The owner didn't like to be burdened with tedious questions. His least favorite question to be asked, "do you have a bathroom we can use?". Ask him this and he'd immediately usher a mother in urgent need of the bathroom outside his quaint bakery. Yes, he stiffed me when I abruptly quit after deciding I didn't want this guy to make money off of others.

Facilities Guy. Duration: 3 weeks. Age 21. I had to make some extra dough in college to support my crack habit. Being the clever student I was, I found this lovely job maintaining a campus building for various functions. My tyical job duties included moving/stacking chairs, listening to my boss bitch about her spoiled daughter, and picking cigarette butts out of ashtrays. Not a terribly challenging job and definitely not a chick magnet job either.

As I embark on my last couple months of my 35th year, it's clear I was not meant to interact with the public in face-to-face conversations very often. (actually not so true) Take two: it's clear I was not meant to bury my head in Excel for more than 20 minutes at a time.
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Off the mark. Here's a bit of randomness for you fine folks. Yesterday at work, I went upstairs to chat with Human Resources about some stuff. I realized I was walking around with my fly open. Oops! This morning I was chatting on the phone with my co-worker, getting comfy during the call. I arched my back (not what you think) and placed my left ankle on my right knee. No big deal except I didn't remember putting on plain white athletic socks for work. That's because I didn't. I forgot to change them this morning so I'm the loser guy wearing brown shoes with white athletic socks. Damn I'm sexy. I told my wife this story and she responded with four little letters, "BAYR".

bitch
Are You Retarded?

So That's What Foundation is For

It is good to meet people. It is good to dance. It's good to dance and meet people you might find attractive. See, this is type of thought process which got me in trouble during college. When you're underage, your nightlife options are stunted.

a) You get a fake ID
b) You go to Canada where the drinking age is 19
c) You go to cheesy underage dance clubs
d) You stay home and study on Friday and Saturday nights

I choose option C often even though I'm terrified of dancing. Well I'm much less terrified now thanks to my appearances on the dance floor during the college years. I used to be so scared of dancing I would hang out on the sides and wish I had the balls to bust a move. With some time I grew a pair and danced and met some fun people. Some I dated, some I was too embarrassed to ask on a date, and some weren't there for romantic encounters.

One eventful evening, my friend Scott directs me to a table located away from (fake) smoky dance floor. I felt confident that night. There was a guy manning some small card table and he was repping a talent agency. He said all the right things to woo me. Dammit, I went to the club to meet girls and this guy flattered me enough where I attended an informational meeting a few days later. I was swept off my feet by the kind words this guy said about my appearance.

Before I knew it, I decided to enroll in a John Casablancas modeling class which I couldn't really afford. In fact, it may be the first official item I financed come to think of it... other than college. Not the $500 futon, it was this crazy modeling class. I commuted on the bus to the class weekly where I learned various skills such as: glamorous head shots, walking the catwalk, how to nail a "go see", dressing with glitz, applying makeup, and how to stop chewing my nails.

Okay, it all seems a bit silly as I describe it here. The ten week program was grueling (a lie), yet it did give me an ego boost. It was a much needed confidence booster considering I was in a bit of a dark place personally. As many of you know, these classes happened shortly after one of my siblings passed away in 1991. These classes got me out of my shell and thinking about the future.

I finished the modeling class and worked on building a portfolio. I paid a sketchy photographer for some head and body shots then attempted to market myself. Nothing really amounted out of this though as I lost interest over the years. However, I must say my knowledge gained allows me to show off Dior turns and makes watching America's Next Top Model (ANTM for those in the know) much more compelling.

*NOTE: a head shot will be added to this post at a later date

Conversation Starters Should We Meet

Stuff you probably don't know about me:

My wife insists on walking on my right side, always! She broke the news to me shortly after we started dating in 1998. If she's on my left side, it's awkward and I quickly race around to her left side. The drawback is I'm challenged to walk on anyone's right side after 10+ years on the left.

I shave in the shower using bar soap and no mirror. This has been routine since college after I read an ever so helpful grooming article in Men's Health. The mag stated it's best to shave when the skin is warm so the facial hair isn't so rigid. 80% of the time this method yields decent results.

My father has yet to meet my 18 month old daughter. He lives about an hour and 15 minutes away from us on a good day. My dad is an intense martyr only made worse after my parents divorce. My dad feels like he's a burden on his children and would prefer to drift off quietly. This isn't how I'd like it to be, but my father has chosen this path. It's a personality trait of his I will not inherit.

Where's my Speedo? I have a recurring dream where I'm in a pool and I've somehow lost my swimsuit while swimming underwater. I've had this dream for as long as I can remember. The dream usually morphs into a nudity dream where I run errands, but don't have any articles of clothing at my disposal.

Clip, clip, clip! That's me trimming my nails. We all do it, yet I suppose the question is where. Uh huh, I'm the guy who clips his fingernails at work. I know this is a huge pet peeve for many, but I've received blessings from my co-workers. Clip them at work and you're seldom tasked with doing them at home while watching 90210 on the couch. As a reformed nail biter, this work trimming suits me well. I compulsively chewed my nails until about 19 years old. What stopped me? A modelling class.

Want to know anything else? So, do you come here often?

The Shrooms are Loose

What is the opposite of chocolate? I'm convinced it's brussel sprouts. Damn, it could be coleslaw too. Who eats coleslaw and why? That is vile food and it has the tendency to do wicked things to the body. Whenever a restaurant gives me a side of coleslaw, I wonder why. Is anyone eating coleslaw? If you're one of the few who enjoys coleslaw or brussel sprouts tell me why. I know it can't be related to the smell before it goes in your body or when it comes out.... oops.
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Bring it! I'm in the middle of a Twitter vs. Facebook war. It isn't pretty, but I thought I could share some of the highlights.

Before Facebook: I searched for people's photos using approved search engines. I avoided snowball and food fights in person. I disliked getting Poked. I wrote, read, and commented on blogs. I didn't have to fight for the computer. I didn't have to explain my stubborn emoticon rules. I didn't obsess about Status Updates. I thought I was a good Scrabble player. I thought I had a lot of Friends. I thought I was loved (see evidence below)

Hey,

I'm so perplexed by the things you post. Does your wife think you are cute/funny when you write about your bodily functions? I'm really grossed out when I read about you needing to poop, having a boner, etc. I just wouldn't expect it from a 35yo married father! Call me a prude, goodie-goodie or whatever you want. I just felt compelled to let you know I'm going to remove you so I don't have your posts popping up. Feel free to email me anytime, I just don't want to read that stuff. Sorry Egan! Please don't be mad. I do hope you'll stay in touch...

Egan's First

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One and a third --> believe it or not folks. My daughter is one and a third years old today. I know it's not really a birthday most tend to celebrate. However most people don't tend to get hooked on Facebook and chat about their life Before Facebook as if it was a huge milestone. I, however, am not your typical cat. If I keep saying this, there's no way it can't be true. Rumor has it 40% of the US population between the ages of 19-39 have a tattoo. Guess what, I don't have one. I'm so cool.

Crikey, back to my daughter. She's 16 months old today and is learning to play pretend. She removes her bottle bag from the kitchen door knob and leaves the kitchen saying "bye" many times. [exit stage left] She reappears ten seconds later with a huge grin on her face saying "hi" as we welcome her back to the kitchen. It's damn adorable. Just like all of you bloggers! You're adorable. Have a fantasically super cool weekend!