October 15th, 2006


Long story long (Saturday night ER trip)

My voice post from sometime around 1:50 this morning didn't get transcribed by anybody, so I had to transcribe it. What is wrong with my f-list? Why didn't three dozen people didn't spring to action like a thousand mokeys at a thousand typewriters immediately upon the post's appearance? I want answers!

I am, of course, only joking when I say things like the above. Seriously, if anybody had transcribed a voicepost from 1:50 in the morning I probably would have hit them with a stick while demanding to know what was wrong with them. Unless it was yotogi, at which point I wouldn't be surprised (save that he seems to have the plague this week).

Shortly after ten last night I drove lady_curmudgeon to the hospital Emergency Room. The breathing problem that had plagued her all day had finally intensified to the point that her inhaler and a Prednisone burst couldn't help, and it was time to upgrade to the Professional Grade type stuff, so when she made that decision I dropped everything and grabbed the keys to the Expedition. We waited an hour and change and were finally admitted (the ER on a Saturday night is an interesting place to be and unless you arrive in a stretcher with lights and sirens on your ambulance, you're going to be put in a queue) and met with Cliff, a fellow from Repiratory Therapy. He confirmed the attending doctor's diagnosis and approved the recommended treatment... so at around 12:30 this morning the Curmudgeon began receiving an hour-long nebulizer treatment. The medicine made her pretty jittery at the end, but for her breathing it seems to have done wonders. That's what matters the most.

We were checked out of the ER sometime around 1:43 this morning (roughly five minutes or so before I made the voice post) and proceeded to hit the local 24-hour pancake house (which I think is now infamous to donaldson, joewolfbrother and brianblackberry for various reasons from our last visit there) to get a bite to eat. Curmudgeon wanted it so she could warm up, get her blood sugar back to something aking to normal and, most of all, to try and make the shaking in her arms and hands from the nebulizer treatment stop. Me, I just wanted something to cut the four cups of coffee I was going to drink. Breakfast was served in short order, we ate our fill and paid the bill before boxing up leftovers and heading back to the world's smallest two-bedroom flat.

So that was my Saturday night. Certainly it was a bit more exciting than I needed it to be but everything worked out and Curmudgeon is going to be okay, so I'm happy.

And we were tied for second place, dammit!

About an hour ago I got a phone call from my good friend Heather, who happens happened to also be the president of the Sunday bowling league lady_curmudgeon and I belong to. H and her husband both quit the league tonight, as did the two other members of their team. When I inquired what would prompt such action I was told it was all thanks to the house's unwavering assertion that the jerks on the league now following us (dubbed the "Sunday Night Strikers") are more important that we are. It's an interesting position to take, really. Our league has three times the number of teams, drinks three times the alcohol (we keep that bar swimming in cash all night long) and generally treat the staff better. Despite the fact that the other league is the group that broke contract and changed the night its bowling on for no good reason... despite the fact we're on contract and have done nothing wrong... despite the other factors I've already mentioned, my league is being told to either suck it up or start an hour earlier to avoid having the Strikers chomping at our heels and harassing us in the later part of the evening.

I've been with this league for three years. I've dealt with the Strikers and I know from experience exactly why we set our bowling dates specifically to avoid them, bowling every other week when they're not there. Yet strangely enough, sometime each year, the Strikers find some excuse to break their contract and end up on the same Sunday night as us. Every year the owner of the alley tells us to suck it up and bullies us when we try to push back. Well, not this year. When the edict came from the owner, Heather had enough and quit. Her husband had pretty much had his fill already and quit at the same time. The other members of their team didn't really like the direction this was going and so they tendered their resignations as well. BAM, one team down. I decided I had zero desire to keep bowling in the face of such rampant stupidity, so I quit for lady_curmudgeon and myself. I called the remaining members of my team and they quit as well, so my team is out for the count. BAM, now team #1 and team #2, two of the "founding teams," have decided that enough is enough and we're outta there. So of the 18 teams that comprise the Brew Crew, two have folded in the last hour and a half. All signs indicate that another team is quitting in protest as well but we haven't heard a formal answer from their captain yet. There were about nine other individuals in tonight's meeting who also got completely bent at the news. I think the league will be spared from complete implosion but it's going to be hurting when this exodus is said and done.

What a pisser, man. After last week's sweep we were tired for second place.

Ratt shit is better than cat shit.