"Put Me In, Coach"

I am ready to play.

I'm currently watching MLB Network and wishing today was Sunday and not Monday. Brewers On Deck was a blast.

Prime and I got a bit of a late start heading down to Milwaukee; we finally arrived at quarter to eleven. We headed in, I got a couple of lotto tickets for autographs (Yovanni Gallardo and Ryan Braun). Then Prime and I hit the main attraction.

I headed over to Randy Wolf's line, paid my $10 and pulled out one of my baseball cards. Thankfully I was able to get Mr. Wolf's autograph right away; I was one of the last in line. After him was Craig Counsell. Got in that line, but I was near the back. Prime popped over while I was waiting and snagged a few of my cards for a few other autographs. While he was there, the winning lotto numbers were posted. I didn't get a chance at Ryan Braun but made it for Yovanni Gallardo. Awesome.

After getting Mr. Counsell's sig (he's a majorly awesome guy) I got in line for Yovanni Gallardo. Here's where memories of BotCon started to surface: jumping in one autograph line to the next. But it was fun.

I got Mr. Gallardo's sig and managed to catch up with Prime, who, after standing in line for an interminable interval to purchase a couple of grab bags, had managed to get autographs from Casey McGehee, LaTroy Hawkins, and Manny Parra. By now it was nearly 2 PM and we were planning on where to go and what to do next. As we were chatting, we saw a large line and asked someone near the end for whom they were waiting.

It was a line for John Axford. I immediately hopped in because there was no slagging way I was going to miss the Axman's sig. He is too awesome to miss.

Yeah, I waited in that line for damn near an hour and a half before we were allowed into the main queue. Prime ran and grabbed us some food, then disappeared into the team store for a bit...after he checked my shirt size.

When he came back, he was holding a reusable Brewers bag. According to Prime, he bought it for slags and giggles; there was nothing in it. I believed him...at first. Then he set the bag down and I heard a 'clink'.

Prime had to admit that he simply didn't buy a bag. He got a little something for my birthday and since I had sussed that out, he gave it to me a few months early.

Prime bought me a game used baseball. As in, it was used, hit and thrown during an actual game. It's dirty, covered in the clay of Miller Park but it's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen in my life.

I nearly cried. I'm not kidding you. I held that acrylic case with its precious cargo and had to fight back tears. Best. Gift. Ever.

True story: As we're still standing in Axford's line, Corey Hart walks by. We all yelled and waved. He smiled and waved back. In case you wonder: Corey Hart is really cute in person. Seriously, he is incredibly cute.

After the longest wait of my life, I got John Axford's autograph. Oh my Primus, it was so worth it! He is beyond awesome! XD

By now it was nearly 4 and things were winding down. So Prime and I decided to go ahead and make an early start on the return trip. After we got a few more pics, of course, and I managed to sneak in and get Wil Nieves's autograph on a photocard in the midst of that. I was exhausted but elated when we got to the car.

The trip back was uneventful and all too brief. I was glad to be home, but more than a little sad the day was over. It was a lot of fun, getting autographs and chatting with people. Prime, you gave me a great anniversary present last month. You have no idea how much I appreciate this. Love ya, big guy.

Now begins the excruciating wait for Spring Training and Opening Day. As of right now, I really don't want to see any more snow at all. My brain is stuck in spring, thank you very much.

--Weasel, "April to October, baby. Ain't nothin' like it."

Road Trip!

By the time everyone is up and reading this, I will be in Milwaukee, attending Brewers On Deck. Expect pics and a half-assed report later.

--Weasel, "Let's go Brewers!"

Back To (Semi) Normal

The last few weeks have been a bit trying, to put it gently. Things have gotten crazy at work and adjusting to this "new normal" hasn't been all that easy.

On the work front, there have been massive changes and even more massive rumors swirling about. Our door greeters have now been reduced to working from 10am to 10pm. If you're a cashier that's on the GM self-checks, ten to one you'll be watching the GM doors. Yeah, like you don't have enough to do watching four slagging lanes. Whatever. But that's not the worst of it. The rumor is that we'll be getting rid of the door greeters altogether. Meaning, cashiers will have to keep an eye on things. Even worse, the rumors are swirling about that we'll also see the cartpushers go the way to the dinosaur. Who will go out and take care of the lots? You guessed it: Cashiers and ICS associates.

Yeah, I'm not running around pushing carts in below zero weather. Or blazing heat, for that matter. It ain't happening.

So I keep editing my work, hoping for the best. I'm at the midpoint of a fourth notebook, which is one of the things that's keeping me sane. But at this point, I don't know how long this will last.

--Weasel, "I love my job. I love my job. I love my--oh who the fuck am I kidding?!"

Friday Photoblog: "Sweet Georgia Brown" Edition

The Harlem Globetrotters' star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame. From BotCon 2009.
(I'll put something a bit more substantial up here on Saturday... I hope.)

Friday Photoblog: "Room With a View" Edition

The view from the Dolphin at Walt Disney World. From BotCon 2010.
(Temps are waaaaaaaaaaaay below freezing today. I could use some heat and humidity!)

Friday Photoblog: "This Cold is Kickin' My Ass" Edition

Aaron Archer, holding a shot of pure cuteness. From the Hasbro tour, 2007.
(Got a freaking head cold right now. It's really hard to keep my eyes open...)

"Have no fear! Once again I will save the day!"

Not anymore. (sigh) Somewhere out there, a squad of Autobots is missing its Lieutenant Commander.

Aron Kincaid, the voice behind Generation One's mighty and sophisticated Sky Lynx, has passed away. My heart and the heart of every oldschool TransFan goes out to his family and friends. The man played probably the most magnificent bastard of a Cybertronian ever, a character who did everything big and with grand showmanship--and had no problem making sure that you knew it.

Prime picked up an Encore-series reissue of the Sky Lynx toy ('reissue' being a bit of a misnomer to Japan collectors, who didn't get the toy back in the 80s) at some past convention. It was well within sight when Prime told me the news last night. I think I hugged that toy for a good hour, trying not to cry.

Some days, I think I ought to just say 'screw it' and see about moving to the L.A. area, else I'm never going to meet very many more of the people who helped, in ways large or small, to shape my childhood. (I have to face it, as great as BotCon is, the people behind it have a time of it in trying to get new guests. Seems like even holding it in Pasadena only imparts a bit more leeway.)

Wonder what Prime would say about such a move. Probably, the phrase 'I don't think so', in his best Rhinox voice, would be used...

--Weasel, "We miss you, Commander Modesty." (/sad grin)

Friday Photoblog: "Wish You Were Here!" Edition

A view of the surrounding city, as seen from Universal Studios Hollywood. From BotCon 2009.
(Headin' back to Cali this year. Can't wait.)

Five Degrees of Pissed Off

As of this very moment, it is taking every bit of restraint in my body not to throw my stupid mouse across the room.

I was doing a few rewrites and edits to my work and thought I had saved. Or rather, I was attempting to save when the fucking mouse pulled the "What the fuck, you don't need this shit open anymore" bullshit that it's been pulling for the past few weeks. So my file was closed out. Before I could save.

When I reopened the file, I could see the word count was off.

There went a thousand words and a shit-ton of tweaking on my part. I'm surprised I'm not mute right now, I howled so loudly. (Oh, and I have a chest cold. That'll do wonders for my slagging voice.)

Prime's pretty much under orders: New mouse. Now.
No, I have zero desire to use the damned touchpad; that's the little fucker who "helped" reformat my work several weeks ago without me asking. That was damn near a week of cursing I'd rather forget.

Here's hoping Prime can do something with Auto Recover. If not, I'm fucked. And doing this shit again tomorrow. :grumble:

--Weasel, "Me, the old mouse and a sledgehammer. That's all the hell I'm asking for..."