Whoa, Where Did The Time Go? Part 1

Ok people, you had to know that when I finally got a vacation I was going to spend 75% of it catching up on my sleep and the other 25% with an assortment of daughters using my body as a human jungle gym, because they haven't gotten to in like FOREVER! So in short, the time that I didn't spend sleeping was spent getting pummeled by those kids that say they love me and want to snuggle in bed.

Oh the irony.

So in order to get you up to speed on what my vacation has been like, I shall offer you a small review. This will be broken up into three parts as to keep everyone interested (really, it only looks like a big post, honest!).

Thursday, December 25 - Everyone else's Christmas Day.
I drove home around 7:00pm in my fathers 1987 Corvette - scared to death of either putting a scratch or rising the ire of the local highway patrol, because nothing says "Hey Mr. Policeman! Look at me! I am needing a ticket!" like cruising around in something that looks like it is going 20 mph over the limit when actually it is going 10 mph under it.

And to all of you honking your horns while passing the grandma in the Corvette on the freeway - "Merry Christmas!!"... jerks.

I arrived home to the waiting arms of my girls - all three of them. I was exhausted from all of the overtime, but hearing how Julia was so happy to have her "Snuggle Buddy" home tonight and having being greeted by a Lucy slap fest I got a second wind. We had dinner as a family for the first time in the month of December and settled down to watch "A Christmas Story" for the 1,684th time.

I only lasted 10 minutes before I was sacked out with two little girls in my arms. It was so good to be home.


Friday, December 26 - The Grimmett Family Christmas
I admit, I have never been very good and staying asleep on the morning before Christmas. Even the morning before our pseudo-Christmas could not keep me asleep as the excitement of the day was just too much. Where it used to be due to the gifts I would be getting when I was a child - nowadays it is about the gifts for the kids and watching their eyes grow big at the pile of gifts that Santa (with some help from Mom & Dad) left for them.

Yeah, and there is still that little boy inside me screaming for his presents as well. Hey, I have been a VERY good boy this year.

I first awoke at around 4 in the morning, then again at 5 - still there was no daylight and Julia (my safety valve) was dead asleep. Again I dozed, this time awaking around 6:30 or 7 and just catching the first rays of sunlight peeking through the window. I smiled, as it was time to put my plan into action. I turned to the sleeping little girl beside and very quietly whispered into her ear...

"Julia, it's Christmas day..."

Her eyes sprang open and she sat up in bed with a shot.

"MOMMY! IT'S CHRISTMAS MORNING!!!"

I don't even think she realized that a little voice awoke her.

Down the stairs she flew as the rest of us stumbled and mumbled our way down. Santa was indeed good to the girls this year, giving Julia her Barbie and the Diamond Princess dolls she had been longing for since July and giving Lucy a healthy dose of her new favorite hero - Elmo.

Once the girls finished digging into our gifts and we were treated to Julia's Barbie dolls singing an off key duet nonstop, the rest of the family managed to open the gifts that were left for us. The wonderwife surprised me by getting me a game I said I wanted WAY back earlier in the year - Spore (that is my latest creation up there at the top). I think I shocked her a little by giving her one of those heated back massage pads. At first she looked at me with suspicious eyes, then she tried it - and proceeded to melt into the chair.

So you can pretty much guess how the rest of the day went. While there was a huge thunderstorm outside, I was engrossed into my new game, Leslie was vibrating in the sofa recliner, Lucy was being entertained by her new Elmo DVD collection - all to the background music of Alexa and Lianna (the dreaded vocal Barbie dolls) singing, "I am connected..."

Somehow I think Santa plans all of this stuff out before hand.


Saturday, December 27
Ok, you know how I mentioned the rainstorm yesterday? Well there was a reason for it. Read on.

After meeting my father at Billy Ray's Garage to load up the unfixed Stella onto a trailer for a trip to his house to see if he could figure out what is up with her - I decided that since we had company coming over in the afternoon, I would do a quick turnaround in the lot behind Julia's swing set.

Yep, it REALLY rained the day before. I promptly got the Big Red Car stuck - to the point that it was sliding down off over the small hill and into our back yard. Now, using quick thinking (or a lack thereof), I decide that if I go forward and drive on the hillside and not go into the murk and mud at the bottom I should be ok. Makes sense, right?

The key here was to drive on the hillside. And I didn't make it.

So here we are, down to just the Big Red Car and the Corvette that I am afraid to drive, and I get the former buried in mud in my back yard. Did I mention we were having company over?

A wonderful conversation starter right there.

The evening was fantastic as our playgroup friends from West Virginia came over and everyone had a wonderful time. Great food, great conversation, great football on the tube and a hilariously fun grief-giving time about Grimm and his red car stuck in his yard.

We have the Darwin Awards on line one, Mr. Grimm.

Merry Christmas!

May all of you get your own personal Chewbacca pajamas this year.

And Then There Was One.

Since Leslie's parents live with us, it is a necessity that we have three cars. I have the Big Red Car to get to work, Leslie has Stella the Van to get Julia to school, and Leslie's mom has the Taurus to take her to her job. Each vehicle did its job and all was right with the world.

Until last week.

Last Monday, the car of Leslie mom gave up the ghost and went to that big graveyard in the sky. No worries, the holidays were coming up, Julia was off school for a few weeks and I have some vacation time coming up - so she could use Leslie's van to get to and from work until around the third week of January. There was plenty of time to figure out a plan by then.

Until last Friday.

Stella got sick. She just managed to get Julia to school before deciding that she could not go any further. Luckily, I got AAA to save the day and they arraigned a local tow service to take Stella to the repair shop that we have personally kept in business with the repairs they have done to Stella over the last few years.

Only we apparently didn't do a good enough job of keeping them in business as we were greeted with new owners in our familiar establishment. Apparently, they only had one mechanic on duty, but they were not busy and went right to work on Stella. Leslie and I left our contact numbers and patiently awaited information on Stella's well being.

For two hours on Friday. And for most of Monday.

Now mind you, we were told that he would come in on Saturday to fix anything he doesn't get done on Friday. So I call him on Monday and this is the response I get:

I don't know what the problem is. I've been pulling my hair out over it.

I called again yesterday - Same response. It has now become painstakingly clear that we will not have this vehicle until next week.

Meanwhile Leslie drove her mom to Wheeling (70 miles) Sunday night so she would be able stay at "the house that will not sell" and go to work Monday morning. Once we figured Bubba Ray the mechanic would rather pull out his hair than fix our van yesterday - Leslie again made the trek down to Wheeling, picked up her mother and brought her home, then drove me into work (55 miles) and then returning - the latter trip happening during a semi-ice storm.

Yep, the Big Red Car put on alot of miles this week. PLEASE stay together a little longer...

On that note, thought I would give you a shot of holiday lights to the tune of "Rusty Chevrolet" by Da Yoopers (Ironically, a make of car that we do not own). Consider it like kissing your Uncle Fred or Aunt Edna under the mistletoe.

I Have An Alarm - Thy Name Is Lucy

For the past two months I have been putting in around 72-84 hours a week at work, covering for vacations on the other shifts and trying to build up a little nest egg to pay off some of our major bills and to have the kids a plentiful Christmas. Many times I am gone 2-3 days at a time to save on fuel costs, staying at my fathers' house and missing my family.

On the few times I do come home to get a change of clothes, a wonderful hot bath in our glorious tub and some huge hugs from my girls, I feel as though I never want to leave them again. But I know I will, usually that same night - which means going to bed to try to get a few hours of shut eye before hand.

Leslie has established a new wake-up procedure for when I need to my rear out of bed and begin my pre-work ritual: Food, Bath, and Dress for work. I have to remind myself of this order or I will end up eating my food in the bathtub or arrive at the dinner table soaking wet and buck naked from the bath. Her procedure is a simple one: Put Lucy next to me while I sleep.

There is something about being awaken to fingers grabbing you by your nostrils and yanking that everyone should experience just once in their lives.

I awaken groggily look up at my eight month old and smile, "Hey cutie."

She smiles.

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

You see, when Lucy is happy or excited she "pats" the things of her affection. Problem is, Lucy is pretty strong and she seems to enjoy the feeling of skin smacking skin as she slaps the hell out of me repeatedly. As if the nostril pulling wasn't enough...

Lucy is fascinated with faces right now. Not it making them, but in trying to pull them off of other people. I swear I never knew my bottom lip could be pulled that far. Like a rubber band, she pulls and pulls then lets it go so that the whole thing springs back in my face like some Tom & Jerry cartoon.

She smiles again. INCOMING!!!!

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

Ok! Ok! I'm up! I'm up! No mas! No mas!

I am beginning to think that Leslie is training this girl in guerilla tactics while I am away.

Aircraft Maintenance For Dummies

While at work, I get plenty of emails with jokes, antidotes and humorous tales of somebody's misfortune. I rarely post these to my blog, as I figure that if I finally got the email it must have already made its rounds through the Blogosphere. Tonight, I got something that actually made me laugh out loud. Now the reason for this could be explained away as some sleep deprived dementia, whereas I would laugh at pretty much everything or it could be legitimately funny.

I am too tired to figure out which.

The following are actual maintenance complaints submitted by UPS pilots and the solutions recorded by maintenance engineers.

Who knew being an airline engineer was so simple?

(Pilots marked with a P - Solutions marked with an S)

P: Left inside main tire almost needs replacement.
S: Almost replaced left inside main tire.

P: Test flight OK, except auto-land very rough.
S: Auto-land not installed on this aircraft.

P: Something loose in cockpit
S: Something tightened in cockpit

P: Dead bugs on windshield.
S: Live bugs on back-order.

P: Autopilot in altitude-hold mode produces a 200 feet per minute descent.
S: Cannot reproduce problem on ground.

P: Evidence of leak on right main landing gear.
S: Evidence removed.

P: DME volume unbelievably loud.
S: DME volume set to more believable level.

P: Friction locks cause throttle levers to stick.
S: That's what friction locks are for.

P: IFF inoperative in OFF mode.
S: IFF always inoperative in OFF mode.

P: Suspected crack in windshield.
S: Suspect you're right.

P: Number 3 engine missing.
S: Engine found on right wing after brief search

P: Aircraft handles funny.
S: Aircraft warned to straighten up, fly right and be serious.

P: Target radar hums.
S: Reprogrammed target radar with lyrics.

P: Mouse in cockpit.
S: Cat installed.

P: Noise coming from under instrument panel. Sounds like a midget pounding on something with a hammer.
S: Took hammer away from midget.

Yep, nothing worse than a midget with a hammer when you are trying to fly.

This Post Is Rated 'R'

It has been quite awhile since I actually was given a meme to do. I believe the last one I got was from my wife, and that was after constant harassment that she never sends any of the hundreds and hundreds of meme's she gets my way. She proceeds to berate me, stating that until I learn to say the word meme correctly she won't give me one.

Ok, so is it pronounced 'may may' or 'meem'? And who the hell came up with this word? To set the record straight, I looked up the word on dictionary.com and found that it is indeed a word - pronounced 'meem', whose definitions were so repetitious it made my brain hurt.

Finally, after showing my wife my newfound knowledge she succumbed to my pleading and decided to grant me the honor of doing one of these meme things that were making their rounds of the blogging universe.

I call a pity meme.

But not this one. Oh no. This one is legit.

So you would think that after the nice award I gave her a few days ago that Moe would be a kind person to give me a chance at this particular meme, showing compassion that my blog did indeed show a lack of meme-ness. You would think that by volunteering to do this meme, she would show the same compassion in choosing what letter I would have to write about.

You would think.

But actually Moe has a dark side. An evil side that some may say is more demented than Evyl himself. Alas, she chose the letter 'R' for me to do, the same letter she used for her post. So now, not only do I have to perform this meme, I have to handicap myself by not reusing any of her answers for risk of being a copycat. And as you know - I have severe cat issues.

The rules are:
You leave a comment on this post and I’ll assign you a letter. You write about ten things you love that begin with your assigned letter, and post it at your place. When people comment on your list, you give them a letter, and the chain continues on and on.

You DO NOT have to do the meme if you only want to comment. Tell me if you want to do it. Otherwise you will not be tagged.

1) Rejuvenation - What the 16th cup of black coffee does to me about 7:00 in the morning while at work. Thoughts of connecting an IV directly to the coffeemaker cross my mind. Of course this buzz lasts a mere 38 minutes and then I am back to slumber land.

2) Roommate - Because she also doubles as my wife and I am hoping to get MAJOR brownie points here. You know, with Christmas and all. Maybe, just maybe, I can get those oversized Chewbacca pajamas I have been asking for.

3) Relaxation - Just the thought up curling up on the couch with a nice, warm blanket sipping a cup of hot, steaming cocoa with huge snowflakes falling outside during my upcoming vacation would be a dream come true.

4) Realization - The thought that the nice, warm blanket will be shared with - at the very least - one of the little ones, sticking their icy cold feet on me and drinking all of my cocoa. That popping you hear is my dream exploding. However, I wouldn't trade it for the world.

5) Rigatoni - As in Leslie's fantastic cheesy rigatoni. Just the mere thought of the delicious dish makes me gain five pounds. The rich, meaty sauce combined with the savory creamy cheese is a certain diet buster for me. Mmmmm.

6) Raisins - In 5th grade, I used to chew up the raisins that come in those small Sun-Maid boxes and put them in my lip to look like chewing tobacco - complete with the necessary spitting. Hey, it was real enough looking to earn me a trip to the principals office.

7) Rock-N-Roll - As in Joan Jett, The J. Geils Band, The Go-Go's, Van Halen & Def Leppard among others. There is just something about the fact Joan Jett could personally kick the collective asses of N'Sync and The Backstreet Boys.

8) Rutabaga - No, I don't like the vegetable at all, but I LOVE the word. When the kids are around and you stub your toe on the bed frame you can feel you accomplished a good cursing when you say something like, "Son Of A Rutabaga!" Plus the kids will think you are weird - always a bonus.

9) Right - As in the opposite of wrong. In my home, this is something that happens to me very rarely. When it does, it is quickly dismissed as a fluke or an anomaly so that no proper credit will be given. Just the mere fact that I have made this statement will be called horse pucky, thereby proving my statement and solidifying my claim.

10) Ruminate - I remember taking a college vocabulary class in high school and this being the first word the stuck with me. So now I say whenever I am deep in thought to the annoyance of those around me. Unfortunately, the women folk in my home are college educated. Of course, I love the other definition as well - "to chew cud".

So if you would like to torture yourself with some meme fun, just make a comment and ask for a letter. I will be diplomatic a draw these letters from a hat, so if you happen to get an 'X' or 'Z' don't blame me - it was a random draw.

Or you made me REALLY mad for some reason.

You Got A Friend

Now that I got my bad day post out of the way, I did have a bit a great blogging news happen to me over the weekend. Seems like one of my newer readers Leslie Ann bestowed upon me The World Wide Web Friendship Award or www.Friendship.Award, a truly wonderful gesture on her part. It's good to know that even new readers think I am a decent blogger.

Wonder how I keep fooling them?

Seeing as though Leslie Ann is from the Philippines and this is a World Wide Award, I will give pass this along to a few of my non-U.S. followers. This is not a knock on my fellow American bloggers, but I thought I would follow in the tradition on what I think this award means.

MarkD60 of First Time - Cayman Islands
Chris H of DIET COKE ROCKS - New Zealand
The Freelance Guru - England
Mackey of Mackeydoodles Blog - Canada
Moe of Reflections and solace - While I am not sure where you live, anywhere there is a beach not covered in snow and you are mowing your lawn, I know you aren't from around here.

Moe, if I am wrong - I am sorry. But tell me what city you live in so we can move there, I need beaches. Lots and lots of beaches.

All of these blogs are wonderful reads and all of them are invaluable members of my blogroll. Give them a look see if you haven't already and give them some love.

I Could Maim Daniel Powter

Today was a miserable day - so bad in fact that it almost became humorous awaiting the next misfortune to befall me. I went through a mixture of so many emotions today that I swore if I heard that damn Daniel Powter song, "Bad Day", I would personally reach through the radio and strangle the freaking DJ. I am a most irritable and unhappy camper.

It started off the night before trying to get a little sleep while the blankets are in the wash. Let me tell you, when the sun goes down, my room turns into an icebox. Having just a sheet to work with, I rubbed my legs together like a cricket just to generate some kind of heat in my body but I could never get comfortable and therefore my sleep was restless and disjointed with dreams of being naked in the North Pole dancing with Rudolph.

Next was a clusterbuck of things happening at work that made a normally peaceful night into a hectic mass of phone calls and job fixes - which our crew handled beautifully. Of course that morning one of them was notified that their job position was being eliminated and that she was essentially being let go. This woman has more years at this job than I have years on this planet and now she is gone - just like that. I was upset, I was sad, but more than anything, I was mad that I was relieved it wasn't me.

I hurried home to help get Julia to her doctor's appointment getting there with about 20 minutes to spare. Upon arrival, I noticed Lola had her chain all tangled and she couldn't go anywhere, so I felt the need to take care of it. In the process, I somehow pulled the stake from the water logged ground and was unable to get it back in without a hammer. All the while, Lola is bouncing herself off of me like it was some kind of mosh pit - wrapping her chain around my ankles and more than once almost sending me sprawling into the mud.

After putting her stake in a new location, I rushed inside to help get the kids ready and out to the van. In doing so I took off my jacket. The same jacket with my keys inside. In running late for the appointment I left my jacket inside thinking we would use Leslie's keys. The keys she tells me she left inside - after locking the door.

Errr.

After trying every single window on the first floor, we somehow managed to wiggle the small dining room window open and after grabbing a stepladder from the garage, I proceeded to get halfway in before my damn rear end decides it just is not gonna fit. So while I try to figure out whether I am going to need some kind of lubricant to wiggle myself out of my predicament, Leslie goes for the secret weapon.

Super Julia.

Quickly unbuckling the girl from her car seat, we quickly convinced her of her mission impossible - and she was all for it. Through the window she went, grabbed my keys and become our hero. She exited the house to a huge round of applause (well the three of us anyway), and we quickly piled into the van for her appointment.

Only 11 minutes late. Errr.

The rest of the day showed signs of improvement, as I got to spend some wonderful quality time with the girls while Mommy did some shopping, but did take another dip when I only managed to get a little more than two hours of sleep before heading back to work. Pepsi + Coffee - Heartburn Meds = Dreams of 300-pound hairy elves singing Winter Wonderland in Pig Latin.

Errr.

300 Posts - By The Numbers

It took a little over two years, but Grimm has reached a minor milestone in his toward blogging infamy. Today marks post number 300 for My Grimm Reality and very honestly, I number I thought I never would reach when I began this journey.

Have all of these 300 posts been good? Hell no. But I have tried to maintain a steady 70.63% good post quota throughout the run and I think I have succeeded in that.

Of course, that depends on your idea of a good post.

So like any other milestone, I shall take this opportunity to look back over some of the key moments in the history of this blog. Along the way I will be giving kudos to the many readers past and present who was courteous enough to bless my little piece of blogging nirvana.

0 - The number of nominations this blog received for the 2008 Blogger's Choice Awards. Yep, not a one. I at least thought Leslie and I would get a few write-in votes for Best Blogging Couple. Bring on 2009!

1 - The Intro : Where I introduced the outside world to my little backwards universe. I had posted a little on my wife's blog up until then, but when she refused many of my post ideas (and sub sequentially put a clamp on the cuddling) until I started a blog of my own. Hence My Grimm Reality was born.

1 - As in very first comment - The one who became known as the WonderWife, my awesome better half, Leslie in one of her few appearances in my comment section. She says she doesn't want to drive my visitors away with her annoying banter. Ha! Methinks she hears my B.S. enough in person - she doesn't need to comment on it in print.

2 - The number of LONG sabbaticals I have taken when I truly thought that I was done with blogging altogether. Thankfully I had plenty of online friends that made me feel wanted and an awesome wife that threatened bodily harm if I quit without a good reason.

3 - The total number of themes I have had in 300 posts. Also the number of themes that Michael and Moe have in a week. I tried to get it to snow like some of your wonderful blogs, but I think I shorted out my desktop monitor. Damn melting snow!

3 to 2 - The final tally in my Duel of the Decades loss to Josh over at Blog Xalpharis: Rockin' The Hardcore in which I put up 5 of the greatest songs from the 80's against his 5 selections from the 90's. A piece of me died in Day 3 when the Bloodhound Gang "The Bad Touch" defeated ZZ Top's "Legs".

4 - The number of days it took to write this post. And here you thought it was because I went into hiding after posting my 300 pound pictures on my previous post. Well, you are partially right - I am petrified that I have those pics up. I look like Sloth from the Goonies.

6 - The number of Grimm's Toy Guides that have been posted for your viewing pleasure. You can view them all by clicking here. Who said Santa can't have a sense of humor? A really morbid, disgusting sense of humor - but a sense of humor nonetheless.

6 - The number of Sniglet posts I did back in late-2006 / early 2007. Surprisingly that didn't become a retro sensation I thought they would have. Rich Hall was so ahead of his time. I smell a comeback...again.

Pedaeration: (ped air ay' shun) (n.) Perfect body heat achieved by having one leg under the sheet and one hanging off the edge of the bed.

I have tried to convince the wife of this for years to no avail

11/26/06 - Date of the first comment from Laurie from Do You Know What It Means To Miss New Orleans, You Can Leave Your Hat On, Want To Hear Something Weird? - Significant because it makes her the longest current commenter. You rock girl.

13 - The number of posts I had to write before I got tagged for my first meme - "6 Weird Things About You." that Andrea from Ghost Stories sent me. Looking back at that, I have come to realize I really am a nut job. I still hate the letter Q though.

15 - The number of unfinished posts I have accumulated over the years waiting for a Random Mumblings On A Monday that never came. Most are funny pictures or a stupid video that I wanted to post but didn't want to make it a post of its own. Kinda like this...


15 - Most number of comments I have ever gotten on a post. This was mainly due to the ongoing argument Leslie and I have over the color of our cat, Katie. I say she is black, Leslie insists she is grey - and she brought alot of friends over from her blog to put me in my place.

16 - The number of blog posts dedicated to my Scary Movie Countdown in October of 2007, ultimately won by The Exorcist. Linda Blair and her head spinning, green pea soup spewing, body levitating freaky self still scares the hell out of me to this day.

24-27 - The number of felines that are currently taking up space outside our residence. The number fluctuates daily due to new cats discovering our House of Fur and the ones I have play dates for with the various dogs in the neighborhood.

28.5% - My American Idol percentage of predicting the winner at the round of 12. Of the 7 seasons, only Rueben Studdard and Taylor Hicks have come through for me. Which considering how their careers how turned out, bodes well for Jordin Sparks, Carrie Underwood and David Cook. Call it the Grimm Curse.

80's - We cannot forget this glorious decade of song, fashion and Who Shot J.R.? I even went so far as to declaring January 30 - February 4 as All About the 80's Week in which we would take a different aspect of the 80's each day and totally make fun of it discuss it. Even Leslie and Faith hopped on board and joined in the fun.

119 - The total number of people who have left comments on this blog. How do I know? I counted each and every one of you up that's how. But knowing my notoriously poor math skills, I missed someone and they'll hold a major grudge and vow revenge.

300 - My pre-diet weight. Notice the irony? 300 pounds fueled by a couple of years of eating fast-food and a lifetime of chugging Pepsi. Curse you McDonalds and your delicious ranch chicken snack wrap!

500 - The person who made my 500th comment was none other than Joeprah on the post Loving The Chill Of Fall. Of course, Joe gets about 500 comments every freaking month over at his place, so this is just a drop in the bucket.

530 - The highest number of hits I have ever had in a week. This was the first week of December of 2007. The 2006 Toy Guide came out, and on that day (Dec. 4) I reached my daily hit high with 159.

749 - Total number of days blogging - from my first post to this one. This will make my average about a post every 2.5 days. This means I should be hitting 500 sometime in the summer of 2010. However, knowing how wishy-washy I am, we could be talking 2020 easy.

1000 - Jen from A2eatwrite gets the valuable distinction of being the person with the 1,000th comment. It so happened on May 23, 2008 with my post Father Of The Year. Little did she know what a monumental accomplishment she was performing. Kinda like when you are in the shower and the soap slips out of your hands and you perform your own version of 'Swan Lake' trying to keep it from falling into the tub. Yep, it's alot like that.

1197 - Total number of comments as of December 12, 2008 at 7:00am. I know all of you will be rushing to comment because YOU want to be the one to hit 1500. The honor and prestige that this accomplishment will bring equals that of wearing a crown from Burger King to your workplace. It's that good.

531,595 - My glorious Technorati rank with an Authority rating of 11. Yeah baby, that's right - I rule. I bet you didn't know ratings could go that high. Being #1 is so overrated. It takes a real pro to be #531,595.

Because of you, the people who comment here, I am still writing. This has not gone unnoticed. From my followers that have stuck with me from the start to my new friends who are now regular readers to those people who have popped in for a one-time fling only to leave me in the morning - I appreciate all of you.

So here it is, the Ultimate Shout-Out Listing. An orgy of linkage. Below are all of the wonderful people who have left comments here over the last 25 months. This is also the reason I haven't written anything the last 4 days. Most are linked to whatever projects they are currently working on and those that are not linked to something, I couldn't find a new web address to link them up. If your name is listed without a link and you want linked up, just let me know.

Just as a warning...while this was a blast to do, it took a long ass time to complete because I could not get a widget to work with this amount of people. I have visited most every blog associated with this list in the last 4 days and I was pleased to find so many old blogs again that I used to visit regularly before losing them during my long sabbaticals. I will be visiting them again.

Again, thank all of you for making blogging such a fun adventure. Here's to another 300!


The Official My Grimm Reality Ultimate Shout-Out List / Orgy Of Linkage Section
Leslie / Laurie / Michael / Chris H / Moe / Mackey / MarkD60

Jen of A2eatwrite / Ali / Karly / Suzanne / Mominator

The Freelance Guru / Zanthera / Joeprah / Will /Leslie Ann / Jill

Undercover Angel / Petite Mommy / weaselmomma

dino martin peters / Ryan / The Thinking Black Man / Andrea

Sir Jorge / Toni / heathersway / Amy / Daddy Forever / Troy

Scout's Honor / MamaLee / Sassy Mama Bear / whythulc

mercurial scribe / LIBSMOM / Sheen' of Diaper Harlem / Kurt

Keith / steve / Faith / Joshua Xalpharis / Gunfighter / Kelley

Fourier Analyst / Jan / Jen In Holland / vasilisa / Anji

soccer mom in denial / I.T. Guy / anno / Nicole / * (asterisk)

Omni / cube / John M / susiej / E-MERGE Empath & Lucidity Seeker

Morwen / mrs. b / Michael K. Willis / Xavier Onassis / emawkc

Mr. Beer Belly / engolf / Renagu / Swipe / MrsMogul / Jod(i) / Anita

Mama Duck / Mommy the Maid / Haddock / Psycho Dude

Lifesinger™ / laura1814 / Andy / Doug / Ak-Man / tom / Nat

Wally Banners / Teresa Osborne / Jennifer / What on earth am I here for?

Mr. Disgruntled / Reeta Skeeter / Modern Princess / Milly Moo

kyknoord / AB / Chris / Dana / Dana J. Tuske / Skinski / Mario

Jenn of the Jungle / Karen Rani / insomnity / A "Mother of Two"

razz / Beach Boy the Voyeur / Rob / Carol / happyfeet.dinojr

Pand0ra Wilde / Jolly Green Dad / Flug Bangkok / Rick / Leon

eMz / Cookie / Lee / much more than a mom / moxiemocha

Real Live Lesbian / cathouse teri

The Grimm Diet

I have considered getting on some kind of exercise / diet regimen for some time now, but like the awesome procrastinator that I am, something usually comes up to take precedent. This usually is something very minor and trivial - like my Playstation gathering too much dust or making sure my laptop is played on for its mandatory six hours a day.

All of this being said, there are some things that have happened in the past 1-2 months that have crushed my excuses and brought dieting to the forefront - so much that for the past two weeks, I can actually be considered ON A DIET. How scary is that?

• Last month, my father failed a stressed test and had to have a medical procedure to place a stint in a 99% clogged artery. Granted, my father is 71 and has had issues with high blood pressure, but to me he is a pretty healthy man. This got my attention.
  
  
• Shortly thereafter, Leslie announced she would be going to the Blogher conference next year and declared online that she was going to lose weight before going. It took alot of courage to put herself out there like she did and I admired her greatly for doing it - but with how I work, there was no way I could actually diet, was there?
  
  
• Three weeks ago I weighed myself on a whim. 300 @#$&% pounds. Double damn.

So here I am, putting myself out there for the world to see. While I don't have the balls to shoot a live video of my huge frame, I will subject myself to the following two pieces of evidence, taken in August.

NOTE: The first pic is in mid-belch, hence the look of determination on my face.

_

Leslie got us membership at a gym by where Julia goes to school and has been walking 3-4 miles a day on the inside walking track. Once I decided to get off my rear and work on my weight, I began to accompany her. I can't go every day due to work, but when I am able - I go.

The place is outstanding, with empty basketball courts in the morning so I can relive the college glory that never actually was and a fantastic weight room that I can totally injure myself in. For now however, it's a quick basketball workout to get the sweat up - then it is on the walking track to join the wife.

Let me tell you something - my wife can walk. FAST. With a freaking stroller to boot. Needless to say, it is pretty much all I can do not to break out in a run to stay up with her. We joined the walking club they have there so we can monitor our mileage as we go. So you can imagine the two us power walking in a line - passing little old ladies in walkers as well as people twice as fit as we are. We are on a mission dammit.

About 10 days after my 300 pound weigh-in, I stepped on the scales again. Granted I wasn't expecting too much, considering this was over Thanksgiving and just the smell of turkey seems to make me swell. I stepped onto the scales and was shocked at the result.

I had lost five pounds. I am VERY pleased with myself. I have been eating well and haven't had any fast food in over two weeks and I can tell it is making a difference inside. While I am still not getting a whole lot of sleep - the sleep I am getting is meaningful and is keeping me awake and alert where before I would look like a drunken fool at last call as I tried to stay awake. I was not a pretty sight.

Five pounds in two weeks. So at this current rate, I should be at my ideal weight sometime in Mid-October. I just need to find a place to walk up here while I am staying for work.

That and I have to tell my father that Klondike bars are not a dietary food group.

I Really Need To Take My Heartburn Meds Before I Sleep

Another night spent at the house of my father, another totally messed up dream. This one involved me hooking up my older brother with Jessica Simpson. Yes, that Jessica Simpson. And the fact that we all lived (my wife Leslie included) in some suburban cottage in what appeared to be a trailer park for such dwellings - complete with a communal swimming pool!

Oy.

You want an idea of what it's like to go out in the evening to feed our cats when dinner is late?

No, it's not our place - but pretty damn close.
O.J. got sentenced to at least 15 years with a chance of parole in 9 years for robbery and kidnapping. Good. I can remember seeing the white bronco "chase" 13 years ago as I was trying to sell a set of Cutco knives to my older brother. I was just getting into the whole "you can cut through a pop can with one cut and still slice through a tomato with ease" routine when the breaking coverage came over the television.

I can't decide which is worse - the whole clusterpuck that was the initial O.J. trial or the fact that I was selling knives door-to-door. Both give me a pretty yucky taste in my mouth.

Wow, I've been blogging for a little over two years and that is the first real cultural opinion I've had. Well, that and Tyra Banks.

Well, I am away from home and missing the smile of my wife and the laughter of my daughters. And my nice, soft, cozy, warm, non-freaky dream bed.

The Bovines Are Back In Town

It's a yearly tradition that we here in the Grimm household hold most dear. We look forward to it oncoming arrival with eager eyes and baited breath. Yes, the anticipation is almost too much for us to bear. Each day we would look out of our dining room window hoping to catch a glimpse of the most mystical of four footed creatures.

You think we are talking reindeer here? Bah. Reindeer can't get close to these guys.

How many reindeer do you know that can ice skate?

Can reindeer signify to beginning of Spring by its mere presence?

I know your silly reindeer can't cheer, when the chips are down and the going gets tough.

And there is no doubt in my mind that no reindeer could ever produce this little gem.

Other people get Christmas trees or put up outside decorations to signify the beginning of the Christmas season. Us? We get the caroling cows. Yep, I'm starting to get the Christmas vibe now.

Christmas Memories

I have posted in the past about my mother and how I think about her every single day. Now that we are coming up on the 10-year anniversary of her passing, I seem to be thinking of her more and more. Not so much like I have in the past - the ache in my heart of her not being here will never pass - but it seems like little things are happening that remind me of some silly thing my mom used to do or say.

Case in point, I was cruising through my blogroll the yesterday, catching up on missed reading from over the weekend (still not finished), when I came upon a post from Mark from First Time. His post had absolutely nothing to do with Christmas or about mothers - but yet it jogged some fantastic memories of my mother that needed to be shared.

My mother was pretty old school when it came to Christmas time. She would buy presents, wrap them, then hide them in the closet in the living room. Year after year, without fail, they would be in that closet.

That was until she caught my brother and sister snooping around in the closet one year.

They were shaking some of the presents, estimating the weight of others, but never going so far as to poking a small hole in them to actually see what the presents were. But the mere fact that my mothers "secret" hiding spot had been discovered meant that she needed to get creative.

Christmas was never the same.

There was one year where my mother would buy the presents throughout the month and put each gift in a different spot that only she knew of - making it impossible for us kids to locate the entire booty. Of course, this proved somewhat of a problem because while mother was extremely creative, she didn't have the best memory - we ended up getting presents in March and April that she had forgotten we she put and happened to stumble on later.

Another Christmas she wrapped all of our presents and placed them under the tree without the little "To/From" tags. So while we could see and salivate over the presents under the tree before Santa arrived, we didn't actually know whose presents were whose. Problem was, neither could she when Christmas Eve arrived and she finally placed the tags on.

So you can imagine how I felt when an 8-year old Grimm opened up a radar detector, while my 16-year old brother got the four pack of WWF wrestlers that I had been asking Santa for ALL YEAR. It worked out it the end however, as while my sister opened up a Pittsburgh Steelers sweatshirt meant for me, I got her sweet looking dual-cassette boom box.

I'm just thankful she got the Commodore 64 right.

Grimm Van Winkle

I was thoroughly excited about Thanksgiving - as I am every year. Even though I had to work until noon Thanksgiving Day, I knew that Leslie was cooking up a feast for the family and I could wait to sample her wares. I was treated to delicious homemade mashed potatoes, succulent homemade stuffing, beautiful homemade broccoli casserole, and mouth watering homemade holiday bread. Leslie's mother even made her homemade noodles that I crave each year. Notice how I am stressing the homemade part - Leslie worked her butt off on this meal and cannot fully express in words how wonderful this Thanksgiving meal was.

Don't think that I have forgotten about that glorious gobbler that is my yearly fixation.

After my nervous experience with the brine bath last year and my shocking revelation afterward that the bird was the best I had ever tasted, I welcomed that turkey concoction with open arms this year - even going so far as the purchasing the waste basket that my fabulous fowl would be soaking in. I even bought it a tiny little rubber duckie so it wouldn't be lonely in the dark refrigerator. See how much I care?

That turkey was fantastic, dare I say even better than last year (because I gave it the love) and made this Thanksgiving dinner the best yet. I was even able to tell that my weeklong dieting was having some effect as I was able to keep myself to just one serving and did not go back for seconds. That being said, that one serving did fill me up, and together with my 12-hour workday made me a very tired and well fed man.

So with a hearty belch, I declared that I was going to take my obligatory Thanksgiving nap and that I would like to be awaken at 7 pm so that I may spend some quality television time with the family. That would give me about three hours of rest - just enough to wake up feeling refreshed and rejuvenated.

Only it never happened.

I awoke at 7:00 all right - 7:00 in the freaking morning!

This story goes that Leslie and Julia did in fact wake me up at the designated time and that I did in fact respond to them. Trouble is, I remember none of this.

Could this be some new form of diabolic brainwashing where my wife fills my stomach for delicious home-cooked food to the point I slip into grub induced coma - then sneaks into the room and proceeds to interrogate me about what I do when I am away at work? All the while, my mouth will be blabbing away while my brain is still unconscious - skipping through a meadow of turkey legs and broccoli trees.

Not that I am worried about what she'll find out. There is only so many times that you can say you did nothing but work, eat, poop & sleep without it becoming mundane and repetitive.

Still, I wonder if my cooking would have the same effect on her...

Odds are with my cooking though, she wouldn't be in a coma because it was so good - and it would probably involve an ambulance.