Someone once said “House guests are like fish; they stink after three days.” Now, don’t get me wrong – we’ve got some absolutely fantastic friends, and I’m thrilled whenever any of them makes the trip out to visit us. Humorously, since we moved to the rather phenomenal Bay Area, and have a house with a rather comfy guest room, the amount of emails and calls we’ve gotten from family and friends alike that involve the words “So I was thinking, it’d be really cool to hang out, maybe I’ll buy a ticket and come visit!” have skyrocketed.

I mean, c’mon. This place is fantastic! You’d be nuts NOT to visit!

The steady stream has kicked our arses and left us jaded, though. In 2009, we had nine different visits from various folks and couples. And that’s not even counting locals like Professor Mike, who’ll crash here on occasion. Nine!!!

Ordinarily, the visit is fantastic. It’s fun, invigorating, and enjoyable. And I like to think that we do what we can to make sure our visitors have as good a time as possible. But Christ if the occasional one comes through that just takes the piss.

Caveat: It’s not someone who would be reading this blog.

Sinbad – shitty comedian, shittier houseguest?

Friends and family share. No problem with that. But fuck me if it doesn’t piss me off when someone rolls through and takes advantage of it. The beer fridge gets decimated, we get eaten out of house and home, and after they’ve left with a mumbled “thanks for letting us crash” we pick up the pieces from the trashed bathroom and spare room that looks like Led Zeppelin just stayed there. I mean Christ, we tell everyone to help themselves, but most folks have the common sense to maybe toss a six pack or two into the beer fridge if they’re indulging, or replace a few of the groceries, or offer to take us out to dinner, or something.

I dunno. Maybe I’m overreacting, or maybe I’m just jaded from having so many visitors in a relatively short time.

Oh, and happy new year!!

Hey, relax. I’m right here. Been busy.

Holy crap, I haven’t posted since September? Jesus…

Yes, busy. Up the walls with work, who’d have thought adding the Transcript and Journal to my plate would fill it up the way it did? And as soon as one’s done, the other rolls into town. But hey, at least I’ve still got the job…

When I’m not working, I have people visiting. Honestly, that’s been the way of it. As mentioned before, my sis came out for a week, along with her husband Bob. I don’t get to see her nearly enough, so was a treat to have her make the trip, especially with Bob, a bloke I enjoy immensely. (Wait… that sounds wrong…) They had a good time (at least I think they did) with us even introducing them to the SF Giants half the nights they stayed with us! And of course as soon as they headed out, we had a quick weekend of running about doing housey stuff, before our next set of guests showed up. We’ve got Bennie heading out for two weeks (!!) later this month, which we’re excited about.

Brewing’s still been going on. To sum up so far: First batch, Java Brown, hit and miss (some bottles tasted excellent, others tasted like carbonated cold coffee). Second batch, chocholate stout – fecked up big time adding the cocoa powder at the last minute. Third batch, Honey Orange Vanilla Crema – absolutely awful, although Jeret loved it. Fourth batch, Mocha Porter. Here’s where things get interesting. This beer actually came out REALLY well, and tasted great, although over time it developed that metallic/medicinal “twang” the three previous beers had. But that first bottle? Outstanding – which immediately proved to me that we weren’t cleaning our bottles properly, and our beer was gettin’ funky from the brewing. But the real eye opener for this batch, was when we ran out of 12oz bottles at bottling, and we switched to bumpers. There was still a gallon left in the carboy, so for shits and giggles I dumped in a quarter bottle of bourbon, and about an ounce of vanilla. And good GOD, the stuff was tasty!! So much so, I brewed an entire 5 gallon batch of it myself. (Still aging, will let you know how it tastes.) We’ve also got a winter ale (Santa’s Bulging Sack) bottled and aging, as well as an Anderson Valley Summer Solstice clone that’s in the carboy waiting to be bottled. Mmm, beer!

Outside of work, visits, and homebrew, there’s not a lot going on. Holidays are fast approaching, Christmas shopping is done (need to get stuff in the post for Jacqui and the Lehane boys!) and in a fortnight the office shuts down until January 4. Until then tho, I got a magazine to get out, so I best get back to work!

Two weeks since the last update, which honestly feels like yesterday. Where has 2009 gone?

The opening barrage of the Premiership has seen Liverpool… well, play like shite, really. Already two losses in the books, to Spurs and to Aston Villa. They tried their bloody best to lose another one this weekend to Bolton – or rather Jamie Carragher did, whose best days in a red jersey seem to be behind him. All he seems to do these days is cock up, followed by hopping around shouting and blaming everyone else (sounds like me, actually…)

Brewing’s been going well. The brown ale is in the bottle, awaiting carbonation. We stuffed it in there Tuesday, so only six days, which means there’ll be feck all yet – but that doesn’t stop me having to fight off temptation “just to crack one open to see”. We’ll be brewing up batch 3 this weekend – a honey vanilla cream ale, inspired by Anderson Valley’s Cerveza Crema – and will crack bottle #01 then. Fingers are crossed.

Meanwhile, the Impossible Imperial Chocolate Stout is in secondary, and looking blacker than Dick Cheney’s heart. Tastes pretty good too – lotsa malt, and a hint of chocolate. Certainly hoping that the flavour balances out over the next couple of weeks in the carboy, followed by a few months of bottle conditioning. We definitely need to give it a wee chocolate boost, which we’ll do at bottling with a little chocolate essence, but this is one that’s going to be REALLY hard to avoid opening early. (Jeret’s will be gone by Christmas…)

Speaking of beer, I’m never drinking again. Jeret’s 30th birthday saw a group of us go out and get sauced at Fly Bar in the city. Numerous pints of Brother David Triple snuck up on me and kicked my arse, rewarding me with stupid judgement and the hangover from hell. Stupid judgement, you ask? Yep, Jeret’s handmade 30th Birthday Present (a locked wooden case inspired by JC’s kickass Trillium beer crates, stuffed with 12 of Jeret’s favourite bumpers) was sitting in the car to give to him at the end of the night. Only I decided to leave the bar and run to snag it. And, of course, I thought it’d be a good idea to try and balance it on my shoulder while locking the car up, and it ended up sliding off, smashing, and taking half the beer with it. Grrr.

In other news, I got off my arse and did the 5K plate to plate run yesterday with Tracee, Jeret, and Anna. I haven’t done any form of running in a few years, other than chasing after a ball, so I was a bit nervous. Especially since Jeret’s been training for it for two months, and Anna was able to knock off the SF Marathon. Happily though, I was able to motor through it without stopping or slowing down, finishing in 30:41. Would have been a minute or two quicker too, if I didn’t have to negotiate around throngs of people who decided they just wanted to walk it, and pulled numerous Crazy Ivans all over the course. This was followed by a most excellent baseball game, where we got to watch the Giants sweep the Rockies to get into the last wildcard slot for the playoffs (well, temporarily, at least). So while Liverpool are circling the drain, at least the local baseball team are doing alright!

My sister’s getting here in a week. Looking forward to it, while at the same time not. Love her to bits, there’s just a lot of work we need to get done before she gets in, and having ANYONE stay with for a week is always a test of my patience. But there’ll be plenty to do, and a good time will be had. The day she flies out, I’m supposed to be heading north to Tahoe for a mountain biking weekend with Michael, but work has decided to make that Friday a mandatory staff meeting. I’m furiously trying to get out of it, but not looking good, damnit…

Wow, apparently so. Fair amount’s happened in the past few weeks since the last post.

First up, work. Conference went well by all reports, despite the “legal issues” surrounding our esteemed Prez. As that was going on, I managed to whack out the magazine, which was greeted with much applause and back patting. Seems like I’m capable of doing my job AFTER all, and it would have been a rather stupid move to give me the old heave ho, eh Mr. President? Alas, rather than make this statement to the afforementioned Prez, he fell on his sword and resigned. So all change at the office again, but the atmosphere is a lot better back there, and people have reported that they now wake up for work singing this.

Not an image I want in my head. (Shudders)

In other news, we managed to disappear up to the cabin for a long weekend. Myself, Tracee, Professor Mike, and Jarod were joined by a pair of lovesick teenage kids. Awww, just kiddin’ Michael, but you did almost induce vomiting at a few points! (That might have been the copious amounts of beer…) As usual, a good time was had by all, and the beer served an extra purpose – creating empties for the newly formed….

Ta-daaa! Yep, not satisfied with buying the brewing equipment, I’m getting all obsessive about things as usual, so Long and Short Brewing has a name. And a logo. But more importantly, two (count ‘em, TWO!) brews in progress. The brown ale which is unofficially titled Ol’ Dirty Bastard, and a – wait for it – double chocolate imperial stout to be referred to as “Whenin Doubt – Chocolate Stout”.

The brown hits bottles next weekend, while the chocolate stout’s not going to be drinkable for another 6 months or so. Which means we’ll have to make a couple more stopgap brews to tide us over until we crack that mutha’!

Other than that, not a lot going on. Michael will be furiously dialling me when he reads that my arse hasn’t been on my bike at all in the past month – thanks to crappy scheduling for work, being out of town or busy doing other crap (cabin, roped into wife-related events, in-law invasions, etc.), my riding partner disappearing for two weeks on vacation (how dare he!!) and – I’ll be honest here – lack of motivation to ride dusty as feck trails in the height of summer. The result is that the past month has seen zero weight loss – but has also seen zero weight gain. But being on my duffer is certainly not going to see me in good stead when we ride Tahoe next month. (I know, Michael, I know…)

Footy season kicks off this weekend (another excuse to not ride!), with Liverpool in action against Spurs. Have to say, the confidence that our strong finish had given me for this campaign’s worn off with our activity in the transfer market. Two players out – one of whom was our player of the season – to be replaced by two similar players. Glen Johnson steps in for Arbeloa, which in fairness is an upgrade, while Xabi Alonso’s replacement is Alberto Aquilani – a tremendous talent when he’s not on the treatment table being nursed with some injury or another. Indeed, the guy’s not even available to play for us for another month, as he recovers from ankle surgery.

Christ!

So, um, Gerrard and Nando? Up to you two. Again.

Right, I’m off to bed. Night night!

SAN RAFAEL (Reuters) – Beleagured, bald, belligerent, and still overweight Irishman Gaz was resting comfortably at his San Rafael home today, after a large simian escaped from his rectum. The cause of the incident is still unknown, but experts believe it may have had something to do with USA beating Spain 2-0 in the Confederations Cup. The monkey could not be reached for comment.

Seriously, I didn’t see THAT coming. Truth be told, I was so buried in work I completely forgot about the game, until JB shot me a text half time, asking if I was watching Spain losing to the US. Whaaaa?

Fair play to the US team – they defended REALLY well, Timmy Tourettes was phenomenal in goal for them, and they took their two chances well (because in fairness, that’s all they had – two chances!) Spain, on the other hand, rained hell and damnation on the US area, but just couldn’t crack them open. They seemed predictable at best, and certainly didn’t look like a team that was considered unbeatable. Bummer that we’ve been robbed of a Brazil v Spain final, but I suppose I’ll have to wait until next year for the World Cup final for that…

Work’s on my tits. Conference time is usually bad enough, but throwing in the need to design a magazine from the ground up adds to the fun. Actually, no – what REALLY adds to the fun is when the editor of said magazine disappears for a two week holiday, meaning yours truly didn’t get the articles until the arse end of last week. No, that’s okay – I have a magic button that I just press that makes finished design pieces. Suuuure I do…

Course what makes that even BETTER is when your computer decides to shit the bed, meaning I had to spend all day yesterday wiping it and reinstalling EVERYTHING.

So with that, little time to ride. In fact, haven’t hit China Camp in over a fortnight thanks to the work schedule and the fork issues I had. But even though I’m not riding the trails, I’m at least on the trainer downstairs. Thank Jebus for that thing, otherwise I’d be going mental.

Sigh, back to work…

Minor bragging. Excellent footy match today – put in 4 miles, won 2-0, didn’t put a foot wrong. In fact both goals scored by yours truly, and nice they were. Should have had a couple of helpers too, but people on my team couldn’t @#$# finish. Came home, feeling good, saw the scale sitting there in the corner.

Taunting me.

Come on, fatboy, you haven’t lost an ounce the last two weighdays. You know it’s time. Waddle over here, and take your medicine.

Seven days. One short ride, one short hike, one decent hike, two footy games, two sessions on the bike trainer, and sticking to the diet like glue.

Down 4lbs.

I’m back, baby!

In other news, United’s good luck charm is offski. £80 million later, and Ronaldo’s off to Real Madrid. While on one hand, it’s terrifying knowing that they have that much money in their pockets now, I’m giddy at the news – the two players that saved United’s arse last season were Ronaldo and Tevez, and it’s looking like neither of them will be at Old Trafford next year. Add to that the fact that Giggs and Scholes are past it, Van Der Sar’s getting up there as well, and you KNOW Ferguson’s not going to have the entire wad to spend on new players (not with the debt they have), and they’re looking likely to get knocked off their perch next season!

And the icing on the cake, is that I think I sold my 29er singlespeed wheels! Hooray!
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Now playing: The Weeks – Buttons
via FoxyTunes

I guess the dead leg had it’s desired effect.

Tried riding with JB yesterday, but bugged out when the climbing started. I had no wind whatsoever, and to make matters even better, my quad started screaming at me once the climbing actually started. Of course, the big bowl of Pho I had for lunch wasn’t helping either. So, while JB continued on, I had to do a 180 and limp back to his place. Of course, the cherry on top of it all was JB making it back to the house less than 10 minutes after me. That’s right, he was able to hammer out the climb, and took Joe’s trail back down in not too much longer than it took me to ride about two miles back to the house, on pavement.

And I guess the lack of exercise this week, combined with another weekend of crappy eating with Mikey and Asia, explains why for the second week in a row, I haven’t lost a @#$# ounce.

Oh well, head up, keep going!! Here’s something to cheer myself up – my favourite two malnourished skinny basts!

Ahh, Mick McCarthy, the former manager of the Irish football team, uttered that immortal phrase describing him being close to losing his job. Well, today I found out mine’s in there too, ready to be razored into streaky back.

An email was sent out by the head honcho last week, announcing that our budget for the upcoming fiscal year was short. Waaaaay short. And that we, as an Association, needed to come together, and find out ways to make cuts, so the last resort doesn’t happen – staff layoffs.

Well, turned out it took less than a week for the last resort to rear it’s ugly head. I flipped on the mac this morning to find an ominous email from my boss. It read simply “Call me. We need to talk.”

A phone call to some folks back in the office later had me shitting bricks. More like cinder blocks, actually. Nobody knew of anything going down, but less than a minute later, my phone lit up like a Christmas tree going for a smoke break. Firings on a scale we hadn’t seen before – 20% of the folks in the office were told they were being let go. (That’s the sound of more bricks dropping behind me…)

Finally I got in touch with el bossette. Seems I was indeed destined to be one of the unlucky ones, but she lobbied on my behalf. Pointed out that letting me go would cost us more than we saved, since we’d need to pay an outside agency to do what I do. Fine, then we cut him to part-time. Nope, he does too much, we’d still need to either hire him on for additional hours, or hire an agency to pick up the slack. Okay, fine he stays, but you need to find a way to have him save $30,000. Which we can do, it just happens to be what we pay an outside agency to do our quarterly magazine (which I’ve suggested be brought in-house time and time again, since it NEVER made sense to me to farm it out when yours truly can do it.)

So, the upshot is that I still have a job, but by balls came ->this<- close to the bandsaw today.

I'm still hyperventilating.

In other news, I'm now down 12lbs total. Which is nice. 30 more to go. Headed up to the cabin for work weekend, got a lot done, but also indulged a little too much in food I shouldn't have. But I suppose that was somewhat offset by being outside working all day. Still, annoyed at my lapse in willpower. I'm gonna have to do some extra running at footy today as penance. Supposed to be going riding tomorrow with JB, but he needs to do it a little earlier - given the events of today, the last thing I need to be doing is bunking off early to go ride. So maybe I'll have to postpone that, or just ride solo later in the day...

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Now playing: Nirvana – Negative Creep
via FoxyTunes

Slipped under the radar a bit, but where were most of the folks reading this blog (both of you) two years ago? That’s right, Carmel, California, watching me and Tee getting hitched. And of course, the morning after was the 11th anniversary of yours truly ending up in America.

Yep, 13 years ago (yesterday), my skinny (yes, it was skinny back then, it was before I discovered all-you-can-eat buffets and Mexican food) arse got off the plane in Detroit. Wow, that seemed like a good idea at the time. Thankfully it seemed to work out…

It deserves it’s own post.

Anyone who’s been in regular contact with me over the past couple of months knows I’ve been having dental issues of an English proportion. To sum up, I broke a tooth, had to get a root canal, went back to the dentist, was told I can’t get a permanent crown until I have periodontal surgery (which involves shaving bone and gum off from around the tooth, since the break went below the gumline.) In the meantime, I had to enjoy two sessions of root planing (where they go under the afforementioned gumline to shave out all the tartar and gingivitis underneath), and a few fillings to boot.

So today, at noon, I cycled down to the dentist for the last 0.2 miles of my dental marathon. The temporary crown was yanked out, and $1,200 worth of crown was megaglued to the odd-looking stumpy spiky thing. 11 trips to the dentist in 3 months (initial with x-rays, root canal, first temporary crown, cleaning, two sessions of root planing, two sessions of fillings, periodontal surgery, second temporary crown/fitting, and permanent crown) and something like $5,000 later, I’m done for the next six months. Checky!!

So let this be a lesson to whoever reading this. Don’t be like me, and only go to the dentist when there’s a problem. If I’d gone in for a checkup every year like a normal person, the cavity that lead to the tooth breaking would have just been a filling instead of two major (one of ‘em really feckin’ painful) dental surgeries and an arseload of cash. I know for damn sure I’ll be getting checkups regularly from here on in.

Ooh, and in other news, for anyone interested, the results of diet week one is down 4 pounds. 10% of the way there.

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Now playing: The Beautiful Girls – Under A Southern Sky
via FoxyTunes