Ash the Mighty

One of major selling points about my employer is the amazing (and I do mean Ah-Maze-ing) health benefits which are offered through the company, virtually free of charge. It’s through Blue Cross/Blue Shield and the things that we get, I truly shudder to think of how much they must cost my employer. Because seriously, wow.

And yet I hardly ever use this outstanding insurance (other than my monthly prescription for my migraine meds . . . which is plenty).

Why? Because big, burly, has-been-known-to-actually-walk-through-ghettos-because-it’s-shorter Ash is fucking TERRIFIED of doctors.

Like for realz. Hospitals are where people go to die. And doctors. Well, doctors know fuckall.

That said, I’ve been really sick recently. To be precise, I’ve been mentally ill for pretty much ever, I’ve had physical ailments for years, I’ve had a sinus infection for probably a few months, and I’ve had a chest cold for about two weeks. I thought I had kicked the cold and could go back to just ignoring the rest of it like I always did when I woke up a couple of days ago with my whole face a mass of pain. It felt not only like the sinus pressure and pain had gotten worse, but like the infection had probably spread into my jaw or something (which is likely, to be honest).

SO, I bit the bullet and called my doctor’s office . . . which was of course closed. Keep in mind I wake up for work at 7:30pm. So I suffered through it all until yesterday morning when I could make an appointment and sneak in to see my Doc.

Now there’s not THAT much about this doctor that makes him so very much better than any other, except that he’s an actual human being. I like this. I approve. When I first started seeing him and told him I knew I was fat and he didn’t need to belabor the fact, he didn’t. We talk music. A LOT. He dresses . . . well he dresses so much better than any straight man I know I sometimes wonder, but hey, you know I don’t judge. And what’s more is when I got sick two years ago BADLY with whatever the hell it was, he actually tried to help me figure it out and when my work gave me the run around with FMLA he got on the phone with the HR department personally and stood up for me. This was awesome.

So the Doc takes one look up my nose, swears and says that he’s shocked I’m even upright due to the massive infection raging in my skull. And then he sits me down and doesn’t so much offer as informs me that it’s time I go on to some blood pressure medication. This . . . this is not something I was thrilled about. I’ve always known it was coming. I come from a long line of high blood pressure (thanks MOM AND DAD!!) and my sister just had to give birth to a two month preemie baby because of high BP, but it’s still not something I want to do.

I let him write me the script though. I know that I’ve been known to be . . . well some less-than-charitable souls might describe me as “stubborn.” But I still recognize that maybe dying of a heart attack at the age of 30 might suck. So, let’s take his stupid pills. Let’s cut down on the salt (and apparently pseudophedrine? Really?!). I already have cut way down on things like fast food and crap like that. But caffeine? ALCOHOL?! FUCK. YOU.

There’s living past 30 and there’s wanting to live past 30.

~Ash.

Not so much sleepy as exhausted.

I used to look at people who would talk about them working on their twentieth plus day in a row of work or some such without a day off as if they had just grown another head. I had no clue how they could possibly do that. Heck, I voluntarily took an unpleasant work schedule just so that I could have an extra day off.

Well now I am apparently the king of this behaviour. I currently find myself right in the middle of a cycle which will not have me taking a day off until I will have been working for 5 weeks in a row (that would be 35 days, for those who can’t keep up with the math). Even that is only so little because I took a couple of days off because my niece was born and my baby sister was in the hospital! Were that discounted, it would be more like 7 weeks. My next days off will be two days off I’m taking mid-March for St. Patrick’s Day during which time I will be seeing Flogging Molly (and of course the day after I had to take off for recognition of National Hangover Day).

After that it’s the same ol’ thing for another two weeks. No rest for the wicked until Faire is over. After that, presuming I stay on the same schedule, I’ll get my weekends back and maybe I’ll actually have some recognizable time off. I’m planning on jetting out of town the absolute first weekend I can. I want to get out to California (San Diego, I hope) to feel the sand between my toes and to hear the waves breaking. It’s been far too close to a decade since I’ve stepped foot on the California shore. This bothers me.

Maybe I can even find a crazy-but-not-too-crazy blue-eyed pretty piece of work to come with me to keep me company. Hey, weirder things have happened! You don’t know!

~A.

I met someone new today. Someone who is going to change the lives of so many people who are so VERY important to me.

Today I met my niece, Sophie Elizabeth Marshall.

She was born almost two full months premature. She weighed only 3 pounds and 1 ounce. She is 16 and 1/4 inches long. And I already adore her.

Not in the same way as I adore other women in my life. Young Miss Ruby Michaels, for instance. Much much differently. There really is just something special about knowing that this little person will be carrying on your bloodline, no matter how tangentially . . .

Yes, alright. I’ll admit it. I want children sometimes. Not all of the time. I see them too often at their worst, with the snot and the crying and the ” But I wanna go HOME!!!”s, but still. When one is faced with such beauty and perfection (even when in a plastic bubble because they are so very frighteningly fragile), one can’t help but want that for one’s self.

The problem now only compounds the previous though. Before it was just how does one find a suitable mate who is beautiful and funny and intelligent and MY kind of crazy without being too much of any of the other kinds, etc, etc . . . but now she ALSO wants to have kids. Greeeaaaaaatttttttt. Cause THAT doesn’t have disaster written ALL over it!

Good one, Ash.

~Me.

Oh, and pictures of my darling niece can be found at BlackHole Photography . . .

Effing EVERYONE that I work with is breaking up. Seriously. If I was in a relationship at all I would be absolutely paranoid that I would be next. As it is, I feel a little bad, like maybe on some level I caused it, or that at the very least I was that little starting pebble in the grand avalanche which is the disaster of my department’s love life. At one point in time not too long ago (OK, like four or five months ago) there was maybe one or two single people in my department. Now I believe there is maybe one or two people still in relationships.

And we’re not just talking little breakups here. We’re talking live in fiances splitting. Messy divorces (and/or people TALKING divorce). Things of that nature. It’s getting plain ol’ eerie.

Lately I also feel like I shouldn’t so much be getting paid for my expertise with computers as with my mad relationship skillz. Not that I mind trying to help people out, of course. It’s just yet another thing that I have to privately have a chuckle about, that the guy who can’t get a girl to stick around to save his soul is still really pretty decent at helping with other peoples’ love life. Story of my freakin’ life.

So THAT’S fun.

~A.

So-random-confession-in-hopes-that-I-will-actually-start-blogging-again: The one and only reason that I ever hope to get a raise in this world is so that I can buy more toys. Seriously, I know that that’s the end result for pretty much everyone, but I actually set out to get promotions and whatnot because I feel some vague need to buy something expensive which I will love with all my heart right up until I put it down one day and it turns into another Dust Gathering Item.

I need a hobby.

Ooooooh, I bet I could buy stuff for that!

~Ash.

P.S. So the iSlate (or iPad or iTablet) is (probably) being announced tomorrow. And yes, I am totally considering applying for a promotion. Don’t you judge me, Frozen Iguana.

I happened to be at work and noticed this article on the BBC, which talks about how the Black Watch (which has a long, and not-always-glorious-at-all tradition, but is now kindof the symbolic Scottish regiment) has returned from their tour of duty in Afghanistan.

They are being welcomed back to their native country with parades through several different cities and in the article itself on an INTERNATIONAL NEWS SOURCE the regiment was able to list their dead and tell the world of their accomplishments. For the record, there were five dead out of over 400 soldiers (400 are marching in the parade, I can only imagine that there were more serving) and their accomplishments were quite in order with what even a cynic such as I would imagine of a people who had fought off superior forces of invaders for their entire history.

It would be so incredibly wonderful if we as a country would even be able to do such a thing. To welcome home OUR soldiers with parades across the country. To be able to succinctly list our dead as the heroes that they are and celebrate theirs and their brethren’s amazing feats of daring and strength and (hopefully) nobility in combat as they come home to not have to leave again.

Ah, if only!

Just thought I’d share. Happy Holidays everyone.

~Ash.

So I went to see the Phantom of the Opera play at Grady Gammage Auditorium in Tempe tonight with a friend of mine, Mary who I know through both Faire and Southwest Shakespeare Company (it should be noted also that she is a Theatre Major). While I was on my way, I saw a tweet from a friend of mine from work saying that he would be there too. As such things go, I didn’t think much of it, because without fail, even in an auditorium which seats several thousand, I knew I’d run into him. It’s just the way of things.

I met up with Mary and we had a great dinner at Rula Bula, and then headed over. We got there just in time to get into our seats (which were AMAZING. Row 10, dead center. THANKS MOM!!!) and during intermission, sure enough, my friend Dante was just four rows behind us and a bit stage right. We really only waved because we’re classy like that and don’t shout (totally being ironic here. Were this the MAC I would totally have shouted, but I had a suit on for Chrissakes).

Here’s the point to all this rambling. As intermission was coming to a close, I get a text from Dante asking if we wanted to go backstage after the show. Wha- wha- WHA–?!? It turns out his parents are stage hands for the production and his dad is a master carpenter. So in short the answer is “HELLS YEAH!!” I think Mary would have choked me out then and there if I had answered anything different.

Mary and me in front of the Chandelier which figures in the famous . . . DISASTER.

So after the INCREDIBLY well acted and sung production (seriously, I would say one of the best Phantoms and Raouls I’ve ever seen), we met up with Dante and his grandmother (his date. Awwww. No, really. I think that’s a really good thing for someone to do) and we trooped on backstage, where I learned all sorts of just fascinating tidbits which I wanted to record.

• Phantom is the longest running Broadway play in history. It has never gone dark. But that means it has ALSO never been updated. So it is running on all the same technology as when it first started. The state-of-the-art technology that it was designed around 20 plus years ago must now be custom repaired at great expense because it simply doesn’t exist anywhere else in the world anymore.
• The boat is remote controlled. I always thought it was on a track. The remote control is the size of a large lunchbox.
• All stage hands, even locals, are in full costume. When the elephant turns around and there are people drinking inside? Local stagehands who helped push it out in the first place.
• Carlotta’s costume for the “Hannibal” scene weighs in excess of 70 lbs.
• The touring show has twenty-one (that’s a two and a one) semis to bring sets/costumes, etc from town to town.
• There are two sets of several set pieces so that one set can go in advance to the next town and construction can begin because it is so complicated.
• I love this show even more now having seen just how much WORK goes into it. It is IN. TENSE.

Just had to share and remember some of this stuff. Thanks for letting me ramble a bit. Oh, and Mary and Dante (and Dante’s folks — sorry I’ve forgotten your names — ), you guys absolutely made my week! Thanks a million!!

~Ash.

I’m not saying that I actively despise flying, but that’s only because I’m sitting here hoping to be able to do so in the very near future and I don’t really want to piss off whichever god happens to preside over heavier-than-air travel (and yes, there MUST be a god of it, because I still maintain that it just shouldn’t be possible). But I will say that I would rather be pretty much anywhere else at this moment, up to and including seeing a doctor . . . and we ALL know how much I enjoy those.

Why do I hate it so much? Well besides the afore-mentioned fact that it just shouldn’t work, there’s the fact that it frequently DOESN’T. I’m not talking about planes falling out of the sky or anything (though that happens too, and I’m not thrilled about it). I’m talking more about the alarming regularity in which travelers (you know, just like me) find themselves stranded in random airports all across the country/globe, with nothing to do but sit in incredibly uncomfortable plastic chairs and just kinda stare at each other.

Now I admit that it’s hard to place blame on any human the issues that we’re having here. Parts of Colorado have had in excess of 30 inches of snow in 2 days, and so it’s hard to keep an international airport open and functioning at capacity in those circumstances. That said, the woman who is sitting next to me had her flight routed TO here from their original layover destination of Las Vegas. Just checked the weather, there are no issues there. I mean, it could be there were security or other unknown issues with that airport, but really? REALLY? When there’s a state-closing blizzard going on that is stranding people and canceling flights? You re-route here?

OMFG. A woman just carried a monkey onto an airplane. No, I’m not kidding.

OK, I’m done. This day just got way too insane. Just. Wow.

~Ash.

Well, Arizona is finally changing seasons. How do we know? Because I’m feeling like hell. Set in last night that I started feeling like crap, and then it just got worse. Me sleeping in did nothing to help. Well, it helped a LITTLE, but not recognizably.

So that’s fun.

In other news, I’ve started my new gig at work (and hopefully I’ll even be able to make it in come Friday). It’s interesting but HARD work. I am definitely learning so much more than I have basically since I first started in this department. Every day it’s something new. And we’re not just talking department procedural stuff. No, we’re talking these really intricate scripts that I’m learning how to modify and write myself which can make the servers and Plesk (the control panels that most of these servers run) do truly amazing things.

As usual, I can’t really go into too many details cause it’s work and all, but it is pretty cool. It would just be nice if for most of my week there were some more people there. Just the down side of working the third shift . . .

ANYWAY. That’s all I’ve got. Gonna go get take a short nap and see if that makes me all better . . .

Take care everyone,
~A.

There are all sorts of reasons, even some good ones, for people not doing their jobs. They’re being inundated with work (maybe other people aren’t doing their own for example), they’re untrained, circumstances beyond their control are causing their own jobs to be impossible to be completed.

But when it’s just flat out NOT. GETTING. DONE . . . Makes an AshMonster see red.

Now two things have happened recently which makes me a little angry. One happened to my dear friend Meggan, and it’s something that isn’t entirely the other person’s fault, and it’s something that actually happened to me as well, for all that I didn’t blog about it. For the last week, Meggan and her family (including her darling newborn, Ruby) were in Hawai’i for the Ironman Triathlon finals which her father was competing in. When trying to return home, her flight was delayed by over 24 hours, and she was told she would need to sit in the VERY warm airport lobby with a small baby. This. Just. Doesn’t. Work. Like I said, this exact thing happened when my family was in Hawai’i two years ago and they similarly just kept us there despite knowing it would be HOURS. If you know of this delay, you arrange a cheap motel or SOMETHING. If there’s a small child, you DEFINITELY figure something out. Don’t just shrug your shoulders, you heartless cows.

Then there’s me. I can’t get into TOO many of the details because it’s work related, but suffice to say I will not be spending ANY money for the next two weeks due to a paycheck SNAFU, at which point I will get a HUGE one. Has there been an apology? No. Was ANYONE prompt in addressing the situation? No. Did anyone even address the situation at all until I went in and raised hell four days after I originally pointed out there was a problem? Um, no. I was of course livid and am only slightly less so now. Really . . . it’s a timecard. It’s NOT that hard to mess up. I ensure I punch in and out. You just have to ensure that it’s not been messed up in any other way, people.

SO ANYWAY. That’s just some of the hi jinks that ensue when unmitigated incompetence is allowed to roam free. So please, lock up your incompetence. The person it hurts may be someone you love.

~Ash.