Daddy-O’s Birthday

“It took a long time to get here,” he said, and I guess it did. My family celebrated my dad’s birthday last weekend, his 90th. And just for the record, I’ve never seen 90 look so good on anyone. If you want an example of what clean living, well relatively clean living, can do for you … here it is:

Sparkling eyes, wit, good looks, and charm, he’s got it all.

Daddy decided we could best celebrate at one of his favorite restaurants, Red Lobster. That motion was seconded by Daniel, since birthdays are good enough reasons to eat lobster in his book. Well, any reason is good enough for Daniel, but Grandaddy’s birthday seemed like an extra special reason.

My sister, Pam, and my brother-in-law, Don, met us at the restaurant where the festivities began. Here we are preparing to snip and snap and crack into lobster tails and crab legs. Good choice, Daddy-O!

We had another secret party prepared after our Red Lobster party, but our waiter asked me if we at least wanted the staff to sing the Happy Birthday song to Daddy, and so they sang it to him, landlubber style. Yo ho ho and a bottle of, uhm (and you thought I’d say rum!) … Happy Birthday to you …

Then we all crawled into our cars to go to my sister’s house. Crawled because we were too full to walk. Oh, not really! We just considered crawling. First we drove to my sister’s new home, still under construction. We were hoping to burn up excess energy and calories during this stop, so that we could comfortably proceed with the second half of the celebration. We didn’t burn so many calories, but the new home is going to be lovely!

Next stop, Pam’s & Don’s current house to party down some more. Pam made a most excellent German Chocolate Birthday Cake, complete with candles announcing the occasion. Good thing I read the message before they were lit, because those candles burned fast!

Here’s Daddy singing himself a little ditty for his birthday … hurry Daddy, the candles are disappearing! We all sang with him, of course.

Oh well, I always loved a little wax with my German Chocolate cake! By that time we could manage to eat cake & ice cream without bursting. Just had to go home and put on the expando-pants afterwards.

Below, the sweetest picture of all …

Daddy opening the card that Momma gave him.

Happy Birthday, Daddy. We love you! You are one cool Daddy-O!

The Long and Sleepy Day

I don’t typically blog about work, mainly because I’d like to keep my job. One of the all time not smart and otherwise big no-no things to do is to take out on-the-job frustrations bloggie-style. I wonder how many people have been fired because they blogged about work, rather non-anonymously? Pity that it’s a minefield because there are some real characters at my office. Not that I would write anything BAD, but some days are pretty interesting around the ol’ water cooler.

Of course, blogging about work wouldn’t be so taboo if I had only good things to say, which for the most part is true. Aside from the character studies, it wouldn’t be particularly interesting anyway. Most people are like me, I figure. Their days on the job fall somewhere in the middle on the job satisfaction continuum. A little excitement sometimes, a little chance to grow skills sometimes, and a little … I’m just going to come out with it right now … godawful boredom sometimes. Today, and for the last couple of days, I’ve been godawful bored at work, in large part because I’m cleaning up messes made during the fury of previous days.

It’s good to have those days to catch up, but they are just plain dull all the same. After a few hours of where do I put that piece of paper and what in the heck is this, my brain goes on autopilot. My eyes twitch, and I look for something, anything, other than the task in front of me. I’ll strain to examine the scratch on my left lens, or decide I need to count my paper clips to ensure I have enough of each size, or try out all my rubberbands to make sure they’re good and stretchy. Then the fatigue really sets in, and I can’t concentrate on paperclips or anything else anymore, and I start to talk to myself. Hopefully, silently, but I’m not so sure. Go ahead, I say, no one will notice if I close my eyes. I won’t even lay my head down, I’ll just sit right here and close my eyes for just a couple of ittybitty minutes. It’s all good, it won’t be for long and I’ll wake up energetic, productive, and no one will be the wiser. Uh-huh, girl, just do it! Unbelievably, the only two times I have actually nodded off at work, at least that I remember, the CEO’s executive assistant managed to walk into my office just as I was thinking, ah hell, I gotta wake my ass up before someone catches me sleeping!!! At which point I jerked my eyes open and in she walked. Or did she come in during my 30-second nap? Just act cool, no sleeping going on in here, not me, no sirreeeee … I’ve got too much work to do!

No, my job is not so dull that I sleep at work regularly. As I said, only twice in two and one-half years that I know of, and only for 30 seconds at a pop, thereabouts, I think. Probably after nights when I stayed up too long watching TV or Facebooking, or reading blogs! Although, I will go on record here and now that I would not be opposed to a company-wide afternoon siesta.