Back again to the 30 Day Song Challenge. I swear I'll finish before I turn 31 (I hope).
It's Day 28 - A Song that Makes You Feel Guilty.
This song hit me on the way to work last week. I was innocently singing along, even though I had only heard it once before, when I started to cry. I could not believe the heartache and anguish I felt while absorbing the lyrics. I haven't been able to listen to it since without choking up, but I think it may be my favorite song from the album.
bulletproofAngel, The Goo Goo Dolls, Magnetic, 2013
This song is from the Goo Goo Dolls new CD, just released last week (thank you 2 day delivery Amazon Prime). The first time I listened to this song I really didn't like it. I'm not quite sure why, but the first impression just didn't do it for me. But when I actually listened to the lyrics, it completely changed my perspective.
This hits my emotions in so many places. First, the message I pull is that there are so many people in our world--whether it's your neighborhood, workplace or community--that we don't notice or don't take the time to hear their stories. There have been plenty of times that I have felt unfairly judged because people don't know me or know my situation. I certainly know I'm guilty of the same.
The second primary message of this song for me revolves around mental health issues and under-served populations. Here Johnny spins a woman in poverty (who is probably there because of untreated mental health problems) to an enlightened soul who sees the truth. It's certainly a romantic view, but it also breaks my heart. We are so unequipped as a nation to help the masses that struggle. We don't value the general well-being of the working poor (or even middle class, but that's a blue post for later). Years ago, when I started in the nonprofit industry, it was generally agreed upon by agencies in my town that most public agencies could not recognize a person afflicted with mental health issues (and no, it's not always as obvious as hearing an invisible choir). Now, unfortunately due to the economic downturn and rise in gun violence, mental health issues have become a talking point, but little more.
This song makes me feel guilty because I'm happy and healthy and comfortable in my life. I've worked hard to get where I am, but I know there are so many people around me struggling for so many reasons.
I will never be able to do enough to solve the world's--or even one person's---problems. And sometimes I simply don't have the emotional energy to listen or try.
Day 29 is A Favorite Song from Your Childhood (no guarantees of when this post will come).
Check out Day 28 or start with Day 1 (A Goo Goo Doll Classic)
Showing posts with label Writing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Writing. Show all posts
Monday, June 17, 2013
Monday, April 22, 2013
A television war between the cynics and the saints
Sometimes, I become disheartened with the world or the people around me. There are so many things that challenge our morals and beliefs. There's always those "hot button" issues that have extreme sides. So few of us, in these issues, can come to the middle and say it's not that I'm right and you're wrong, but maybe we both have valid points. We grow confident when we are the majority, but some shout even louder when very few stand with them.
Our interconnected always plugged in nature only emphasizes the issues, the arguments and sometimes, the hate. I have to hold my tongue (or fingers) when it comes to reacting to the opinions of the people around me.
Of course, around election time is nearly unbearable. At one point, I saw an App that claimed to filter your Facebook friends to Red vs. Blue to determine what posts made it to a news feed. Let me tell you - I seriously considered signing up for it. And to be honest, I have unfriended or "unsubscribed" from friends solely because of their opposing political view. I'm not sorry I did it either.
In my 30 Day Music Challenge, I have been listening to older songs in my collection. I came across "Affirmation" by Savage Garden, which I have already written about here.
And I'm saddened that so many of the issues set forward in 2000 are still unresolved today. (But on a lighter note - I'm super glad that bleached hair look went out of style.)
The only thing I can hang on to, to get me through the trying times is positive affirmations ... like this song, inspiring quotes or the positive people around me. And I hope that one day we can work together create a better place where equality and peace are more important than agendas and greed.
Our interconnected always plugged in nature only emphasizes the issues, the arguments and sometimes, the hate. I have to hold my tongue (or fingers) when it comes to reacting to the opinions of the people around me.
Of course, around election time is nearly unbearable. At one point, I saw an App that claimed to filter your Facebook friends to Red vs. Blue to determine what posts made it to a news feed. Let me tell you - I seriously considered signing up for it. And to be honest, I have unfriended or "unsubscribed" from friends solely because of their opposing political view. I'm not sorry I did it either.
In my 30 Day Music Challenge, I have been listening to older songs in my collection. I came across "Affirmation" by Savage Garden, which I have already written about here.
And I'm saddened that so many of the issues set forward in 2000 are still unresolved today. (But on a lighter note - I'm super glad that bleached hair look went out of style.)
The only thing I can hang on to, to get me through the trying times is positive affirmations ... like this song, inspiring quotes or the positive people around me. And I hope that one day we can work together create a better place where equality and peace are more important than agendas and greed.
Monday, April 8, 2013
Take a chance and don't ever look back
The original 30 Day Song List Challenge lists Day 27 as a Song You Wish You Could Play, but of course for me, that's any song. I'm cheating again. I found a different list so here goes:
Day 27 (Amended): A Song that You Discovered After Everyone Else
So here's my dirty little secret: I don't listen to the radio. I can't remember when the last time I listened to music on the radio. When in the car I listen to ESPN Radio. At work I listen to Pandora or podcasts. At home I listen to Spotify, my music library or books on tape. I just get bored with Top 40 radio (and the constant repeating) too quickly. In other words, I have no idea what the top songs are right now. The only way I hear these songs is through popular culture: television, commercials, links from friends on social media.
I learn about most of the Top 40 songs way past when they are first aired or even after they've become hits. For the most part I don't think I'm missing out on anything. I do get into music ruts here and there, but that's not anything that the likes of Justin Bieber or Lady Gaga could fix anyway.
According to Wikipedia, Katy Perry released "Teenage Dream" August 2010. I listened to The Rescue's cover ... some time after that.
Day 27 (Amended): A Song that You Discovered After Everyone Else
So here's my dirty little secret: I don't listen to the radio. I can't remember when the last time I listened to music on the radio. When in the car I listen to ESPN Radio. At work I listen to Pandora or podcasts. At home I listen to Spotify, my music library or books on tape. I just get bored with Top 40 radio (and the constant repeating) too quickly. In other words, I have no idea what the top songs are right now. The only way I hear these songs is through popular culture: television, commercials, links from friends on social media.
I learn about most of the Top 40 songs way past when they are first aired or even after they've become hits. For the most part I don't think I'm missing out on anything. I do get into music ruts here and there, but that's not anything that the likes of Justin Bieber or Lady Gaga could fix anyway.
According to Wikipedia, Katy Perry released "Teenage Dream" August 2010. I listened to The Rescue's cover ... some time after that.
I heard this cover before I heard Katy Perry's version And I love this cover so much more than Katy Perry's. I have this thing when I listen to music, I like to pick out the harmonies and zone in on the individual instruments. Our local Ear Nose and Throat specialist told me it's because of my sonic hearing. This song is great for that, they have beautiful harmonies and unique sound. I dig the artsy black and white video, and every time I watch it, I notice something new.
I have never listened to The Rescues before this song, but after this single I tuned into their music. This winter I saw one of the members, AG, live - she's a very awesome solo artist as well.
Tune in for Day 28: A Song that Makes You Feel Guilty
Sunday, April 7, 2013
Eternity is so beautifully cold, I wonder if angels ever feel old
I'm going to cheat on Day 26 of the 30 Day Song Challenge. My original list called for a song that I can play. However, I am very musically inept I'm more interested in the flow of the words or the cover art than how to actually play the music. I even screwed up "Hot Cross Buns" on the recorder in grade school.
Originally when I had started this (eh-hem two years ago), I was able to find another list that had a different option for Day 26.
Amended Day 26 - A Great Song You Just Discovered
The song I keep coming back to in my collection that I most recently discovered is:
I saw this band about a month ago live. To tell the truth, I really didn't want to go to the concert. I was having a really busy week and just wanted a night at home. I had added their music and the music of the other musician who was performing to my playlist to see if they were any good. I thought they were like background music, I totally tuned out and really couldn't pick out anything I liked. (Turns out I don't think I actually listened to their music, I must have had it set to random).
Then the day before the show I read in a newspaper article that they were a punk group, so I decided to go. This was a nice change of pace. I found myself sort of melting into the songs, listening to the lyrics, enjoying picking out the individual instruments, especially since they were playing acoustically. The sound was a mix between The Killers, Panic at the Disco and Fall Out Boy. The lyrics are clever and fast-paced. I vaguely remember "Until the End" at the concert and it was okay, the lyric "until the end, there and back" reminds me of "The Hobbit" and "Lord of the Rings" (A Hobbit's Tale: There and Back Again).
I bought their Self-titled CD (even though I had just said I wasn't going to), and it has a lot of great songs, but I always have to skip to "Until the End" and listen to it at least twice whenever I listen to their music.
Next ... Day 27: A Song You Discovered After Everyone Else
Originally when I had started this (eh-hem two years ago), I was able to find another list that had a different option for Day 26.
Amended Day 26 - A Great Song You Just Discovered
The song I keep coming back to in my collection that I most recently discovered is:
Until the End, Quietdrive, Self-titled, 2010
I saw this band about a month ago live. To tell the truth, I really didn't want to go to the concert. I was having a really busy week and just wanted a night at home. I had added their music and the music of the other musician who was performing to my playlist to see if they were any good. I thought they were like background music, I totally tuned out and really couldn't pick out anything I liked. (Turns out I don't think I actually listened to their music, I must have had it set to random).
Then the day before the show I read in a newspaper article that they were a punk group, so I decided to go. This was a nice change of pace. I found myself sort of melting into the songs, listening to the lyrics, enjoying picking out the individual instruments, especially since they were playing acoustically. The sound was a mix between The Killers, Panic at the Disco and Fall Out Boy. The lyrics are clever and fast-paced. I vaguely remember "Until the End" at the concert and it was okay, the lyric "until the end, there and back" reminds me of "The Hobbit" and "Lord of the Rings" (A Hobbit's Tale: There and Back Again).
I bought their Self-titled CD (even though I had just said I wasn't going to), and it has a lot of great songs, but I always have to skip to "Until the End" and listen to it at least twice whenever I listen to their music.
Next ... Day 27: A Song You Discovered After Everyone Else
Saturday, April 6, 2013
Hear the voices in my head I swear to God it sounds like they're snoring
I was mulling around a couple of different options for Day 25: A Song that Makes You Laugh.
That's a pretty odd category for songs. Songs that make me laugh don't really make it into my favorite rotation. They are the weird songs that come around and are popular for two or three months but then you can't even remember them the next year. And if you do, you're embarrassed you enjoyed it as much as you did.
This song is a little more significant to me than those fad songs. Although, I would wager it was a fad song in it's time. It has a special place in my music library because it was one of the first punk songs that caught my ear. It has all the key elements of what makes a good song in my head: distinct beat that sticks with you, clever lyrics, not all one tone - it's fast and slow, loud and quiet (I hate songs that sound the same all the way through), it's a little bit naughty.
1998? I was a Freshman in high school, this may have been my first punk song, predating Blink 182.
This is another song I'd like to sing at the top of my lungs when all alone in the wee hours of the morning. I know I have it on a mixed cd somewhere in my collection.
Day 26: A Song You Can Play on an Instrument
Check out Day 25 or start from the beginning with Day 1.
That's a pretty odd category for songs. Songs that make me laugh don't really make it into my favorite rotation. They are the weird songs that come around and are popular for two or three months but then you can't even remember them the next year. And if you do, you're embarrassed you enjoyed it as much as you did.
This song is a little more significant to me than those fad songs. Although, I would wager it was a fad song in it's time. It has a special place in my music library because it was one of the first punk songs that caught my ear. It has all the key elements of what makes a good song in my head: distinct beat that sticks with you, clever lyrics, not all one tone - it's fast and slow, loud and quiet (I hate songs that sound the same all the way through), it's a little bit naughty.
1998? I was a Freshman in high school, this may have been my first punk song, predating Blink 182.
This is another song I'd like to sing at the top of my lungs when all alone in the wee hours of the morning. I know I have it on a mixed cd somewhere in my collection.
Day 26: A Song You Can Play on an Instrument
Check out Day 25 or start from the beginning with Day 1.
Friday, April 5, 2013
In fact, I am told that a lot
I had a hard week. A couple of reasons that are unavoidable ... weather, the calendar, etc., etc. I realized that I miss writing for fun. I don't write as much anymore because it's what I do (in part) for a living. My brain is so damn tired when I get home that the last thing I want to do is think (and things I don't want to do at night when I get home is a very long list!)
So, I thought I would pick up on the 30 day song challenge that I failed miserably at ... I stalled at Day 24 because life got in the way. I got a new job and my grandfather died ... but with nearly two years past, I think it's okay that I pick it back up for a "mindless" writing session.
With out further ado: 30 Day Song Challenge - Day 24: A Song that You Want Played at Your Funeral
The song I'm choosing for Day 24 is a sweet, yet melancholy song.
I don't know what it means that I had to wrack my brain for most of these songs, but I instantly knew the song I wanted played at my funeral.
This song is a lesson that it's the people around you that make a life special, not possessions accomplishments or money. Love, family and friends are the things that span all time and space.
Rockin the Suburbs (also a great song you should check out) was released on September 11, 2001. Wow, way to not be relevant. But I would contend it makes "The Luckiest" even more meaningful.
Catch up ... Day 23 is here or if you'd like to start from the beginning, try Day 1.
So, I thought I would pick up on the 30 day song challenge that I failed miserably at ... I stalled at Day 24 because life got in the way. I got a new job and my grandfather died ... but with nearly two years past, I think it's okay that I pick it back up for a "mindless" writing session.
With out further ado: 30 Day Song Challenge - Day 24: A Song that You Want Played at Your Funeral
The song I'm choosing for Day 24 is a sweet, yet melancholy song.
I don't know what it means that I had to wrack my brain for most of these songs, but I instantly knew the song I wanted played at my funeral.
The Luckiest, Ben Folds, Rockin the Suburbs, 2001
I go back and forth with this song ... sometimes it feels like a love song, other times it feels like one last gasp from a deathbed. I suppose, it can be both at the same time.
The rhythm is slow and contemplative The piano is lonely and hopeful. This song is a reflection on the good memories and missed opportunities that make up a life of moments that are meant to be.
The rhythm is slow and contemplative The piano is lonely and hopeful. This song is a reflection on the good memories and missed opportunities that make up a life of moments that are meant to be.
This song is a lesson that it's the people around you that make a life special, not possessions accomplishments or money. Love, family and friends are the things that span all time and space.
Rockin the Suburbs (also a great song you should check out) was released on September 11, 2001. Wow, way to not be relevant. But I would contend it makes "The Luckiest" even more meaningful.
Catch up ... Day 23 is here or if you'd like to start from the beginning, try Day 1.
Thursday, April 15, 2010
10 Movies, If I were you, I wouldn't see
March Madness means two things to me: there's nothing good on TV for a solid three weeks and I get to do a mega movie marathon. Typically I go to my DVD collection, but I wasn't in the mood for my old favorites this time around.
So off to the library to get some movies that had been on my list to watch.
In this year's Movie Madness I rediscovered the notion that with the fantastic flicks there must also come the really, really bad ones.
I'm not talking about low-budget special effects, corny 80's movies or random sci-fi musicals. The really bad movies have almost no redeeming qualities--and the ones they do have you're only telling yourself in order to justify the hours of your life you can't get back.
In the 12 or so movies I watched in these three weeks, there were a couple I watched twice, some that made me laugh, cry and scream. But one, made me fall asleep.
Ladies and Gents .... a sign it's a bad movie. The crap is emanating so thickly from the screen that your eyes cannot stand it and close.
This bad (bad, bad, bad) movie? Gerry.
Now, I must admit, the only reason I got it was because of Matt Damon. And after watching it, I feel the production company should be sued for false advertising. The paper/reporter who said it was "riveting & captivating story" and "the best film of the year" was either high or watching some other movie.
It's about two friends, Damon and Casey Affleck, out for an afternoon hike in Salt Lake Park. They wander from the trail and get lost. And here, let me spoil the ending for you so you don't have to go through the agony yourself.
Moments after Casey dies, Matt hears traffic and walks to the road. He flags down a car, hops in and leaves his friends body in the windy wasteland.
There are long periods of time where there's no talking. Most of the conversation is them telling each other stories (jokes). They call each other Gerry and frequently use it (Gerry) as a noun, verb, adverb and expletive.
Let me demonstrate: This Gerry movie was a Gerry-in' piece of Gerry. Not as funny when it isn't smurf, is it?
My first attempt, I fell asleep. I continued only to see if it got better--or if there was a big revelation that would make it make sense. Because, I was missing something, right? This Gerry movie can't be so Gerry, right?
The best part--and only mildly amusing part--was when Casey climbed a rock and couldn't get down. So Matt made a dirt mattress (i.e., a two inch pile of dirt and stones) for him to jump down into. The theory was that it would cushion Casey's fall and he wouldn't break an ankle.
It worked--but maybe if he would have busted an ankle it might have been more interesting.
At one point I started timing how long they would go without talking, but I got bored and gave up.
This disaster of a film got me thinking. What other movies made me feel like less of a person for watching them?
So, I compiled for you my Top 10 list of Horrible Movies. Special Thanks to Kriston and Jenni for their input and inspiration.
10. Sideways - Weak plot, not enough of Wine Country, even though it toted it was a movie about life in Wine Country. Vaguely amusing at times.
9. Remake of Planet of the Apes - Just not my kind of movie. Not interesting, and even though I knew the ending, I found it disappointing and dumb.
8. Pirates of the Caribbean: At World's End - What a way to ruin what was an awesome first film. Epic Fail Disney. Epic Fail.
7. Tie: Anchorman & Ace Ventura - Nearly anything by Will Farrell and Jim Carey's early work is crap. Both Kriston and Jenni said they felt they lost brain cells from watching these movies. I'd have to agree. Maybe I don't get the humor. But I'll pass.
6. Pearl Harbor - Boring and just taking advantage of the popularity of World War II movies. Very cliche.
5. Disney's Fantasia - Oddly frightening for a movie created for children. Boring too. My elementary school played this at a movie day. We LOVED movie days. We'd all go to the gym, watch it on the big screen have buttery popcorn and get out of class. At the break of this movie we begged not to go back.
4. Intolerable Cruelty - Another movie I watched all the way through in hopes it would get better. Kerry and I dragged the papasan chairs in our room and had drinks for a movie night. This was way better than the movie.
3. Gerry - Bad enough that it inspired me to write a post about the worst movies I've ever seen.
2. The Exorcist - I have a love-hate relationship with horror movies. I love the thrill and pure release. I hate that most of my childhood fears come from seeing the movies at too young of an age. (Let that be a lesson to you: no matter how cute it is that your little pumpkin isn't afraid of the movie, DON'T LET THEM WATCH IT. THEY WILL BE SCARRED FOR LIFE)
It's all hate for the Exorcist though. I literally had to will myself not to fall asleep during it. At the end I asked my mom what I missed because this classic supposedly set the standard for decades of horror films. I guess that's why there are so many bad horror films.
And, the worst movie I've ever seen .....
1. Monster's Ball. I wanted to see this movie for two reasons: huge buzz from the Oscars and Heath Ledger. I cannot pick out a redeeming factor from this movie. Plot holes. Poor acting in parts and disturbing story.
Now, I'm all for movies that tear down your world to expose a hard truth for a greater purpose. This was just gritty and dark to be dark and gritty.
Well there you go. 10 movies I would not recommend.
And to help you out a little more ... My tips for your viewing pleasure:
If it's bad, turn it off. It won't get better.
Watch different movies than your normal style. You'll find some gems. Plus you'll sound more intelligent when you tell your friends about the holy piece of Gerry that you wouldn't watch again if you were paid.
Finally, popcorn, papasans and/or booze can redeem the experience even if the actual movie makes you want to poke your eyes out.
So off to the library to get some movies that had been on my list to watch.
In this year's Movie Madness I rediscovered the notion that with the fantastic flicks there must also come the really, really bad ones.
I'm not talking about low-budget special effects, corny 80's movies or random sci-fi musicals. The really bad movies have almost no redeeming qualities--and the ones they do have you're only telling yourself in order to justify the hours of your life you can't get back.
In the 12 or so movies I watched in these three weeks, there were a couple I watched twice, some that made me laugh, cry and scream. But one, made me fall asleep.
Ladies and Gents .... a sign it's a bad movie. The crap is emanating so thickly from the screen that your eyes cannot stand it and close.
This bad (bad, bad, bad) movie? Gerry.
Now, I must admit, the only reason I got it was because of Matt Damon. And after watching it, I feel the production company should be sued for false advertising. The paper/reporter who said it was "riveting & captivating story" and "the best film of the year" was either high or watching some other movie.
It's about two friends, Damon and Casey Affleck, out for an afternoon hike in Salt Lake Park. They wander from the trail and get lost. And here, let me spoil the ending for you so you don't have to go through the agony yourself.
Moments after Casey dies, Matt hears traffic and walks to the road. He flags down a car, hops in and leaves his friends body in the windy wasteland.
There are long periods of time where there's no talking. Most of the conversation is them telling each other stories (jokes). They call each other Gerry and frequently use it (Gerry) as a noun, verb, adverb and expletive.
Let me demonstrate: This Gerry movie was a Gerry-in' piece of Gerry. Not as funny when it isn't smurf, is it?
My first attempt, I fell asleep. I continued only to see if it got better--or if there was a big revelation that would make it make sense. Because, I was missing something, right? This Gerry movie can't be so Gerry, right?
The best part--and only mildly amusing part--was when Casey climbed a rock and couldn't get down. So Matt made a dirt mattress (i.e., a two inch pile of dirt and stones) for him to jump down into. The theory was that it would cushion Casey's fall and he wouldn't break an ankle.
It worked--but maybe if he would have busted an ankle it might have been more interesting.
At one point I started timing how long they would go without talking, but I got bored and gave up.
This disaster of a film got me thinking. What other movies made me feel like less of a person for watching them?
So, I compiled for you my Top 10 list of Horrible Movies. Special Thanks to Kriston and Jenni for their input and inspiration.
10. Sideways - Weak plot, not enough of Wine Country, even though it toted it was a movie about life in Wine Country. Vaguely amusing at times.
9. Remake of Planet of the Apes - Just not my kind of movie. Not interesting, and even though I knew the ending, I found it disappointing and dumb.
8. Pirates of the Caribbean: At World's End - What a way to ruin what was an awesome first film. Epic Fail Disney. Epic Fail.
7. Tie: Anchorman & Ace Ventura - Nearly anything by Will Farrell and Jim Carey's early work is crap. Both Kriston and Jenni said they felt they lost brain cells from watching these movies. I'd have to agree. Maybe I don't get the humor. But I'll pass.
6. Pearl Harbor - Boring and just taking advantage of the popularity of World War II movies. Very cliche.
5. Disney's Fantasia - Oddly frightening for a movie created for children. Boring too. My elementary school played this at a movie day. We LOVED movie days. We'd all go to the gym, watch it on the big screen have buttery popcorn and get out of class. At the break of this movie we begged not to go back.
4. Intolerable Cruelty - Another movie I watched all the way through in hopes it would get better. Kerry and I dragged the papasan chairs in our room and had drinks for a movie night. This was way better than the movie.
3. Gerry - Bad enough that it inspired me to write a post about the worst movies I've ever seen.
2. The Exorcist - I have a love-hate relationship with horror movies. I love the thrill and pure release. I hate that most of my childhood fears come from seeing the movies at too young of an age. (Let that be a lesson to you: no matter how cute it is that your little pumpkin isn't afraid of the movie, DON'T LET THEM WATCH IT. THEY WILL BE SCARRED FOR LIFE)
It's all hate for the Exorcist though. I literally had to will myself not to fall asleep during it. At the end I asked my mom what I missed because this classic supposedly set the standard for decades of horror films. I guess that's why there are so many bad horror films.
And, the worst movie I've ever seen .....
1. Monster's Ball. I wanted to see this movie for two reasons: huge buzz from the Oscars and Heath Ledger. I cannot pick out a redeeming factor from this movie. Plot holes. Poor acting in parts and disturbing story.
Now, I'm all for movies that tear down your world to expose a hard truth for a greater purpose. This was just gritty and dark to be dark and gritty.
Well there you go. 10 movies I would not recommend.
And to help you out a little more ... My tips for your viewing pleasure:
If it's bad, turn it off. It won't get better.
Watch different movies than your normal style. You'll find some gems. Plus you'll sound more intelligent when you tell your friends about the holy piece of Gerry that you wouldn't watch again if you were paid.
Finally, popcorn, papasans and/or booze can redeem the experience even if the actual movie makes you want to poke your eyes out.
Monday, March 15, 2010
Don't judge a book by its first chapter?
All the Flowers are Dying by Lawrence Block surprised me. I checked out the audio book (most the books I "read" nowadays are audio books) and nearly took it back to the library after a shaky first chapter. I just had a dud of a book called the White Tiger and I thought my bad luck was continuing.
A man goes to prison to visit a convicted man on death row. The prisoner claims he is innocent and we learn he's telling the truth. Because the man who befriends him is the man who framed him.
The book is much too short. The plot is just exposed and it comes to a conclusion.
But what's there draws you in. The author shares with you several brutal murders and graphically exposes you to the serial killers mind. Every chapter you're wondering how his heinous deeds are going to collide with our hero.
The author lent his voice to the recording, which turned me off. It had little variation from character to character which was distracting. It took too much concentration to figure out which character was speaking/thinking.
Plus, it's hard to hear the villain and then the character you're supposed to cheer and relate to share the same voice.
In the end, I'm glad I stuck with this book. I'd certainly read more from this author.
A man goes to prison to visit a convicted man on death row. The prisoner claims he is innocent and we learn he's telling the truth. Because the man who befriends him is the man who framed him.
The book is much too short. The plot is just exposed and it comes to a conclusion.
But what's there draws you in. The author shares with you several brutal murders and graphically exposes you to the serial killers mind. Every chapter you're wondering how his heinous deeds are going to collide with our hero.
The author lent his voice to the recording, which turned me off. It had little variation from character to character which was distracting. It took too much concentration to figure out which character was speaking/thinking.
Plus, it's hard to hear the villain and then the character you're supposed to cheer and relate to share the same voice.
In the end, I'm glad I stuck with this book. I'd certainly read more from this author.
Monday, January 11, 2010
Desparately Seeking
Desparately seeking inspiration!!! I don't know where my little kernal has gone ... but I can't write an interesting (at least to me) entry to save my life! It all ends up blah, or how to or Zzzzzzz.
Oh inspiration ... where for out thou and how can I entice you to come back home?
Oh inspiration ... where for out thou and how can I entice you to come back home?
Monday, June 15, 2009
Five reasons why the dishes don't get done
I don't read as many books since my discovery of blogs and RSS feeds. I think college and 100+ pages due per class, per day destroyed the reading for enjoyment part of my brain too. But it's gone a step (or two, or a leap) beyond that ... I have to pay attention to my Internet time otherwise I could spend endless hours engrossed in all the wonders it holds.
I love finding little gems or discovering the ultra-trendy site that everyone else in various trendy circles knows about. To make this list, I narrowed it to blogs I read faithfully and those that update frequently (this knocked off Grey Matter--from the Writers of Grey's Anatomy, since they don't post when the show is in hiatus).
I am also only including the sites I've been reading for at least six months (which eliminated my new find from Dooce's Twitter feed: Favrd--and no, it's not about THAT quarterback.
So with no further ado, here is a brief list of my favorites.
Dooce.com -- a "Mommy" blog that's so much more. This blog chronicles the life of Heather B. Armstrong, wife and mother of two (as of Saturday). A former Mormon who got fired from her LA job in web design for writing about work on her blog. She and her new husband moved back to Utah even though their political views and drinking habits are polar opposites of their former faith. After having her first child, she committed herself to a mental hospital with a severe case of postpartum depression (as noted on her blog and new book).
I discovered this blog from a copy writing e-newsletter. It mentioned her blog along with about four or five other "Mommy Blogs." I don't know why I clicked this link, but what I read had me captivated.
The first post I read was about Halloween 2008 (I'd post a link, but there's a lot of lag on her web site right now b/c she just posted the announcement for their new daughter), I loved it instantly and went back to the beginning of the site, via archives and read from there. Six months later, I finally am up to date and on to reading her husband's site. He is more politically and geek oriented (said with love of course) and it's just as enjoyable to read Jon's point of view as things unfold in the Armstrong household.
PostSecret -- Published Sunday mornings, this site is a community art/social project where people send in post cards with their secrets. These post cards are elaborately designed homemade masterpieces, photographs or the typical tourist post card.
This site is interesting on many levels. Sometimes its the beauty of the cards and the amazing talent of their artists. Sometimes its the outrageous secrets--confessions of silly, fun or naughty little things people do. Like the person who puts your insurance claim at the bottom of the pile when he/she can't read your writing. THAT changed how much I pay attention to my penmanship.
The most striking aspect of this site is the heart-wrenching or devastating statements of abuse, rape, depression, addiction, and every so often, love. I've cried more than once reading these short, but meaningful secrets.
I found this site by a search after watching an episode of CSI:NY. It wasn't the same site featured on the show, but it had the same concept of sending secrets on homemade cards for the world to see but no one to know.
A site I found from PostSecret, Found is somewhat similar as it gives you a glimpse of a fraction of a stranger's life. This site displays found items people send in. It's amazing the things people find and where they find them: on the street, sidewalk, parking lot, benches, attics, books, elevators and on and on and on.
The found items are typically old and interesting photographs or odd notes, which are a hoot.
TXTS FRM LST NGHT -- I came across this site from Mark Hoppus' blog (which is another blog and/or Twitter feed you should hook into). The name is pretty self explanatory. Amusing texts from every day life that people then send to the site to be published. Not surprisingly, many of these texts are from intoxicated people. But if we can't be amused from their stupidity, what's the point??
Finally, I also frequently check $5 Dinners. This Mommy blogger writes about her tips and strategies to feed her family on five dollars a meal. I'm looking for ideas and tips moreso than actually reading this blog like I read Dooce. The creater of $5 Dinners outlines menu plans, has great, inexpensive and healthy recipe ideas and coupons. I don't often get to the coupons in time, but she has great variety in her recipes and I've used around five of her recipes and adapted many others.
I discovered this site from Blogs of Note, a list of interesting sites updated monthly from the staff of Blogger.
So those are my favs. Add movies and tv shows, music, the Dan Patrick Show and the occasional game you can understand why I have to be careful about my Internet time at home. But hot damn, with high speed there are so many possibilites!
What are your favorite sites/blogs? I'm always looking for a new addiction...err...something to read.
I love finding little gems or discovering the ultra-trendy site that everyone else in various trendy circles knows about. To make this list, I narrowed it to blogs I read faithfully and those that update frequently (this knocked off Grey Matter--from the Writers of Grey's Anatomy, since they don't post when the show is in hiatus).
I am also only including the sites I've been reading for at least six months (which eliminated my new find from Dooce's Twitter feed: Favrd--and no, it's not about THAT quarterback.
So with no further ado, here is a brief list of my favorites.
Dooce.com -- a "Mommy" blog that's so much more. This blog chronicles the life of Heather B. Armstrong, wife and mother of two (as of Saturday). A former Mormon who got fired from her LA job in web design for writing about work on her blog. She and her new husband moved back to Utah even though their political views and drinking habits are polar opposites of their former faith. After having her first child, she committed herself to a mental hospital with a severe case of postpartum depression (as noted on her blog and new book).
I discovered this blog from a copy writing e-newsletter. It mentioned her blog along with about four or five other "Mommy Blogs." I don't know why I clicked this link, but what I read had me captivated.
The first post I read was about Halloween 2008 (I'd post a link, but there's a lot of lag on her web site right now b/c she just posted the announcement for their new daughter), I loved it instantly and went back to the beginning of the site, via archives and read from there. Six months later, I finally am up to date and on to reading her husband's site. He is more politically and geek oriented (said with love of course) and it's just as enjoyable to read Jon's point of view as things unfold in the Armstrong household.
PostSecret -- Published Sunday mornings, this site is a community art/social project where people send in post cards with their secrets. These post cards are elaborately designed homemade masterpieces, photographs or the typical tourist post card.
This site is interesting on many levels. Sometimes its the beauty of the cards and the amazing talent of their artists. Sometimes its the outrageous secrets--confessions of silly, fun or naughty little things people do. Like the person who puts your insurance claim at the bottom of the pile when he/she can't read your writing. THAT changed how much I pay attention to my penmanship.
The most striking aspect of this site is the heart-wrenching or devastating statements of abuse, rape, depression, addiction, and every so often, love. I've cried more than once reading these short, but meaningful secrets.
I found this site by a search after watching an episode of CSI:NY. It wasn't the same site featured on the show, but it had the same concept of sending secrets on homemade cards for the world to see but no one to know.
A site I found from PostSecret, Found is somewhat similar as it gives you a glimpse of a fraction of a stranger's life. This site displays found items people send in. It's amazing the things people find and where they find them: on the street, sidewalk, parking lot, benches, attics, books, elevators and on and on and on.
The found items are typically old and interesting photographs or odd notes, which are a hoot.
TXTS FRM LST NGHT -- I came across this site from Mark Hoppus' blog (which is another blog and/or Twitter feed you should hook into). The name is pretty self explanatory. Amusing texts from every day life that people then send to the site to be published. Not surprisingly, many of these texts are from intoxicated people. But if we can't be amused from their stupidity, what's the point??
Finally, I also frequently check $5 Dinners. This Mommy blogger writes about her tips and strategies to feed her family on five dollars a meal. I'm looking for ideas and tips moreso than actually reading this blog like I read Dooce. The creater of $5 Dinners outlines menu plans, has great, inexpensive and healthy recipe ideas and coupons. I don't often get to the coupons in time, but she has great variety in her recipes and I've used around five of her recipes and adapted many others.
I discovered this site from Blogs of Note, a list of interesting sites updated monthly from the staff of Blogger.
So those are my favs. Add movies and tv shows, music, the Dan Patrick Show and the occasional game you can understand why I have to be careful about my Internet time at home. But hot damn, with high speed there are so many possibilites!
What are your favorite sites/blogs? I'm always looking for a new addiction...err...something to read.
Friday, June 5, 2009
This is it. It might all be gone tomorrow
This season of Grey's Anatomy is in the high form not seen since Prom Night of the Adulterous Sex, Denny's death and the night Snow Patrol was put on the map.
The magic is back.
The writing is quick and witty. Each main character is rich and complex with story lines given the perfect amount of attention.
And it all started again with Izzy and Denny.
I've always enjoyed Denny and his relationship with Izzy. It was the beautiful fairytale with a Shakespearean ending. It's iconic moment, Izzy in her fantastic pink prom dress laying on Denny's death bed, her forehead pressed into his neck.
A great majority of people will not be able to hear strains of Snow Patrol-Chasing Cars without picturing that moment.
But much has changed at Seattle Grace since. That night was quite a turning point for our Interns. That night things stopped being so simple. So black and white. They learned science cannot always save them and their choices have irreversible consequences. You can't go back.
That night Izzy lost her way. Her whole world changed, collapsed, and she really hadn't found her way back until this season. Specifically, the moment she realized she was alone.
And then came Denny.
Not a lot of people liked that Izzy could see, talk to and ... with Denny. I loved it. This interaction brought back Izzy as she used to be: playful, vibrant.
She lost her strength and compassion. She lost her essence. But Denny, our dearly departed Denny helped her find it again.
And it led her to the clinic and the Interns. In teaching them she found a balance between the rockstar doctor and the sensitive-sometimes-over-the-line doctor.
She did such a good job engaging the Interns to take learning seriously--where everyone else had failed. She also played a part in helping Alex heal after yet another train wreck (Ava), Christina find a heart, Meredith commit to an extravagant wedding (which helped her learn that all she really wanted/needed was a good marriage) and George the strength to stand on his own feet.
Izzy touched all the key players of Seattle Grace -- just like we affect everything around us, in so many ways we'll probably never know.
But, I think Izzy's purpose has been fulfilled and she should die. What is there left for her to do? Because I can't see her growing old with Alex, and I realize there's plenty of more guys for her to sleep with, but really, been there, done that. If you hadn't noticed, Izzy has been whoring around. From Denny's death bed to a bathroom floor to destroying George's marriage to Alex on the rebound.
There's more left for George ... than there is for Izzy.
I've said it before. Writers can do anything. And I guess we'll just have to wait and see what the next season brings.
The magic is back.
The writing is quick and witty. Each main character is rich and complex with story lines given the perfect amount of attention.
And it all started again with Izzy and Denny.
I've always enjoyed Denny and his relationship with Izzy. It was the beautiful fairytale with a Shakespearean ending. It's iconic moment, Izzy in her fantastic pink prom dress laying on Denny's death bed, her forehead pressed into his neck.
A great majority of people will not be able to hear strains of Snow Patrol-Chasing Cars without picturing that moment.
But much has changed at Seattle Grace since. That night was quite a turning point for our Interns. That night things stopped being so simple. So black and white. They learned science cannot always save them and their choices have irreversible consequences. You can't go back.
That night Izzy lost her way. Her whole world changed, collapsed, and she really hadn't found her way back until this season. Specifically, the moment she realized she was alone.
And then came Denny.
Not a lot of people liked that Izzy could see, talk to and ... with Denny. I loved it. This interaction brought back Izzy as she used to be: playful, vibrant.
She lost her strength and compassion. She lost her essence. But Denny, our dearly departed Denny helped her find it again.
And it led her to the clinic and the Interns. In teaching them she found a balance between the rockstar doctor and the sensitive-sometimes-over-the-line doctor.
She did such a good job engaging the Interns to take learning seriously--where everyone else had failed. She also played a part in helping Alex heal after yet another train wreck (Ava), Christina find a heart, Meredith commit to an extravagant wedding (which helped her learn that all she really wanted/needed was a good marriage) and George the strength to stand on his own feet.
Izzy touched all the key players of Seattle Grace -- just like we affect everything around us, in so many ways we'll probably never know.
But, I think Izzy's purpose has been fulfilled and she should die. What is there left for her to do? Because I can't see her growing old with Alex, and I realize there's plenty of more guys for her to sleep with, but really, been there, done that. If you hadn't noticed, Izzy has been whoring around. From Denny's death bed to a bathroom floor to destroying George's marriage to Alex on the rebound.
There's more left for George ... than there is for Izzy.
I've said it before. Writers can do anything. And I guess we'll just have to wait and see what the next season brings.
Thursday, March 12, 2009
Talented Mr.
I love when I'm in his presence. How his eyes light up with that sparkle when he sees me. A quick get over here motion with his fingers, unnoticed by anyone else around him. "Hey you" and a hug.
I love the compliments--I'm a rockstar and he means it. He makes me feel worthy, even on the lowest, ugliest day. He sees me, and knows when something is not right.
I'm a smart ass, but he'll forgive me and give it right back.
The sun shines down on me, as if I were the only person in the room. But that social butterfly, flits away and leaves me in dark, in the realization there are others here and I'll never get enough time with him.
I love the compliments--I'm a rockstar and he means it. He makes me feel worthy, even on the lowest, ugliest day. He sees me, and knows when something is not right.
I'm a smart ass, but he'll forgive me and give it right back.
The sun shines down on me, as if I were the only person in the room. But that social butterfly, flits away and leaves me in dark, in the realization there are others here and I'll never get enough time with him.
Sunday, February 22, 2009
Just don't let go or you may drown
William's chapter of That Dark and Winding Road. Click here to read again how we first met him.
There was nothing remarkable about the day. No emotional highs or lows. Just a day, like nearly every other day of the year.
William came home from work, threw his keys, his coat bag and empty dishes from lunch on the kitchen table. Half the contents of his bag clattered to the floor. Any other day William might have left them there until the next time he sat at the table. This time he bent over to pick them up and *BANG* his head connected with the table top.
He bit his tongue, and the taste of blood trickled into his mouth. William shut his eyes and watched the gold and blue lights dance. "Shit," he thought. William stood, to blinding pain in his head. "Gotta love those instant headaches," he muttered.
He figured nothing helps skull searing pain but hot water, so William turned on the shower and let the room fill with steam. He stepped in and let the water run down his back. William could never feel how tense his muscles were until the hot water began to sooth the ache.
Leaning one arm against the wall his head fell nearly to his chest. Then the tears came. He only cried in the shower. The running water mixed with his tears and ran down his cheeks. Here the red flush of his cheeks could be from the water or out pour of emotion, but no one was there to know. The spraying water and noise of the fans even masked the occasional audible sob.
His knees buckled under him and William found himslef on the floor of the shower. Still crying. He laughed between his tears, marveling at the utterly unmanly situation he put himself in. If the world could see him now.
Not that the world ever saw him anyway. Just a few days ago he went to the party. Filled with people he wanted to be. He tried the art of positive thinking, to picture what he wanted.
He had a fantastic life in his head. But his personality always wrecked it from coming through to others though. And there's a fine line between positive mental pictures and delusions. He didn't need to add crazy to his loser label.
That label was slapped across his chest like a name tag at the party. Hello, My Name is William, the Loser, blaring like a siren he knew everyone could hear.
Of course, most of them put up a polite front, not openly mocking him to his face. A small blessing, he supposed. But he could see the pity in their eyes. It made his neck burn with embarassment.
He tried his best to live up to the persona in his head at the party. He put on that mask--tried to smile and make small talk. God how he hated the fucking small talk. He yearned for a conversation. Something that wasn't that nauseating exchange of pleasantries.
But when you say, "I've had a really shitty day, the weather is horrible and I could give two fucks about the state of politics in Uganda as reported by the New York Times." If you say that, along with LOSER, they smack the WEIRDO tag on your back. Right next to socially inept.
He snickered at that sorry sight in his head. The ladies to his right looked at him and moved a little further away. His shoulders sunk. Exactly. He pushed his way towards the bathroom to splash water on his face and regain some composure. Or at least have a moment of peace.
Except that the door to the hallway was blocked by Matt and a gaggle of his adoring followers. He tried not to listen as Matt recounted a hilarous story about his exciting job and how colly he leads his life. Instead, William watched. The way Matt used his hands to emphasize the highlights of his story. So crisp, each beat dead on, the perfect punctuation to each point.
Then Matt pointed, at William? The group laughed. William turned away and placed his hands on a table below an ornate mirror. Trying not to hyperventalate, he focused on breathing deeply. He looked up with no acknowledgement of his own reflection, and surveyed the room. From this position he let his heavy mask slip.
The pain pooled around his mouth, pursing his lips. Defeat shown in his eyes, but William refused to face it, to actually acknowledge it there. Instead, he continued to look past himself, observing others without being a part of the group.
That sense of isolation jolted him back to the present, sitting in his shower. He turned off the water, then leaned back to pull himself up to stand, and his hand grazed his razor. With pain, fear and humiliation crushing William, he wrapped his fingers around it.
He brought it to his wrist, tracing a line down his arm. He leaned forward and looked at the faint red scratch. More pressure ...
There was nothing remarkable about the day. No emotional highs or lows. Just a day, like nearly every other day of the year.
William came home from work, threw his keys, his coat bag and empty dishes from lunch on the kitchen table. Half the contents of his bag clattered to the floor. Any other day William might have left them there until the next time he sat at the table. This time he bent over to pick them up and *BANG* his head connected with the table top.
He bit his tongue, and the taste of blood trickled into his mouth. William shut his eyes and watched the gold and blue lights dance. "Shit," he thought. William stood, to blinding pain in his head. "Gotta love those instant headaches," he muttered.
He figured nothing helps skull searing pain but hot water, so William turned on the shower and let the room fill with steam. He stepped in and let the water run down his back. William could never feel how tense his muscles were until the hot water began to sooth the ache.
Leaning one arm against the wall his head fell nearly to his chest. Then the tears came. He only cried in the shower. The running water mixed with his tears and ran down his cheeks. Here the red flush of his cheeks could be from the water or out pour of emotion, but no one was there to know. The spraying water and noise of the fans even masked the occasional audible sob.
His knees buckled under him and William found himslef on the floor of the shower. Still crying. He laughed between his tears, marveling at the utterly unmanly situation he put himself in. If the world could see him now.
Not that the world ever saw him anyway. Just a few days ago he went to the party. Filled with people he wanted to be. He tried the art of positive thinking, to picture what he wanted.
He had a fantastic life in his head. But his personality always wrecked it from coming through to others though. And there's a fine line between positive mental pictures and delusions. He didn't need to add crazy to his loser label.
That label was slapped across his chest like a name tag at the party. Hello, My Name is William, the Loser, blaring like a siren he knew everyone could hear.
Of course, most of them put up a polite front, not openly mocking him to his face. A small blessing, he supposed. But he could see the pity in their eyes. It made his neck burn with embarassment.
He tried his best to live up to the persona in his head at the party. He put on that mask--tried to smile and make small talk. God how he hated the fucking small talk. He yearned for a conversation. Something that wasn't that nauseating exchange of pleasantries.
But when you say, "I've had a really shitty day, the weather is horrible and I could give two fucks about the state of politics in Uganda as reported by the New York Times." If you say that, along with LOSER, they smack the WEIRDO tag on your back. Right next to socially inept.
He snickered at that sorry sight in his head. The ladies to his right looked at him and moved a little further away. His shoulders sunk. Exactly. He pushed his way towards the bathroom to splash water on his face and regain some composure. Or at least have a moment of peace.
Except that the door to the hallway was blocked by Matt and a gaggle of his adoring followers. He tried not to listen as Matt recounted a hilarous story about his exciting job and how colly he leads his life. Instead, William watched. The way Matt used his hands to emphasize the highlights of his story. So crisp, each beat dead on, the perfect punctuation to each point.
Then Matt pointed, at William? The group laughed. William turned away and placed his hands on a table below an ornate mirror. Trying not to hyperventalate, he focused on breathing deeply. He looked up with no acknowledgement of his own reflection, and surveyed the room. From this position he let his heavy mask slip.
The pain pooled around his mouth, pursing his lips. Defeat shown in his eyes, but William refused to face it, to actually acknowledge it there. Instead, he continued to look past himself, observing others without being a part of the group.
That sense of isolation jolted him back to the present, sitting in his shower. He turned off the water, then leaned back to pull himself up to stand, and his hand grazed his razor. With pain, fear and humiliation crushing William, he wrapped his fingers around it.
He brought it to his wrist, tracing a line down his arm. He leaned forward and looked at the faint red scratch. More pressure ...
Monday, January 19, 2009
Shave a couple years off my life ...
The universe gave us a little reminder on Friday not to take what we have forgranted.
My Dad went in for a knee replacement. Nothing urgent, in fact the doctors and nurses teased him he was there by his own free will and was, indeed, asking for it. Knee surgery ... in our world, the world of kidney transplants, three hip replacements, infections, hospital stays running weeks to months and calls in the middle of the day announcing cardiac arrest ... in that world, knee surgery is pretty mild.
So my family very calmly and almost nonchalantly prepared for the surgery. Mom and I took off work to be with Dad on the day of the surgery. They picked me up and we went to the hospital. We checked in and soon they took Dad to be prepped. We got to see him and sat and chatted waiting for the doctor to give the final go ahead by ceremonious marking of the body part to be cut on.
He arrived and looked at Dad's leg. As he was feeling the knee, he stopped and looked at Dad. "What's this lump?" he asked. Dad said it was nothing, a bump from something that happened during the summer, it appeared and never went away. But never got any bigger either.
His doctor shook his head with a frown. "It feels like a tumor," he said. He went on to explain that in addition to elective knee surgeries, he removed cancerous tumors ... tumors that were often discovered when people came in for different procedures or scheduled check ups. "Most of the time bumps bring the tumors out to the surface. Do you know how stupid it would be for me to cut on your knee with a tumor there?"
I think the bottom of all our stomachs dropped out from under us. I had to sit down. Dad put his arm over his eyes. Tumor. Cancer.
"What can we do so I can get his surgery today?" my dad asked.
His doctor explained a MRI would show if it was a tumor or something else like a fat pocket or fluid, etc. "But there's little chance they'll be able to fit you in today," he said.
"So do the surgery and we'll deal with the lump later," my dad decided.
His doctor shook his head. "If I did a biopsy when I was in there today, we still wouldn't know for sure. Because I could only take part of it and miss more behind or beneath it."
He took out his marker and drew a circle on the bed sheet, coloring one section of the circle. The part that changes a person's life.
"Let me make a call," he said. With that he disappeared down the hall.
The nurse hovered at the door ... "Are you okay?" she asked in a whisper. I can't remember if anyone answered.
We could hear his doctor, who I found out is a neighbor of my parents, give orders to nurses around him.
He came back in. "Dr. So-and-So is a friend and is able to squeeze you in. The transport team should get you over now. Then we'll see what'll happen next."
So they cart my dad away. A nurse explains we where we can wait and it'll take 45 minutes to an hour to find out.
We run an errand then sit in the waiting room. Stare at the floor. Look at magazines. Watch the clock. I wipe at tears that keep creeping up to my eyes. Finally they call our name.
We do our best not to run to the prep room. And there, they are prepping. We look to the nearest nurse. Surgery? What did the MRI indicate? "It was just fluid from where he hit his leg. The OR was held for him. We're getting ready to take him back."
Well. That's an hour or so that reduced my life span.
Our hearts and stomachs settle back to their respective places and we take a deep breath. Talking and joking like we were before, this time with renewed perspective for the good things in life. The nurse who hovered previously walked past and said "I see smiles, it must have been good news." I also hear that sentiment and others like "Fluid from a bump" and "Not cancerous" travel down the hallway to the various staff connected to the surgery.
A nurse steps behind the bed and prepares to push it away, said, "Now's the time for hugs and kisses." Dad looks at us and gives a quick wave. "Later."
We go back to the waiting room, almost giddy, so relieved and ready for the wait ahead, because the hard part was over.
Of course that wait was another five or six hours. Nothing like spending 12 hours of one day at the hospital.
Plus another 16 over the next two days ...
I'm so, so tired. I forgot just how much it takes out of you. So emotionally drained and overwhelmed at the same time.
My Dad went in for a knee replacement. Nothing urgent, in fact the doctors and nurses teased him he was there by his own free will and was, indeed, asking for it. Knee surgery ... in our world, the world of kidney transplants, three hip replacements, infections, hospital stays running weeks to months and calls in the middle of the day announcing cardiac arrest ... in that world, knee surgery is pretty mild.
So my family very calmly and almost nonchalantly prepared for the surgery. Mom and I took off work to be with Dad on the day of the surgery. They picked me up and we went to the hospital. We checked in and soon they took Dad to be prepped. We got to see him and sat and chatted waiting for the doctor to give the final go ahead by ceremonious marking of the body part to be cut on.
He arrived and looked at Dad's leg. As he was feeling the knee, he stopped and looked at Dad. "What's this lump?" he asked. Dad said it was nothing, a bump from something that happened during the summer, it appeared and never went away. But never got any bigger either.
His doctor shook his head with a frown. "It feels like a tumor," he said. He went on to explain that in addition to elective knee surgeries, he removed cancerous tumors ... tumors that were often discovered when people came in for different procedures or scheduled check ups. "Most of the time bumps bring the tumors out to the surface. Do you know how stupid it would be for me to cut on your knee with a tumor there?"
I think the bottom of all our stomachs dropped out from under us. I had to sit down. Dad put his arm over his eyes. Tumor. Cancer.
"What can we do so I can get his surgery today?" my dad asked.
His doctor explained a MRI would show if it was a tumor or something else like a fat pocket or fluid, etc. "But there's little chance they'll be able to fit you in today," he said.
"So do the surgery and we'll deal with the lump later," my dad decided.
His doctor shook his head. "If I did a biopsy when I was in there today, we still wouldn't know for sure. Because I could only take part of it and miss more behind or beneath it."
He took out his marker and drew a circle on the bed sheet, coloring one section of the circle. The part that changes a person's life.
"Let me make a call," he said. With that he disappeared down the hall.
The nurse hovered at the door ... "Are you okay?" she asked in a whisper. I can't remember if anyone answered.
We could hear his doctor, who I found out is a neighbor of my parents, give orders to nurses around him.
He came back in. "Dr. So-and-So is a friend and is able to squeeze you in. The transport team should get you over now. Then we'll see what'll happen next."
So they cart my dad away. A nurse explains we where we can wait and it'll take 45 minutes to an hour to find out.
We run an errand then sit in the waiting room. Stare at the floor. Look at magazines. Watch the clock. I wipe at tears that keep creeping up to my eyes. Finally they call our name.
We do our best not to run to the prep room. And there, they are prepping. We look to the nearest nurse. Surgery? What did the MRI indicate? "It was just fluid from where he hit his leg. The OR was held for him. We're getting ready to take him back."
Well. That's an hour or so that reduced my life span.
Our hearts and stomachs settle back to their respective places and we take a deep breath. Talking and joking like we were before, this time with renewed perspective for the good things in life. The nurse who hovered previously walked past and said "I see smiles, it must have been good news." I also hear that sentiment and others like "Fluid from a bump" and "Not cancerous" travel down the hallway to the various staff connected to the surgery.
A nurse steps behind the bed and prepares to push it away, said, "Now's the time for hugs and kisses." Dad looks at us and gives a quick wave. "Later."
We go back to the waiting room, almost giddy, so relieved and ready for the wait ahead, because the hard part was over.
Of course that wait was another five or six hours. Nothing like spending 12 hours of one day at the hospital.
Plus another 16 over the next two days ...
I'm so, so tired. I forgot just how much it takes out of you. So emotionally drained and overwhelmed at the same time.
Sunday, December 28, 2008
Now that 2008 is out of the way ...
First, I must preface that this post has a lot of passion behind it. It's the fanstastic part of football, that release of emotion, great highs and stunning lows. However, I am going to do my best to separate as much emotion from this as I can.
Unbiasness I cannot guarantee, but this is my blog. So I can write what I want, as skewed as it may be.
Now you might suggest this would have a different tune if Brett Favre (please note, henceforth referred to as The Former) and the J-E-T-S were playoff bound. Not at all. My points would be the same, but I wouldn't be able to say I TOLD YOU SO! You may have a better record, but your stats pale compared to Aaron Rodgers.
Okay, now I have all my prologue points out of the way.
The 2007 off season The Former proved me wrong about this and that. Hey, no hard feelings. Actually, I have no problem that The Former changed his mind. There have been many Packer greats (that have left the team either through retirement or free agency) to go on to play or coach for other organizations. Robert Brooks, Antonio Freeman, Ahman Green, Ryan Longwell, Craig Hendrich, Reggie White, Travis Jervey ... oh yeah, and Vince Lombardi ... just to name a few.
Okay, so TJ isn't apples to apples. But Reggie is a Legend. Robert and Free were the best wide receivers of the Super Bowl teams. And Ryan and Craig are in the top tier of players at their position.
So, as my mom said, "Why didn't you disown TJ like you are [The Former]?"
It's not because he un-retired. It's how he did it.
First we must remember the six year debate. Every December, could this be his last game? Every off season, playing with the media. And in recent years, waiting until just before the draft to make the come-back decision.
Finally the other cleat dropped. March 4, 2008. Then his tearful goodbye. If nothing else, I've just expended way too much emotion on him, that I just have no more warm and fuzzies for him left in me.
Shortly after the 2008 draft, rumors start floating around that he wanted to come back. Here's when it starts turning sour. He denies some and is ambiguous with others. Then he announces he never wanted to retire and the Packers forced him out.
Packers tell him in no uncertain terms that he cannot just come back and be the starting quarterback. It's now July and the team has moved on. August: Family Night comes and he returns to Green Bay with his wife and watches the scrimmage from a sky box.
And he's all like "What? I'm [The Former] I'll come and be your QB, because, do you know who I am? Awe shucks, I'm a good ole' country boy wearing wrangers." (okay...the unbiased field lapsed there, all systems restored)
This is the epitome of the true void of class he showed during the situation. Instead of keeping it in-house, he made a spectacle. The team paid him obscene amounts of money and love during his career. And he showed the organization, players and fans no respect.
He went to the playground and started slinging mud.
I get that he still has that passion and abitlity to play. Either don't retire or work with the Packers for a trade. If they play hardball take it to the Players Association or the Commish himself. Don't whine to the media you childish asshole.
That's right, I said it.
I always revered The Former for his child-like passion for the game. But off the field matters are business. This is not a family--which is what we all forgot.
I have lost respect for him as a person and professional. I have a hard time respecting people who preach and live by one set of standards but then abandon these "values" and "character" when the chips are down. It reveals a very different person... like the situations with Desmond Howard, Mike Holmgren and Dorsey Levens. All disowned in my eyes. But with time the disdain has decreased and I know it'll be the same with The Former.
I never would have admited it while he was here, but the distance allowed me to see what everyone was saying: The Former held the Packers hostage. That is, until Ted Thompson had the balls to say you're done. We've moved on. To a younger, shinier, hotter model.
And boy did that piss The Former off.
I wish I could attribute this thought. It was either Dan Patrick or Mike Turico. When the Packers said (hell) no, we don't want you back, The Former came back to prove the Packers needed him more than he needed the Packers. Well you may have a better record, but we're both watching Wild Card Weekend at Home. (and may I point out the new shiny model's stats again?)
I've always acknowledged The Former's faults (and I love pointing them out more now Mr. Leads the League in Interceptions). I accepted them because it was a part of the package: the anguish, the excitement. What I was going to miss the most was that special spark on the field. But hot damn, the kid has it too! Packer fans we're in good hands.
To The Former: Good luck and thank you. But go away.
To all you so-called-Packer fans buying jerseys and the god-damned television stations being the "official" station of an AFC TEAM in the fucking NFC NORTH ....
I respect you even less than I do The Former.
Unbiasness I cannot guarantee, but this is my blog. So I can write what I want, as skewed as it may be.
Now you might suggest this would have a different tune if Brett Favre (please note, henceforth referred to as The Former) and the J-E-T-S were playoff bound. Not at all. My points would be the same, but I wouldn't be able to say I TOLD YOU SO! You may have a better record, but your stats pale compared to Aaron Rodgers.
Okay, now I have all my prologue points out of the way.
The 2007 off season The Former proved me wrong about this and that. Hey, no hard feelings. Actually, I have no problem that The Former changed his mind. There have been many Packer greats (that have left the team either through retirement or free agency) to go on to play or coach for other organizations. Robert Brooks, Antonio Freeman, Ahman Green, Ryan Longwell, Craig Hendrich, Reggie White, Travis Jervey ... oh yeah, and Vince Lombardi ... just to name a few.
Okay, so TJ isn't apples to apples. But Reggie is a Legend. Robert and Free were the best wide receivers of the Super Bowl teams. And Ryan and Craig are in the top tier of players at their position.
So, as my mom said, "Why didn't you disown TJ like you are [The Former]?"
It's not because he un-retired. It's how he did it.
First we must remember the six year debate. Every December, could this be his last game? Every off season, playing with the media. And in recent years, waiting until just before the draft to make the come-back decision.
Finally the other cleat dropped. March 4, 2008. Then his tearful goodbye. If nothing else, I've just expended way too much emotion on him, that I just have no more warm and fuzzies for him left in me.
Shortly after the 2008 draft, rumors start floating around that he wanted to come back. Here's when it starts turning sour. He denies some and is ambiguous with others. Then he announces he never wanted to retire and the Packers forced him out.
Packers tell him in no uncertain terms that he cannot just come back and be the starting quarterback. It's now July and the team has moved on. August: Family Night comes and he returns to Green Bay with his wife and watches the scrimmage from a sky box.
And he's all like "What? I'm [The Former] I'll come and be your QB, because, do you know who I am? Awe shucks, I'm a good ole' country boy wearing wrangers." (okay...the unbiased field lapsed there, all systems restored)
This is the epitome of the true void of class he showed during the situation. Instead of keeping it in-house, he made a spectacle. The team paid him obscene amounts of money and love during his career. And he showed the organization, players and fans no respect.
He went to the playground and started slinging mud.
I get that he still has that passion and abitlity to play. Either don't retire or work with the Packers for a trade. If they play hardball take it to the Players Association or the Commish himself. Don't whine to the media you childish asshole.
That's right, I said it.
I always revered The Former for his child-like passion for the game. But off the field matters are business. This is not a family--which is what we all forgot.
I have lost respect for him as a person and professional. I have a hard time respecting people who preach and live by one set of standards but then abandon these "values" and "character" when the chips are down. It reveals a very different person... like the situations with Desmond Howard, Mike Holmgren and Dorsey Levens. All disowned in my eyes. But with time the disdain has decreased and I know it'll be the same with The Former.
I never would have admited it while he was here, but the distance allowed me to see what everyone was saying: The Former held the Packers hostage. That is, until Ted Thompson had the balls to say you're done. We've moved on. To a younger, shinier, hotter model.
And boy did that piss The Former off.
I wish I could attribute this thought. It was either Dan Patrick or Mike Turico. When the Packers said (hell) no, we don't want you back, The Former came back to prove the Packers needed him more than he needed the Packers. Well you may have a better record, but we're both watching Wild Card Weekend at Home. (and may I point out the new shiny model's stats again?)
I've always acknowledged The Former's faults (and I love pointing them out more now Mr. Leads the League in Interceptions). I accepted them because it was a part of the package: the anguish, the excitement. What I was going to miss the most was that special spark on the field. But hot damn, the kid has it too! Packer fans we're in good hands.
To The Former: Good luck and thank you. But go away.
To all you so-called-Packer fans buying jerseys and the god-damned television stations being the "official" station of an AFC TEAM in the fucking NFC NORTH ....
I respect you even less than I do The Former.
Monday, December 15, 2008
Can I just stay in bed?
We were hit with a dose of Wisconsin weather. Saturday and most of Sunday it almost felt balmy. It was so warm that our snow started melting and it rained on Sunday. Rain! In December!
Of course, Mother Nature being the cruel lady she is, today temps were negative with a -30 degree windchill. -30. All was well in my cozy little house. My mom had to make a point in inquiring how low I had my furance set. After threats of frozen pipes and horrific damage that would leave me curled up in a ball rocking and sobbing to myself in the corner--so I turned up the temp.
But she planted the seed. And I woke up every hour.
First random noises woke me. What was that? Is that the sound of a frozen pipe? If I open my eyes will I see the Gremlins of Burst Pipes running around wreaking havoc? Will the bathroom and kitchen be flooded? Or would it be frozen over, my own indoor skating rink?
If it wasn't Bursting Pipe radar waking me up, it was the furance kicking on. Or NOT kicking on ... oh the humanity is it so cold the furance is dead and I've lost the heating battle?
All this lost sleep kept me in bed trying to steal a few winks after my alarm went off. So I trudge out at the last possible second to dress, eat breakfast, make lunch and start my car.
I got to the last task at 7:45 (only five minutes behind schedule). So I walk out all bundled up, braving the -30 degree wind chills and push the button on my garage door opener. And ... nothing. Okay, bad angle ... nadda. I'm inside the garage now so I try the button on the wall. It starts. It stops. Hmmm. Starts and ... nothing. Ah man, the door is frozen to the cement.
I salt it, chip at it, and kick it with no luck. A little sunshine and some salt action later (and by later I mean the end of the day) my door is opening and closing like nobody's business.
Of course, Mother Nature being the cruel lady she is, today temps were negative with a -30 degree windchill. -30. All was well in my cozy little house. My mom had to make a point in inquiring how low I had my furance set. After threats of frozen pipes and horrific damage that would leave me curled up in a ball rocking and sobbing to myself in the corner--so I turned up the temp.
But she planted the seed. And I woke up every hour.
First random noises woke me. What was that? Is that the sound of a frozen pipe? If I open my eyes will I see the Gremlins of Burst Pipes running around wreaking havoc? Will the bathroom and kitchen be flooded? Or would it be frozen over, my own indoor skating rink?
If it wasn't Bursting Pipe radar waking me up, it was the furance kicking on. Or NOT kicking on ... oh the humanity is it so cold the furance is dead and I've lost the heating battle?
All this lost sleep kept me in bed trying to steal a few winks after my alarm went off. So I trudge out at the last possible second to dress, eat breakfast, make lunch and start my car.
I got to the last task at 7:45 (only five minutes behind schedule). So I walk out all bundled up, braving the -30 degree wind chills and push the button on my garage door opener. And ... nothing. Okay, bad angle ... nadda. I'm inside the garage now so I try the button on the wall. It starts. It stops. Hmmm. Starts and ... nothing. Ah man, the door is frozen to the cement.
I salt it, chip at it, and kick it with no luck. A little sunshine and some salt action later (and by later I mean the end of the day) my door is opening and closing like nobody's business.
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
1, 2 … Freddy’s coming for you
I walked forward. One hand held my coffee cup filled with steaming tea, so only one hand was extended. Reaching. Feeling.
Nothing.
Shapes begin to emerge. Outlines. This isn’t so bad. Hope surges through me. There is strength for the future if I can find my way in this darkness.
Contact.
A doorway? Is my destination just before me?
Movement.
I concentrate, trying to heighten those other senses. My arm and shoulder brush against something that brushes back.
Oh god.
My stomach turns.
Like the Cowardly Lion in Elphaba’s magic globe: I do believe in spooks. I do believe in spooks. I do. I do. I do.
My heart rate doubles then stops.
In defeat I reach, praying to connect with a light switch, defeated for not yet knowing those intricacies, nooks and crannies.
Light bounces off my surroundings.
My bumps in the night were doors and I was only steps away from the security of my bed.
Victory was close, but maybe another night.
Nothing.
Shapes begin to emerge. Outlines. This isn’t so bad. Hope surges through me. There is strength for the future if I can find my way in this darkness.
Contact.
A doorway? Is my destination just before me?
Movement.
I concentrate, trying to heighten those other senses. My arm and shoulder brush against something that brushes back.
Oh god.
My stomach turns.
Like the Cowardly Lion in Elphaba’s magic globe: I do believe in spooks. I do believe in spooks. I do. I do. I do.
My heart rate doubles then stops.
In defeat I reach, praying to connect with a light switch, defeated for not yet knowing those intricacies, nooks and crannies.
Light bounces off my surroundings.
My bumps in the night were doors and I was only steps away from the security of my bed.
Victory was close, but maybe another night.
Monday, September 8, 2008
Relativity
Not limited to Einstein, space and time.
Because how can friends grow apart when it was foundation that brought them together in the first place?
How can you think I have money when I carefully live within my means?
You think frugal—and I think cheap.
That true maverick says change and means more profits for that upper one percent. While the candidate working for a better America says change and means a better life for people who know the meaning of working for a dime.
Because how can friends grow apart when it was foundation that brought them together in the first place?
How can you think I have money when I carefully live within my means?
You think frugal—and I think cheap.
That true maverick says change and means more profits for that upper one percent. While the candidate working for a better America says change and means a better life for people who know the meaning of working for a dime.
Tuesday, July 29, 2008
Letters to Live By ~ The Inevitable
Dear Friend,
You’ll never believe the amazing advice I received today. It was around 3 p.m. and I was hitting a huge lull at work—you know, the kind brought on by lunch burning off and frustration mounting from an hour’s work disappearing.
I took a moment and a deep breath and the universe gave me a pick me up. The sage piece of wisdom was “Age is nothing but a number.” And it came from the best counsel: the wrapper of a Dove Dark Chocolate
I’ve been having issues with my quarter century. Never before has my years tallied on Earth been a focus or care. But dawning of the 25th year hit me like a bag of bricks.
Life has been psyching me out. Bills. Insurance. Retirement Plans. Home Ownership. Ack.
The problem with the real world is not the work or job. It’s all of these pressures mounting up. And the fear that one wrong move will sink the ship.
Because what Brett Favre has taught us is some decisions should be final and we don’t (normally) get the luxury of take backs.
Don’t get me wrong, my lovely Friend, the real world and all its pleasures of taxes, work pressures and unretirements aren’t fun.
It’s just like everything else though. Take one thing at a time and if you believe and are positive, the universe will provide for you (if nothing else, it gives you wisdom through chocolate to help you get through the moment).
The greatest challenge, my Friend, is to remember to have Patience!
You’ll never believe the amazing advice I received today. It was around 3 p.m. and I was hitting a huge lull at work—you know, the kind brought on by lunch burning off and frustration mounting from an hour’s work disappearing.
I took a moment and a deep breath and the universe gave me a pick me up. The sage piece of wisdom was “Age is nothing but a number.” And it came from the best counsel: the wrapper of a Dove Dark Chocolate
I’ve been having issues with my quarter century. Never before has my years tallied on Earth been a focus or care. But dawning of the 25th year hit me like a bag of bricks.
Life has been psyching me out. Bills. Insurance. Retirement Plans. Home Ownership. Ack.
The problem with the real world is not the work or job. It’s all of these pressures mounting up. And the fear that one wrong move will sink the ship.
Because what Brett Favre has taught us is some decisions should be final and we don’t (normally) get the luxury of take backs.
Don’t get me wrong, my lovely Friend, the real world and all its pleasures of taxes, work pressures and unretirements aren’t fun.
It’s just like everything else though. Take one thing at a time and if you believe and are positive, the universe will provide for you (if nothing else, it gives you wisdom through chocolate to help you get through the moment).
The greatest challenge, my Friend, is to remember to have Patience!
Friday, July 25, 2008
Letters to Live By ~ Passion
Oh dear Friend,
I miss your voice, your laugh. I remember all the good times we shared. Our silly inside jokes that mean nothing to everyone else.
I’ve felt deep passions since we last spoke—good and bad. I’ve been hurt severely, but also loved intensely. It’s funny, for me these both sides of this spectrum stir deep down in the same place—the pit of my stomach. That painful hurt makes my stomach drop or tie in knots and love makes it well up with butterflies. Oh, what an experience!
And I’m not sure if you can really recover from either—love or hurt. Because I can revisit it years later and feel fine, but something triggers it again and all those powerful feelings bubble up.
Johnny Rzeznik of the Goo Goo Dolls says that “scars are souvenirs we’ll never lose, the past is never far.” I agree, but I’ll add wrinkles are earned, a past smile we should never forget.
See, the GGD and Johnny still hold in a place in my heart. As does Travis Jervey, purple, Van Gogh, duckies and llamas. Some things never change. And thank you my friend for accepting my obsessions (there I said it!) and not seeing them as faults. I love that twinkle in your eye when you see me embracing my “favorite things”—I know in your own way you relate to your favorite things as well.
Until next time my dear Friend ... do you remember when we went to that place, and I said this while you did that .... and then .... :-) Wasn't it great?
Sleep well, I look forward to our next chat. ~ Sdo
I miss your voice, your laugh. I remember all the good times we shared. Our silly inside jokes that mean nothing to everyone else.
I’ve felt deep passions since we last spoke—good and bad. I’ve been hurt severely, but also loved intensely. It’s funny, for me these both sides of this spectrum stir deep down in the same place—the pit of my stomach. That painful hurt makes my stomach drop or tie in knots and love makes it well up with butterflies. Oh, what an experience!
And I’m not sure if you can really recover from either—love or hurt. Because I can revisit it years later and feel fine, but something triggers it again and all those powerful feelings bubble up.
Johnny Rzeznik of the Goo Goo Dolls says that “scars are souvenirs we’ll never lose, the past is never far.” I agree, but I’ll add wrinkles are earned, a past smile we should never forget.
See, the GGD and Johnny still hold in a place in my heart. As does Travis Jervey, purple, Van Gogh, duckies and llamas. Some things never change. And thank you my friend for accepting my obsessions (there I said it!) and not seeing them as faults. I love that twinkle in your eye when you see me embracing my “favorite things”—I know in your own way you relate to your favorite things as well.
Until next time my dear Friend ... do you remember when we went to that place, and I said this while you did that .... and then .... :-) Wasn't it great?
Sleep well, I look forward to our next chat. ~ Sdo
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