Here's Your Sign

Watching one of my favorite comedian's (Bill Engvall) tonight reminded me of this incident... The morning I was to have that minor surgery, after Thanksgiving, I woke up with a raging headache. Not a migraine, but one that I could probably get rid of with some tylenol. Having been instructed not to eat or drink anything after midnight, I couldn't take anything. Driving to the hospital I was starting to feel like I was going to hurl. Outpatient surgery informed me that my surgery wasn't actually scheduled until 3:45, not 9am like the doc had told me. I still had to stay because of all this other crap they had to do to me. My friend Kim, who was there with me and has probably forgotten more medical crap than I have ever known, told me just take the pills with a sip of water. It'll all be out of my system long before the surgery. I'm a caffeine and breakfast kind of girl, so I'm already spiralling into a foul mood. After being assigned my room, the nurse starts asking me questions while I'm filling out some forms. Have I eaten or drank anything? Sure, see this bottle of water? I have drank this much (maybe 2 ounces). She was aghast, and proceeded to condemn me for doing such a horrible thing. "And we might just have to cancel your surgery and schedule it for another day and..." Hehe, really??? "Nothing against your staff, but the doctor and his staff have already pissed me off and if we could start over another day because I had a sip of water? Fine, let's do that. Can I go now?" She would have to check with the doctor. Well apparently the bit of water was A OK with the good doc. About a half hour later the same nurse came running back in..."Has anyone done a pregnancy test on you?" Hmmm don't think so? She handed me a cup and I lost it, completely lost it I was laughing so hard I could barely stand up. My thought was "Here's Your Sign" but instead I managed to say, through the bursts of laughter "If I wasn't supposed to have anything to eat or drink after midnight, how do you purpose I fill this? I bet you're glad I drank that water now!" The woman in the bed next to mine lost it...

Naming Names?

Aha! Someone was eve's dropping on my conversation the other day. We were talking about the latest coward in Omaha to go up against innocent lives with an automatic weapon. God, how pissed I was when the news was talking about his note saying at least he would be famous now. Well don't publish his name! Don't utter it on air. Ever. Don't give them what they were looking for. Remember the Virginia Tech shooting? He sent that package to the news station between shootings! In part, this article is true. Did I remember the name of the Columbine shooters? No I didn't. I don't remember the name of the guy who shot the people at Albertson's here. Already I had forgotten the name of the Virginia Tech guy. People remember the act more than the one who committed it or were victims of it. The media is who drills this information into our brains. There was a lot more reported about the shooter than the victims. Someone who is a little wacko, or a lot wacko, may see this as some kind of glory. Where the media is concerned I understand they have a certain obligation to report the news. Come on, if you don't glorify what the shooter did and focus on the humanity, the victims and there families and what they lost maybe, just maybe one guy out there will change his mind when he sees there's no recognition in it. No blaze of glory, no media frenzy. Could this maybe fall under a matter of public safety? If one channel, one broadcaster had the balls to set this kind of precedence or if the public clamored for it, maybe we could help end this type of thing. If it prevented it from happening once it would be worth it, "duty to informing the public" be damned.

Since I'm bitching about the media, on a separate note here, I really don't care what Paris Hilton, Lindsey Lohan or Britney Spears is doing! If it doesn't pertain to a movie or CD I don't want to know! Even then I really, really don't. Since Paris Hilton is only famous for being famous I would never have to hear about her again! I would put money on the fact that many reporters could not name one soldier killed in Iraq. Those are the names that should be headlines, not some twitty Hollywood starlets.

Stepping off my soapbox now...

Don't Blink

Whenever I watch this video I get a little misty-eyed, and I'm not really sure why. When I was a kid I remember people telling me how time flies as you get older, being a kid my attitude was "whatever". Of course, now I know what they were talking about. It's hard to believe I've been 30 for a year, and now I'm 31. Youth is truly wasted on the young. Time is slipping by and I'm trying to make the most of it, every chance I get. Doing things I may have put off and now I don't. We don't know how many tomorrow's we have been given so we might as well make the most of today.

Here's another song that kind of got me too. Don't you wish you could go back and tell yourself these things? An interesting twist on the "if I knew then what I know now".

It's got claws!?!

My friend's and I were talking about how maybe we got through November unscathed this year. Then I told her about putting the previous entry on here and her jaw dropped. Yup, I did it. Well November landed on my ass, literally. The day after I posted that. We made our traditional Thanksgiving trek to Utah, these friend's really are my family. Side note: Sometimes the meds I take give me a fever and sore throat for a day or so after so that was no indicator. Anyway, Thanksgiving night we were all drinking - a lot. Add a bit of snow to the rum and someone will fall on her ass, in the driveway, and not remember what she fell on. The next day I noticed a couple of scratches and what looked like two little holes on my rear. No pain, or a second thought about them. Still had the fever. Saturday night I leaned against the kitchen counter and it hurt, a lot. Still had the fever. Those two holes were now red, swollen, pea sized. The transformation from Saturday night to Sunday morning was remarkable. Now they were saucer sized, hot and bright red. After investigating the driveway I am still at a loss as to what could have caused those. On the drive home they opened up (ruined that pair of jeans) and I knew I was screwed. Already I knew what cellulitis (staph infection) was and I used Google to confirm my suspicions. Monday I was at the urgent care when they opened, by Tuesday I was in surgery to remove some of the tissue and assist in the drainage process. Gross. Morphine is very cool and I learned you can get a hangover from it. Also learned pain can be bad enough to make you black out and vomit. So here it is Sunday and I can now sit long enough to type up my tale of woe. No pun intended. It could have been worse, I know you can die from a staph infection. Thank God I recognized what it was, Thank God November is over for another year.

Somewhere I know this might be it, this maybe when. Maybe it will stop. I can hope. Writing this some time ago I never had the balls to put it in on here. I was told it's not the right time. When will it be? Twenty years? Thirty years? My death bed? Some may read this and think "get over it". You've not lived it. Sometimes during the year it crosses my mind but in October it begins to scratch my brain. It's coming. Open season. Maybe now I can and maybe, just maybe I'm not opening Pandora's box...

Wake Me Up When November Ends...

This may never see the light of day buy I'm writing it anyway. So if you see this and it disappears, I've changed my mind. There's a November thing that can't be explained, but I'm going to try. When I write about things that are bothering me it helps. Writing about this before (not here) scared me. Similar to that child like fear of the dark or monsters in the closet. If I put it on paper, the monster is real and not just in my head. The other day I realized its been 15 years, this November will be 15 years. Two people share this with me, we were together when it started and we've been together since. This is not the tie that binds us, but its a large thread woven into the fabric of our friendship. A "curse" sounds very over the top, mellow dramatic or whatever. There really isn't another name for it except "November" for the three of us. Usually I can be cryptic and vague on here and only tell exactly how much needs to be known. This can't be this way. Fuck it, here it goes...

When your fifteen it's not possible to look at your friend and think "dead". No matter how much blood there is, and not just blood. Even when the air is heavy with gun smoke. You can taste it. She's not moving. Some part of me knew and maybe that's what kept my feet weighted to floor. Kept me from going to her. Kept the nightmares from being worse than they were. When the cops arrived he couldn't hide the surprise on his face when I asked if she was alright. "She's gone, she never knew what hit her." He wanted to be sure I knew she didn't suffer. Not when it's a .357. She was here, and now she's not. Really part of me thought I could be wrong, maybe it was her leg he hit (there was blood there) and not her head. The whole thing is surreal, parts are in slow motion, yet I remember every detail as if it happened yesterday. The fear and complete shock on my two best friend's faces, must be exactly what they saw on mine.

That's where the November thing started. The following year my best friend's grandmother had a stroke and our friend Tim Purdy dropped dead at a movie theatre. We started to wonder. Two years later our grandparents were in a severe car accident and my husband lost his job, on the same day. We started to dread November. I won't go thru a whole timeline here, just some of the worst. Stella was shot on November 19th. Tim collapsed on November 19th, they pulled the plug November 21st. My stepmother lost her fight with cancer on November 19th. My son was mauled by a dog November 9th and my transmission went out two days later. My husband left on November 17th. My mother was in a car accident November 1st. My son had stitches in his head November 28th. My grandma passed away November 6th. I think you may get my point. I counted my blessings last November when the only thing that happened to me was my refrigerator quit working. The bottom line is it affected all three of us. Sometimes it's minor inconveniences, vehicles breaking or losing jobs. Death has touched this month repeatedly, no birth days in my family. We dread November and I'm tired of it. My original plan was to move to Colorado around the 15th of November if either of the jobs came thru. Screw the November thing. In the back of my mind something was saying do you really want to do that? With fourteen bad November's passed do you want to chance that the 15th one will be different somehow? My thought was maybe it was a good time to thumb my nose at it. Start something new. With the track record we have in this month it's probably not a good idea. Wake me up when November ends.

My People

Some thoughts were going thru my head after this last weekend. I really had fun. Live music, explosions, loud jets and men in uniform. What more could a girl ask for? Those things you can get anywhere most of the time. What really stuck out to me and made it fun was the people I was with. If it had just be me I would have enjoyed it, but it wouldn't have been the same. These are my people, my friends, the one's that know all about me and love me anyway. Taking the wrong bus and ending up lost at the speedway would have sucked if my friends weren't there laughing about how our fine Nevada "edumacation" was shining through. My friend and I both drooling over the same hotty in the straw cowboy hat downtown, laughing til we were in tears, arguing over which guy in the band (Halfway to Hazard) we were going to take home. Last night a couple of my friends had a great night and all we did was sit in the back of the truck drinking moonshine and bs'ing! Do I really want to leave that? Part of me knows you would never relocate for people, so why would you stay? The rule goes both ways right? For moments like that I could stay, might even be worth it. Then I think, sure it's easy to keep doing what I've been doing. Easier to stay miserable than take a huge leap of faith. I'll make friends in Colorado, I'm sure of it. This is the hardest part. They'll never compare to what I'm about to leave behind.

If Love Was A Plane

There's something that the majority of us keep subjecting ourselves to over and over. Even though we have a 100% failure rate we still keep trying. Searching for that heart pounding, butterfly creating, sleep depriving, all consuming love. Praying that when that newness finally fades that it has shifted to something deeper. That you're not left standing there wondering what the hell you were thinking, or worse you have shifted and the other person is wondering what they were thinking. There are forever people and there are right now people. When you take that leap...know which one you are. Forever people know that there is an emotion, beyond the heart thudding giddiness, that develops when that fades away. "Right now" people are just that, in it for right now. Once they can sleep again and the butterflies have vanished they are collecting their DVD's and clothes in search of the next new thing. The magic is gone. Next. You can see where a forever person might get the shaft here. If one would stop and think for a moment "Can I trust myself with their heart?", listen to your gut, know if you're not thinking of their feelings - let them go. Know yourself. Even with the odds against us, we still try. All we need to do is win one hand.

Yea, there's a new guy. Knowing that my intentions are to leave here, I treaded lightly. My stupid heart doesn't need somebody trying to convince me to stay. So I probed. Do you really like living here? Luckily he's been here long enough to not care for it anymore, he's on the fence. Either that or he didn't want to express enthusiasm to one side or the other. Screw it, I told him I was leaving and gave him his chance to bail, before either of us is in too far. His reaction? Can I go? Wasn't expecting that. So, I told him we'd cross that bridge IF we get to it. Another reaction that I wasn't expecting was the wounded look. So I said, "Not implying that's where we're headed, but realistically, have you ever had a relationship that didn't end?"

"Imagine now, the pilots voice, on the intercom right before we leave the ground.
Sayin, folks thanks for flyin with us, but there's a 6 in 10 chance we're goin' down.
If love was a plane, nobody'd get on."
-Brad Paisley

Pride Sucks

What's wrong with me! A friend of mine wants to pay for me to go to Homestead, FL for the final Nascar race of the season...and I can't say yes and I can't say no. Part of me is thinking my god that's a lot of money. Another part is thinking he can afford it and it's once in a lifetime experience. As big a Nascar fan as I am I've never been able to afford to go to a race. I believe, in most circumstances, if you didn't earn it you can't appreciate it. Everything I've gotten I've worked my ass off to get. This is seriously a case of the devil on one shoulder and an angel on the other and I don't know who to believe. Why is this so hard? Do I really have that much pride??? Just can't get past it, maybe I won't regret saying no, but I know I'll feel small for saying yes. That's my answer.

Until Next Year...

Yes, I watched every moment of the World Series. What movie was that line from? "Watch out kid, they'll break your heart." Not for me, my heart broke for them. Maybe it was the 8 days off, maybe they just went cold, maybe they finally met their match. They did improve over each game, had they made it to game 5 I think they may have won. Since they never made excuses, I'm not going to either. No matter how that series turned out, no one can take away what they accomplished in just getting there. They had a record setting season, that 13 inning game against the Padres will go down in history, won 21 out of 22 and swept the postseason teams they faced. They were the hottest thing in baseball for more than a month. No one can take that away.

Congrats to the Red Sox and their fans... I hope we kick your ass next year. :)

The Road Not Taken

Sometimes I get the feeling that people think I've not done anything interesting. Maybe I've not seen the skyscrapers of New York City, swam with dolphins in the Caribbean or even been to the Grand Canyon. Hell I've only been to the coast four times and I've never been further east than Iowa. Not that the world doesn't interest me, it just has to wait. Since sixteen my life has been another kind of adventure. You want excitement? Lose a two year old at the mall the day after Thanksgiving. In another state. You want a rush? Just see if you can reach the street before he does, when you can hear the car coming and he's at the age that it's fun to run from mommy. Barefoot, at a full run after him, that gravel driveway never seemed so long and so short all at once. Heart pounding thrills? Try to decipher "a fire in the garage" from a wailing three year old (sounds a lot like "I fell off the couch"). Then try to put that fire out before it spreads beyond the garage. Try not to be too mad at him when he brings you the phone saying "Mama, there's a lady" because he called the fire department himself. Not 911, but the fire department. Beauty? Those big blue eyes peering over the bumper pad first thing in the morning. When the day before you swore he wouldn't see daylight again. You can learn to lie. When he's in a hospital bed and looking you in the eyes for your reaction to how bad the neighbor's dog mangled his leg. When all you want to do is puke, instead you smile and say "That's not so bad. They'll be able to fix that up no problem." Make an excuse to duck out into the hallway before your lunch and the tears come out. You can learn to act. When the dean tells you he started the largest food fight in the school's history. All you can think is "how does he not have an ounce of food on him?" and fight back giggles because you're the mom and that stuff's not supposed to be funny. But it is. Sure I remember how bitter cold the ocean was the first time the waves washed over my bare feet along the coast of Oregon. I've watched the sun disappear into the bay in San Diego. Once I saw a tornado in Nebraska (once will always be enough on that experience). I know how loud rain is when beating on the stalks of a cornfield and the how sulphur from a geyser smells. I remember falling asleep in the shade of the aspen trees along the banks of Deer Creek, and having him wake me up to show me the whole stringer of trout he caught by himself. He needed help getting the hook out of his thumb. I also remember the first time he smiled, his first steps, his first lunar eclipse (he exclaimed "Oh No! Mama the moon burned out"), when he learned to ride a bike (and learned to take a fall), when he caught his first fish, his first day of junior high, the first time he was able to pick me up and I can't count the number of times he's made me laugh to tears. Maybe I'm not as worldly, traveled or sophisticated as some but I'm not "missing" anything. Giving him everything he needs to be the best he can. No matter how tough it's been, this is the path that was taken and I wouldn't trade one second of it for a thousand trips around the world.

Well I’m thankful for the things I have,
And all the things I don’t.
And I’ve got dreams that will come true,
And I’ve got some that won’t.
- Chris Knight "Enough Rope"

Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I-
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
- Robert Frost

Did I mention?




WORLD SERIES BABY!

This last week was kind of rough. Usually I try not to let people get to me and drag me down. I had every right to be pissed at someone for a minute. We're both lucky we haven't spoken because I would have unloaded on him and been very childish about the whole thing. There were a few choice words that, I now know, were better left unspoken. My censorship mechanism would have been fully disengaged and it would have ended with me being the jerk. With the time that has passed I've been able to think things through. Being able to appreciate the reasons behind the lies doesn't change anything. Part of me is already over it, all of me will never be able to fully trust him again. That's what hurts more than anything.

Anyway today I am feeling way to damn good! Probably emphasized by the fact that I am moving on from that other crap. The Rockies won again last night and I really believe they are World Series bound, they are one win away! At this point they seem unstoppable. Honestly I think my excitement may have even surpassed the Angels winning the World Series in 2002. Remembering the Rockies starting out in the 90's I latched onto them back then, because they were new, but they never really went very far and I lost interest when they only made out of the regular season once. With the Angels choking in the post season I'm thrilled I still have a team to root for, and what amazing games these guys have delivered! Making history with every inning. All the way baby! Where's the broom?

On a side note about the whole getting the hell out of sorryville... If everything goes ok between now and then I will be leaving here in January or February at the latest. A good friend offered me a place to stay, figuring I have enough to move with right now. That should give me enough time to get everything wrapped up here. God my stomach hurts thinking about it! Imagine me not in this hell hole anymore!

Karma Is A Bitch

Once a lie is out there you can't bring it back. It can't be untold. The trust can't be unbroken. The friendship didn't mean enough for you to tell me the truth. Makes me wonder what else you lied to me about because you didn't think I was worth the truth. Did you think I wouldn't notice? Apparently I wasn't that much to lose. Anyone who really knows me is aware of how I feel about lying. Honesty is crucial and its a deal breaker. On the flip side, I also believe in not doing things you will need to lie about later. Never would I have condemned you for your actions, I would have been surprised and got over it. Omission is one thing, but when I ask you a direct question... if you didn't want to say just tell me its none of my business, even if it does effect me. Now I don't believe you anymore. Forgiveness is simple as I will not carry this with me, forgetting will be a lot harder. It's not up to me to pass judgment, but it is up to me to decide the character of those I surround myself with. You reap what you sow. There's no way I'll be around for that harvest.

"I have seldom known anyone who deserted truth in trifles that could be trusted in matters of importance." - William Paley

Cleveland School

While at work today I wrote this... I guess it hit me hard because my son is the same age. His school was locked down last year because someone (an adult) brought a gun on campus.

Sometimes I wish we didn't have the news on in here. Right now all I want to do is go home and hug my son. I can't stop thinking about him. He's 14, too. What could make someone of that age do that? What could be so wrong? How could someone not know? How could a child get to that point and no one notice? At that age you really don't have the concept that death is forever. Now he is, dead at 14.

Everything feels like it has to be now. The kaleidoscope of lights and zig-zag lines across my vision is starting to happen everyday. They told me it was an ocular migraine. My eyeball has a headache. They've told me a lot of things. The best parts of my life, the parts that matter, I want to spend living, working and playing somewhere that appeals to me. Somewhere we can have a better life, somewhere I might be able to afford the medication that can prolong the parts that really matter. It has to be now because I don't know what kind of later there will be. Something's shouldn't be funny, but they have to be. Like when I was driving the other day and I realized if one of my not so great tires picked now to blow... I'm driving on my spare. Not being negative, maybe stupid, but not negative. That's a good indication of how this feels. Four bald tires and no spare. It became funny when I started comparing it to Nascar. Maybe I can get away with just a two tire change this stop for track position. You'll know when I get there. The car with sparks flying, riding on the rims and the driver praying the bearings don't seize. Maybe I can do a Clint Bowyer and cross the finish line upside down on fire. I have to laugh at this stuff because I refuse to cry.

"There comes a time in everyone's life when all you can see are the years passing by, and I have made up my mind those days are gone." - Rascal Flatts

Country Radio Part 2



Somehow on a previous post about country radio I think it may have ended up in a rant that included some artists. This is not a retraction but rather a further explanation. Some artists are radio icons, radio ready or whatever you want to call it. Having earned the place in heavy rotation through whatever means, which sometimes we forget, also includes talent. During other discussions I've had recently I realized the whole point was forgotten. It was not to criticize the artists who are fortunate enough to have their music on the radio, it was to complain about the radio beating those songs to death. To keep myself from burning out on some of my favorites (Tim McGraw, Rascal Flatts and Kenny Chesney) I stopped listening to country radio altogether. This was also to keep from hating the fresh fish that have started out in heavy rotation. Going back to XM radio I've fixed that problem. They play enough variety plus artists you will never find on any Clear Channel station (ie. Steve Earle, Chris Knight, Randy Rogers). Anyway, the argument was never aimed at the artists but radio for the lack of variety. No, I'm not one of those people who are now shutoff to radio all together, I just like to have choices. For someone who can listen to everything from Linkin Park and Blue October to Waylon and Willie, XM is the bomb!

Things Change

Enough time has gone by I doubt you read this anymore (or if you ever did). You know how writing makes me feel better, like removing a splinter. This one has festered long enough. Just for the record, and I know I told you anyway, I didn't mean to break your heart or mine in the process. Sometimes things change, at least we could agree on that. Losing someone else was never my intention and I never meant to push you away. There's so many things about you I miss, and some I don't. Muddling along was ok for me, for awhile, even after I knew it wasn't working out. It was like the elephant in the living room no one wants to talk about. Walking around it, setting your coffee on it and looking under it to watch TV doesn't mean it's not there anymore. We could talk about everything except us. Maybe if we had of things would have been different. Life lesson number 7,342... at the expense of something else that could have been good. Maybe not forever good, but for awhile good. We'll never know.

'There ought to be a town somewhere
Named for how I feel
Yeah I could be the mayor down there
And say ‘welcome to sorryville’
It wouldn’t be on a map no where
You might say that it don’t exist
But if you make enough wrong turns
It’d be hard to miss
There ought to be a bridge somewhere they could dedicate to me
I'd probably come to the ceremony with a can of gasoline
Walk on over to the other side
Where I'd light a match
Sit and stare through the smoke and flames and wonder how I'm gonna get back
Why do I do the things I do?
Was I born this way or am I self made fool?
I shoot the lights and I curse the dark
I need your love but I break your heart
And I know the words that’ll bring you back
But I don’t say nothing as I watch you pack
I had to work to become the jerk I've come to be
It ain’t easy being me.'

-Chris Knight

and that's all i have to say about that

Someone asked me the other day why I never told them I had MS. Eh, my answer was because I didn't think about it. Honestly the only time I ever think about it is when my thumb starts moving as if it has a mind of its own or when I have to take the shot every other day. Why would I want to remind myself that I have an incurable disease? That my immune system got bored (must be cuz I never get sick) and attacked my central nervous system? Fuck it, life's to short as it is, I'm not going to waste time on something I can't do anything about. Besides, I don't want the sympathy, I don't want to explain it and I don't want anyone looking at me differently. Nothing about me has changed, it's not like I grew a 3rd eye or something. Symptoms come and go, luckily for me they mostly go. Other than the bipolar that went away, and the shit curtain eye, the only other long term symptom I've had was about 8 years ago. My hand went numb for over a year. It started out with excruciating pain in my hand and arm. The doctor told me it was carpel tunnel. A few days later it went numb. Blistered-my-hand-on-the-oven-and-didn't-feel-it numb, I just knew "hmmm that should be hot". In my infinite wisdom at the time, no pain = no doctor. A year later I noticed I could feel it again. No pins and needles or anything to announce the arrival, it was just back. Anyway, maybe because of the manner in which the diagnoses took place it afforded me some relief. The guesses that were made prior, tumor, blood clot, stroke etc etc were way worse and potentially fatal. So when I heard multiple sclerosis my reaction was "that's it?" Yea, yea I know it is potentially disabling. Medically speaking the prognosis is better the younger you are, and I've already started treatment. In 8 years I've had three flare-ups, not too bad. Better than being dead. No sense in speculating the potential path it may or may not take. I'm fine, and no matter what the outcome is, I'll be fine anyway.

Here's the list I spoke of yesterday...

The things I liked:

The first thing I noticed was how nice the air smelled. There is a certain sweet, crisp quality to it. I believe it's called fresh air.
There was not a single house that was tan stucco with a red spanish tile roof. I swear every single house built here since the mid 80's is like that.
The city, even downtown, is very clean. Never really noticed how much trash you see in Vegas until now.
The light rail is also very clean. It had regular people on it, not weirdos like when you ride the city bus here.
No slot machines.
I don't remember seeing any pan handler's "will work for food" or homeless people. Maybe they keep them somewhere I didn't go, or maybe the city actually tries to take care of it's residents.
The buildings downtown are HUGE. Unlike the gaudy, neon covered hotels here these were very elegant looking.
You can go just a few miles one way or another and be in different terrain. Ponds, parks, trees, mountains and what looked like prairie.
The people are friendly. Probably all that fresh air.
Starbucks is everywhere. We were sitting next to a Starbucks and there was one across the street in a bookstore.
The tap water is not hard so it doesn't dry out my skin and hair(I remembered that from when my uncle lived there).
Groceries are cheaper.
The apartments there are amazing looking. Again, no stucco with red or blue tile roofs or off-pink wood siding. The apartments here don't even care if the colors look right together. My friend's apartment was one of the nicest I've ever seen.
It was kinda hot on one of the days, yet when you get in the shade you cool right off. The breeze felt cool, not like a hair dryer sucking all the moisture from you.
You don't have to walk through a casino to get to a movie theater, concert or restaurant.

Ok, there's only a couple things I didn't like:

The airport is out pretty far from town and there's a toll road going to it? I thought that was weird.
The oxygen is thin. On one hand I'm a cheap drunk, on the other hand I'm winded after walking a half mile (I normally walk/jog 2 miles without being winded).
No Roberto's.
No In 'N Out.

I'll get over that.

Sittin On Go

Maybe I'm a little crazy, but I don't think so. Not this time. How many years do I spend hating where I live? If after 24 years I don't have even a little affection for this town I don't think it's gonna happen. A friend asked me if there was anything about Vegas that I liked. Mulling that one over for awhile I had three answers - concerts, some 24 hour benefits and when I can see it disappearing in my review mirror. Sometimes I feel like it's weighing me down because I'm not happy here. The cost of living keeps going up and the wages stay the same. Two words - Nevada Power. We need lube when that bill arrives every month ($386 for this month). They just had a rate hike. Again. Anyway, I been thinking today. If, for whatever reason (because I blew it), I don't get a call about this job I'm outta here anyway. Utah would be great, but that's not going to happen unless I plan on living in poverty. Their cost of living is seriously off kilter from the wages. Not interested in California or Arizona. Colorado is nice and it looks like the price is right. I have years of experience in my line of work and it looks like there are a lot of employment opportunities there, even more than here. If it doesn't work out, I'll try somewhere else. I have a plan. All I'm doing here is spinning my wheels in the sand, getting nowhere. Stagnating. I wasn't born here and I hope to god I don't die here, but it's killing me to stay. Financially and emotionally killing me. Crazy? Not so much. Crazy is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results.

"When the way comes to an end - Change. Having changed you pass through." - I-Ching

"When I started pushing 30 it started pushing back." - Gary Allan

Hindsight

For the most part I can actually say I'm totally happy with myself. That statement alone is pretty close to a miracle considering some of the crap I went thru a few years ago. Through out my life I've done pretty well at having no regrets and not looking back. I don't dwell in the past on mistakes I've made, it's done, over with and behind me. Learn from it and move on. This past weekend I feel like I made a huge mistake. This time words didn't get me in trouble, it was the lack of them that did. For the first time in my life I was so paranoid about making a good impression that I wasn't myself. He introduced me to the head of QA, potentially my new boss. Too scared of saying something stupid I didn't say anything at all. It was too important to me not to screw it up. Not only do I feel like I embarrassed myself, but I also probably embarrassed my friend who was kind of sticking his neck out for me. He placed an opportunity in front of me and I just stood there. A better job, in a better place, that would be hard at first but totally worth it. It's bad enough I'm disappointed in myself, but worse to think he might be too. He signed up for one person and got somebody else. He was funny, cute, weird and a gentlemen, everything I already knew he was. I totally enjoyed his company, I felt like this was someone I could be friends with for a long time. He showed me things I had never seen before. Sometimes I felt kind of naive or ignorant in the simplicity of those experiences. I had never drank beer at a baseball game before, or even been to an MLB game (Coors at Coors Field, coolest thing ever). Never had I seen a horse drawn carriage or rode on a train. No one has made me laugh hard enough that I blew snot out of my nose (luckily not coffee!) in I don't know how long. Never have I had someone be so sweet to me and not expect anything in return. What did I do? I think blew it because I wasn't myself. Trying to stay positive here, I don't know for a fact that this is a lost opportunity. If it doesn't happen, I'll know it was for a reason and move on. This I'll get through and I'll put it behind me, but if I lost his friendship that will be a hard one to get by.
Anyway, I hope I did better than I feel I did. When I first got there, my first impression of the city was that it felt like home. I could see myself living there. All that was just a gut reaction, before my friend showed me anything really. The prospect of moving scares me to death, but in a good way. So cross your fingers... say a prayer...burn a green candle, whatever you do for people and do it for me, and ask that this works out.

Time In A Bottle

Something I was reading earlier made me want to finally put this out... I've been the rounds with this person and nothing helps. I've sat in my car and cried with her after I played "Live Like You Were Dying". Explaining to her this is the only life you have, the only one God has given you and the only chance you have and your pissing it all away. If you were to die tomorrow what would people remember about you? Is that the legacy you want? I held her hand while she dumped the bottle down the sink and held her while she cried and promised no more. Will I drive you to the store? No, but I will pick up whatever you need as long as it's not a bottle because I will not enable you. Taking the low road, crying again, I yelled at her "How many children does your mother have to bury? The only difference between your suicide and your brother's is a shotgun." She's done well so many times and I've been so proud of her, I tell her how good she looks when her eyes are clear and her face isn't swollen. I know when I see her when those stretches of time are over. When her bloodshot eyes can't meet mine. She lies. I told her all the things I thought would get through to her. Everything that should have been said has been said. The dead horse has been beaten. Sure, I still talk to her sometimes but I've walked away. She knows, because I told her, I can no longer watch her die. Do I have guilt? Not anymore. Not after what I've said to her, not after the things I've tried. I can, with a clear conscience, say I did everything in my power to reach her. You can't help someone who does not want to change or take your help

Falling Down

While watching something yesterday I heard a pretty accurate description of falling in love....

"Do you ever put your arms out and spin and spin really fast? That's what love is like, makes your heart race and turns your world upside down. If you're not careful, if you don't keep your eyes on something still, you can lose your balance. You can't see what's happening around you, you can't see you're about to fall."

May not be the most eloquent description, but it's still pretty close. It's not the falling that kills you, its the sudden stop. You never know how bad it will hurt until you land.

Persuasion and Snow

Somebody talked me into something. I agreed to it. If that somebody is reading this, I want you to know I have the worst case of butterflies ever. I haven't been on an airplane in 14 years. Pre- 9/11. The more I think about it though, the flying is not the part that is making me nervous. It's what happens after I get off the plane... How will we get along? How in love am I gonna fall with the city? It won't take much for me to want to move seeing how I hate living here so much. Hope he can handle being stuck with me for 3 days... and teaching me how to drive in the snow. It snows there, I just have to picture everything with three feet of snow on it...just keep telling myself that.

New "Country"

There is something I've known for awhile but only recently have gotten pissed about. Country radio. I was reading something earlier and I see I am not the only one who feels the same way. Listen to rock, metal, alternative what ever the hell they call it these days. If you tune to our local rock station you will hear anything from the Beatles to the newest release from Daughtry. Back to back. No special time set aside for those "classic rock" moments. They are what our current music was built on and built from. They are honored by having their hits as well as their newest releases played on the radio, usually daily. When Ozzy comes out with something new you definetly know about it right away. Then there is this embarassment of a genre of country music. How can you ignore everything that helped you get where you are? Other than Country Chuck on Sundays here you will never hear anything older than the mid 90's on country radio. I feel so sorry for the newer country listeners. They have no idea what the music they are listening to was based on. They have probably never heard George Jones, Waylon Jennings or Buck Owens. What was the Bakersfield Sound? Jimmy Dean was not originally famous for sausages. Most artists, aside from George Strait and Alan Jackson, who have that old country sound are completely ignored. There are artists that I thought had fallen off the map, like Tracy Byrd and Vince Gill. They're still around...they went country. Don't get me wrong there are some excellent contemporary artists out there. Brad Paisley, Toby Keith (he actually got Willie Nelson on the radio!), Josh Turner and some others are doing a fine job. I'm sorry Keith Urban and Rascal Flatts are not country. The O' Brother Where Art Thou? soundtrack sold over 6 million copies with no radio airplay. Peh. How could that have gone unnoticed? Right now I'm just frustrated to hear the same songs by the same handful of artists over and over again on the radio. While in the background living legends are completely ignored. The whole thing that started this is my local stations refusing to play the new Gary Allan single. Now that I know what's missing I wonder what else I've been missing? What other great songs are out there that I've missed because it was a square peg that didn't fall into the round hole country has become.

Watching Airplanes...

I saw him play this song during the show at Sunset Station back in May and absolutely loved it. I waited patiently for the single to be released. Now that it's available, I've yet to hear any of my local stations play it. To me it sounded like a number one hit. I found the damn thing myself and now I can hear it anytime I want to. So there. Oh yea, and if anyone else wants to hear it look to the right...no video, just the song.

Chocolates

I don't know whether to laugh or cry reading this.... it's funny but not, taken at the surface it's only funny. When you get the depth to it...weird.

"Life is like a box of chocolates: A cheap, thoughtless, perfunctory gift that nobody ever asks for, unreturnable, because all you get back is another box of chocolates. So you're stuck with this undefinable whipped mint crap that you mindlessly wolf down when there's nothing else left to eat. Sure, once in a while there's a peanut butter cup or English toffee, but they're gone too fast and the taste is fleeting. So you end up with nothing but broken bits filled with hardened jelly and teeth-shattering nuts. And if you're desperate enough to eat those, all you've got left is an empty box filled with useless brown paper wrappers. "

My addition... You will get wiser in your selections as you pick thru the box. You will still end up picking the crappy stuff on occasion. The real hard pieces will make your teeth stronger and appreciative of the softer ones. It's still chocolate. Even when it's bad, its still pretty good and better than no box at all.

credit to the widow

What a difference a year makes part II...

Many previous posts were fueled by a crazy part of my life. Roughly four years ago I was, what I know now, misdiagnosed as being bipolar. I had bouts of depression prior to that but who doesn't? I just never had the mood swings flip so freaking often. One minute I was full of energy and was the best thing on the planet and the next I was ready to die. So I went to the doctor, was given pills, and went on with my life. Not too much thought went into any previous medical history. The doctor assured me this was normal to suddenly develop this. After awhile the meds stopped working. After fighting thru several changes in medication and dealing with all the side effects (one was narcolepsy, what fun that was). I stopped taking the crap. I was fine. No more mood swings, panic attacks...nothing. Wait, isn't bipolar a life-long thing? Why did mine go away? I still had the racing thoughts occasionally and some difficulty concentrating, but was pretty much ok. My thought was eh, whatever. If it comes back I'll deal with it. For other reasons I had started losing weight and was pretty much enjoying my life. That was last summer.
The beginning of October a small dot appeared in the peripheral vision of my left eye. Over the course of a few days it spread completely across that eye. Imagine watching a tv with the brightness turned up, the contrast turned down and thru a piece of frosted glass. Most colors were washed out and light was blinding. A few guys at work were telling me "detached retina". I went to an opthamologist who told me it was an "ocular migraine". Hmm, new medical terms need to be googled. Well upon further research I found that's not what it was (they last about 30 minutes). It did explain another issue, I'll go into that later. So I went to another eye doc who was also baffled. At least he didn't bullshit me. Instead he referred me to a retina specialist and to my primary doc. The retina specialist was first. After yet another dilation of my eyes and this time injected dyes and pictures, they were also baffled. She then told me I may have had a mild stroke. Something called TIA and that I should see a neurologist right away. So I left that office thinking I may have a time bomb in my head.
The following day at work I fainted. Freaking out my co-worker who was aware of the problems I was having. That actually ended up to be pretty funny. Hehe, make fun of me about having an aneurysm. So next was my primary care doctor. She is just the coolest and I have the utmost faith in her. The blood test she ordered, my god, it took them 30 minutes just to drain enough blood to fill all the vials ordered. Brain MRI, carotid ultra sound and an echo cardiogram later the only thing she found was that I had a genetic condition that made it more likely for my blood to clot (Factor V Leiden and MTHFR). No tumors, MS or sign of a stroke. The MRI machine proved to me that I can be claustrophobic. What a horrible machine. So off to the neurologist I went. The first neurologist must have been the biggest asshole of a doctor I have ever encountered. That long ass form I had to fill out before I came in for the appointment, he never looked at it. He did not listen to me at all. He asked me questions, didn't wait for a response. Blew off every symptom to something he couldn't do anything about. The eye problem? Go back to your ophthalmologist we don't deal with eye problems here. I argued back that the optic nerve is part of the body he deals with. Even his assistant was looking at him like he was nuts. By the time I left I was so completely pissed off I couldn't speak. I waited 3 weeks for that appointment. What a waste of time. At that point I was done. No more doctor's. No more tests. I'll live with the eye problem. It had been 5 months and I kinda got used to it. Well, sometimes friends can be a real pain in the ass. Three of my friends diligently worked to convince me to go back to my primary care doctor and explain how I was treated by the doctor she referred me to. The "what if" that drove the point home was "and if you get the shit curtain on your other eye?" Fine. If only so they'd leave me alone.
The next guy was as a doctor should be. He actually read that lengthy questionnaire I filled out. He asked questions and listened to my answers, he made me feel that I was the only patient he had to see that day. More blood work and another MRI (evil fkn machine). One more trip to see him and I could shut everybody up. All he had to say was "I'm baffled, too." Then I would be done. Instead on February 20th he told me I had optic neuritis, an inflammation of the optic nerve, and judging from the other lesions on my brain it was caused by multiple sclerosis. Did I freak? Not really. I was relieved. Another MRI (grrrrr) and a spinal tap later he proved it was MS. In the meantime, he did cure my shit curtain eye with a 5 day round of IV steroids. If my luck prevails I won't ever have to take that crap again.
For doctors out there the moral of the story is... listen to your patients and take a complete medical history. It should not have taken 6 months and 6 doctors to diagnose this when I presented with two of the most common symptoms - extremity numbness and vision loss. Not to forget about the "bipolar" that went away. I'm not a doctor I don't know what dots to connect.

What a difference a year makes...

Looking thru my blog I'm sure there are posts in here with me complaining about being overweight. Last summer I had sort of an awakening. The medication I was taking for being bi-polar had caused me to gain even more weight. Not that i wasn't huge to begin with, it just added to an existing problem. My realization was you never see an elderly obese person. Because they're weight kills them long before they get to that point. I wasn't even 30 yet and at the rate I was going I wouldn't see 50. I wouldn't ever see grandkids. I couldn't lie or kid myself anymore. No miracle was going to happen and make it all go away. Take some fkn responsibility for what you have created. Since that moment I stopped taking the medication. I stopped eating junk. I stopped making excuses and procrastinating. If I kept putting this off there won't be a tomorrow. There were so many things, foodwise, that I thought I would miss. I learned that if you behave yourself most of the time you can still eat 'bad' things occasionally. When I do I don't look at as a mistake or beat myself up over it. I enjoy it and then return to normal eating habits. I really don't miss the food at all. I sure don't miss the 85 lbs I've lost. I don't miss the first bag of "fat clothes" I got rid of. I don't miss the shoes I can't wear anymore because I lost a shoe size. The most important thing I won't miss is another day of my life because of being fat.

Hello my friend, we meet again...
Something got me thinking of this place earlier. I actually thought of taking it down. I don't want to. It may not seem like it, but I put a lot of work into it. This may not even be close to the best blog out there but it's mine. I feel like I abandoned it. What I'm hoping to find is an old friend. You know the kind... You may not talk to them for awhile but when you do it's like you were never apart.