Last week marked the anniversaries of my my accident, as well as my girlfriend's accident. Is it a bad thing that I still can't use the 'D' word? I don't know. It seems wrong to say that word. I'm a firm believer in past lives, I had to be once she left because I needed a reason for why things happened the way they did. So maybe it feels wrong to say that word because she is still around, she's just not a part of my life anymore. I never know how I'm gonna feel when the actual day rolls around. Some years I've purposely gotten myself involved in a project in hopes that the day will just sail by and I can move one. Most years I've tried to do that actually. This year, I've hardly thought about it at all but have been a bit scatterbrained the past week or so. The day before her anniversary everyone was at my grandpa's funeral and I was pretty much on my own. All of my friends were busy. I had some things to do around the house but not nearly enough to fill all of my time. Even when I do find a way to distract myself, the results are never what I hope them to be because I can't be around people and busy the full 24 hours. Eventually I have to be by myself and think about it and remember it. This year, I thought, would be a big year for remembrance and maybe even a little celebration of the fact that I'm still here a decade later. But my birthday passed with little fanfare and few people seem at all willing to talk about that time with me. Nobody talks about anything in my family. So I just shut down. And decide that there's no reason for celebration or reflection or anything. I guess that's just the way I was raised. As a result, I talked very little about what happened a decade ago and I didn't write about it at all.
So, what's changed a decade after she and I were separated? Quite a bit. Funny thing about nearly dying, the effects of it last a lot longer than you would think. A friend reminded me that, in a way, the last decade has been about survival in general. After I survived the accident I had to wake up from the coma, then I had to deal with the PTSD and depression, then I had to survive my near self-destruction and now it's about living with the anemia. All of that being a result of the accident (except for the anemia, that may not be but we'll never know). I guess it seems like kind of a lot. But the good news is I'm alive. And honestly, I wasn't sure I would be at this point. Every year, especially early on, after the accidents were a struggle. And even once I was "better" and starting to move on, I still wasn't sure how much longer I'd be around. Thinking of that time or of her was suffocating and made me wanna die. Thinking of that time or of her now is...I don't know. Sometimes I get really happy when I remember a good time that we had, or even a stupid little argument. Other times I just get sad because I know there will never be anymore opportunities for good times or arguments. And as much as I've moved on and rebuilt my life, I'd still kill for having the option for either of those. Because at least she'd be alive and well.
I guess the overwhelming feeling I've had the past week is one of...sadness. Not because I'm still in mourning or anything but because it's like what a shame that she didn't get to live. But I've also thought about how that week (and the two after where I was unconscious) changed things so much more than I ever knew. And that's good and bad. I woke up a different person and with a different life than I'd had before. But I suppose everything is as it was always meant to be. The moment it was explained to me what had happened, after I woke up, I wanted to die. That feeling as subsided the past few years though. It may have taken a lot longer than it should've but I think I finally have a handle on that 'whole new appreciation for life' thing that people who've had near-death experiences talk about. I'm extremely lucky and grateful to be here. And hopefully the next decade is A LOT easier than this past one.
Monday, April 30, 2012
Sunday, April 29, 2012
Ask Me My Opinion, My Opinion Will Be People Everywhere Just Got To Be Free
I had an interesting debate with my cousin's lady friend about the well-publicized Arizona law that basically allows them to pull over anyone they suspect of being an illegal immigrant. Her view was that us Latino folk be too sensitive about it and that we all have to carry some form of ID anyway in this country, so what's the big deal? My side is that the law almost encourages racial profiling (at the very least makes it okay) and that no one should have to worry about being pulled over or stopped because of the color of their skin. It seems as though some people just assume anyone dark who speaks Spanish is illegal and should be subjected to taunts and/or harassment. Hell, I know of people who had to deal with that and they were born and raised in this country. But it doesn't seem to matter. Sometimes you're just lumped in with everyone else because people are ignorant. Another part of my argument was that if you don't know what profiling feels like, you can't say it's 'no big deal' or that someone who has been profiled (or suspects they have been) is 'overreacting'. I mean, it's not like anyone has ever been pulled over for being too white.
This conversation was sparked by my uncle's business trip to Arizona. My mom jokingly told him to take his papers to prove he's legal because he is a darker-skinned lad. He was driving to meet a client and was pulled over and they asked for his license, etc. and then let him go without a ticket or a warning or even telling him why he was pulled over to begin with. It could've just been a coincidence or something but it made him uncomfortable and he was very happy to get outta town the next day. I've had a few experiences with racial profiling but the one that's always stuck out for me happened when I was a teenager. Ironically, the cousin who is dating this chick looks like a total white dude; light eyes, lighter hair, lighter skin, but he's very proud of his Latin roots. I'm a darker dude and I only look darker when placed under fluorescent lighting, next to a white guy. When we were teenagers we went into a music store at the mall to just look around for a minute. There was one clerk in the whole place and he was behind a counter, he nodded his head and acknowledged us walking in. Almost immediately, he moved from behind the counter to near where I was and I thought nothing of it. Then I moved to another section and he was right behind me, but trying to be subtle about it. Every time I picked something up to look at it, dude was right behind me and would start trying to make conversation. But he didn't say a word to the cousin or even look up to see where he was at. For all he knew, my cousin could've been a robber and I could've been a decoy. And had that been the case, it would have been an easy score since the register was left completely unguarded while this dude was watching me. I was extremely uncomfortable and we left not long after we'd walked in and, as we were walking away, I heard the clerk tell his manager that the downside of working there was, 'having to follow around every [racial epithet] so they don't steal'. That moment was just...I don't even like to think about it. But it stuck with me. Being followed around was bad enough but the comment just put me over the edge.
My mom, as I've mentioned before, basically looks like a white chick in spite of the fact that she's actually half-Mexican. She's probably the lightest person in the entire family. She always talks about how people would see her with these three dark kids and ask all kinds of nosy ass questions about whether we were adopted, etc. because we couldn't be hers. I don't know of anyone who gets more worked up over injustices or racism more than her, and she's only become more vocal about since she became a grandma to a bunch of kids of different races. She was the first one to tell me about the Arizona law and she made a good point recently that so much of the hate in this country has to do with the mixing of cultures and the rise of minorities. Soon white folks will be the minority and not the majority of the country. But it shouldn't matter. Everybody should have the same rights and not have to worry about being profiled or having fewer opportunities because of the color of their skin. We've come a long way with civil rights but sometimes you realize how much further we still have to go.
This conversation was sparked by my uncle's business trip to Arizona. My mom jokingly told him to take his papers to prove he's legal because he is a darker-skinned lad. He was driving to meet a client and was pulled over and they asked for his license, etc. and then let him go without a ticket or a warning or even telling him why he was pulled over to begin with. It could've just been a coincidence or something but it made him uncomfortable and he was very happy to get outta town the next day. I've had a few experiences with racial profiling but the one that's always stuck out for me happened when I was a teenager. Ironically, the cousin who is dating this chick looks like a total white dude; light eyes, lighter hair, lighter skin, but he's very proud of his Latin roots. I'm a darker dude and I only look darker when placed under fluorescent lighting, next to a white guy. When we were teenagers we went into a music store at the mall to just look around for a minute. There was one clerk in the whole place and he was behind a counter, he nodded his head and acknowledged us walking in. Almost immediately, he moved from behind the counter to near where I was and I thought nothing of it. Then I moved to another section and he was right behind me, but trying to be subtle about it. Every time I picked something up to look at it, dude was right behind me and would start trying to make conversation. But he didn't say a word to the cousin or even look up to see where he was at. For all he knew, my cousin could've been a robber and I could've been a decoy. And had that been the case, it would have been an easy score since the register was left completely unguarded while this dude was watching me. I was extremely uncomfortable and we left not long after we'd walked in and, as we were walking away, I heard the clerk tell his manager that the downside of working there was, 'having to follow around every [racial epithet] so they don't steal'. That moment was just...I don't even like to think about it. But it stuck with me. Being followed around was bad enough but the comment just put me over the edge.
My mom, as I've mentioned before, basically looks like a white chick in spite of the fact that she's actually half-Mexican. She's probably the lightest person in the entire family. She always talks about how people would see her with these three dark kids and ask all kinds of nosy ass questions about whether we were adopted, etc. because we couldn't be hers. I don't know of anyone who gets more worked up over injustices or racism more than her, and she's only become more vocal about since she became a grandma to a bunch of kids of different races. She was the first one to tell me about the Arizona law and she made a good point recently that so much of the hate in this country has to do with the mixing of cultures and the rise of minorities. Soon white folks will be the minority and not the majority of the country. But it shouldn't matter. Everybody should have the same rights and not have to worry about being profiled or having fewer opportunities because of the color of their skin. We've come a long way with civil rights but sometimes you realize how much further we still have to go.
Thursday, April 26, 2012
Incense Ruins Lives!
G: I don't know how any family deals with or survives incense.
Me: Well, it burns your nose at first but once you get used to it, it's not so bad. My grandma used to do it all the time and it didn't destroy our family. Except that one time when she tried cinnamon.
G: ????? Are you serious??
Me: Read your last text.
G: LOL Fuck me. INCEST** You know what I meant you bastard!
G: I was so confused. I thought you were telling me your grandma was involved in incest and put something up your nose as a child.
Me: Well, it burns your nose at first but once you get used to it, it's not so bad. My grandma used to do it all the time and it didn't destroy our family. Except that one time when she tried cinnamon.
G: ????? Are you serious??
Me: Read your last text.
G: LOL Fuck me. INCEST** You know what I meant you bastard!
G: I was so confused. I thought you were telling me your grandma was involved in incest and put something up your nose as a child.
We Love You Helen Keller!
A few days ago, a friend of mine told me about her inability to get hot water during her morning shower. When I asked what the problem was, she said she didn't know and mentioned the hot water worked elsewhere (should've been a clue). Tonight, her mother (henceforth known as Mama B) solved the mystery for us.
W: Soooo, remember when I said that the hot water wasn't working in my shower?
Me: Yeah
W: Well, my mom just solved the mystery for me. I forgot which way to turn the temperature thing in my own shower. I HAD TURNED ON THE COLD WATER.
Me: LOL! Damn. That is hilarious.
W: *facepalm* FML
Me: Props to your mom though. I thought that was an unsolvable mystery.
W: She explained it to me all calm like too... 'Mija, that way is for hot. That way is cold ok? Here, now you try.'
Me: LOL Oh man, I LOVE your mother
Me: Going. On. My. Blog.
W: lol And of course I checked, like a fuckin' monkey figuring out what to do with a stick and a rock, and sure enough, she was right. And Damned if I wasn't perplexed as all hell.
Me: LOL This just gets better
W: It was like the scene in the miracle worker when Helen Keller had her hand under the water and she finally figured shit out.
Me: Hilarious
Me: Was it just the one day? Or multiple days?
W: *sigh*
W: Twice
W: lol It's going in my blog too
Me: lol Embrace it Helen!!!
W: LOL Bastard
W: Soooo, remember when I said that the hot water wasn't working in my shower?
Me: Yeah
W: Well, my mom just solved the mystery for me. I forgot which way to turn the temperature thing in my own shower. I HAD TURNED ON THE COLD WATER.
Me: LOL! Damn. That is hilarious.
W: *facepalm* FML
Me: Props to your mom though. I thought that was an unsolvable mystery.
W: She explained it to me all calm like too... 'Mija, that way is for hot. That way is cold ok? Here, now you try.'
Me: LOL Oh man, I LOVE your mother
Me: Going. On. My. Blog.
W: lol And of course I checked, like a fuckin' monkey figuring out what to do with a stick and a rock, and sure enough, she was right. And Damned if I wasn't perplexed as all hell.
Me: LOL This just gets better
W: It was like the scene in the miracle worker when Helen Keller had her hand under the water and she finally figured shit out.
Me: Hilarious
Me: Was it just the one day? Or multiple days?
W: *sigh*
W: Twice
W: lol It's going in my blog too
Me: lol Embrace it Helen!!!
W: LOL Bastard
Tuesday, April 24, 2012
Expect NOTHING
I am a terrible manager of expectations. Always have been. And it started when I was I was a kid. We would spend some of our summers with our surrogate grandma, who lived in a one bedroom house (I've literally NEVER seen a smaller home than hers) but always had big dreams. Most days she didn't even get out of bed because she was sick or just didn't want to get up (I guess). But she would always talk about big things and how we were all going to do them together. We're gonna go to Disneyland or we were gonna spend the day at a water park. They weren't all huge dreams. The problem is none of them ever came true. And my mom knew they wouldn't and tried to talk the sibs and I down from our excited ledge. But it never worked with me, I always bought into the same dreams. Before that, it was my father who lured me in with talk of actually being a father to me. Somehow my sister knew it would never happen, my mom never really wanted it to happen (because she also knew it wouldn't), and my brother was too young to care. But I was all in from the moment he mentioned it. In the beginning, he would call and talk to all of us (on the low because we lived with grandma and she loathed the man) and things went well. Then the calls became more infrequent but I still wanted to believe he was just busy and would call when he could. Then the calls stopped. And all my expectations were flung by the wayside. Even now I can get myself worked up over something very quickly.
So I guess it's not a surprise that I'm feeling the same way I did when I was kid. Like I got myself all worked up and excited and then hit the ground when it didn't work out. Only this time I'm so mad at myself because I knew better than to get excited. Birthdays are like any other day of the year for me (well, mine is anyway). Doing one or two things to celebrate is usually all I do, aside from having cake. But this year I was home and it's a fairly significant week and a half in that it's the anniversaries of both accidents. And not just any year, but a decade since both of those happened. I thought that would hold some kind of significance. But it doesn't I guess. Or not to anyone but me anyway. I don't know. Tonight just made me feel very unloved. No one likes feeling that way obviously but it's worse when it's en masse. It's like...what was the point of coming out of everything I did a decade ago? Had I lived or died, everything would've been as it was tonight. I don't know...I guess the lesson is just to not have expectations. Or at least not high ones. There's no point. I started the day with high expectations and feeling awesome and then...GONE. So fuck it.
So I guess it's not a surprise that I'm feeling the same way I did when I was kid. Like I got myself all worked up and excited and then hit the ground when it didn't work out. Only this time I'm so mad at myself because I knew better than to get excited. Birthdays are like any other day of the year for me (well, mine is anyway). Doing one or two things to celebrate is usually all I do, aside from having cake. But this year I was home and it's a fairly significant week and a half in that it's the anniversaries of both accidents. And not just any year, but a decade since both of those happened. I thought that would hold some kind of significance. But it doesn't I guess. Or not to anyone but me anyway. I don't know. Tonight just made me feel very unloved. No one likes feeling that way obviously but it's worse when it's en masse. It's like...what was the point of coming out of everything I did a decade ago? Had I lived or died, everything would've been as it was tonight. I don't know...I guess the lesson is just to not have expectations. Or at least not high ones. There's no point. I started the day with high expectations and feeling awesome and then...GONE. So fuck it.
Monday, April 23, 2012
Happy Anniversary Of Your Escape From The (Overcrowded) Womb
So...it happened...I turned 31. But my family gave me an awesome book of handwritten letters to mark the occasion. I don't know if I deserve everything they said in them but it made me feel good all the same. Here are a few I've read so far.
Brother: Happy Birthday big brother! I love you and thanks for always being there. Even when I'm a jackass (Mom didn't want me to write jackass in here but you see what I did there?)
Sister: Hey there little brother. I like how I can honestly sing, 'You say it's your birthday, it's my birthday too'. I joke about having had to share the womb with you like it was some big burden but really, I had no idea that most babies get more living space in there. Just like I have no idea what it's like not to have you. We were born with built in best friends and we're very lucky. I love you very, very, very, very much. You are my favorite little brother. (Mom didn't want me to write that either but you see what I did?) You're an AWESOME friend, brother, father and man and I'm so proud of you. HAPPY BIRTHDAY!
Cousin: One time you pushed me outta the treehouse and I fell. But Happy Birthday anyway I guess :p Love ya brother!
G: You are like a brother to me, even though we're only somethings-in-law. Sure, I may tell Edwin he's my favorite of the group but you and me is family now so you moved ahead of him. But seriously if you ever need anything; a kidney, a lung, an eye patch, a dungeon to keep Miss N locked up in till she's 40, just let me know. Here's to more debauchery for you, me and the kids huh? HAPPY BLADDER!!! (Damn the iPhone! Birthday*)
Bro-In-Law: Wanna hear something depressing? We've now known eachother more than half our lives. We're so old. BUT you are the best friend I've ever had dude (aside from that chick I knocked up, I forget her name). We've been through a lot together and no doubt there's gonna be a lot more (read: teenagers). But I will always have your back no matter what. I mean, even if you commit a murder or rob a 7-11 or tear the little tag off your mattress that they say you can't tear off. ALWAYS! Whatta man, whatta man, whatta man, whatta mighty good man you are. I love ya, Happy Birthday.
Sis-In-Law: Remember when we were 12 and that guy in the gym said I was fat and you punched him? It. Was. AMAZING. You've been throwing punches to anyone who's crossed me since. I love my brother but he was 7 when I was 12 so he wasn't going to be able to defend my honor. But I gained a big brother in Jr. High. Thank you for being amazing and for loving my kids as if they were your own. And for putting up with me during my pregnancy. I'm SO SOOOO happy they will grow up knowing you and your warmth and humor. And your hugs. Because you give the best hugs on the planet! I love you!! HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!
Best Friend: As you may or may not have noticed, I am not there for your 31st (26th?) birthday extravaganza. But it doesn't mean I love you any less. Actually I love you more now that you're "26" because you're older than me! We've been on one hell of a rollercoaster the past 30-some years. But the ups have always and I hope will always outweigh the downs. I don't know of anyone with a bigger heart than yours. Or anyone more caring. Or anyone who drives me insane sometimes. But I still wouldn't trade you. Unless it was for like a mansion on an island somewhere....Is there a mansion on an island somewhere? :-p HAPPY BIRTHDAY! I LOVE YOU!
Teenager: Pa! I love you so much. Thank you for taking me in and treating me like your own daughter. Even though I joke about you and your hookahs but I love you like a father and can't imagine how my life would've turned out if you hadn't taken me in. I think it's disgusting when my horny ass friends hit on you but I'm moving out soon so that's neither here nor there. Anyways, have a Happy Birthday and I miss you!
Mom: To my son on his 31 (Lord your aunts and uncles are old) birthday. When I first held you in my arms, I was so overwhelmed. I ordered one and got two but it was the best surprise of my life. You were unexpected from the start and have continued to be just that everyday since. Nothing surprises me anymore when it comes to you. I worry sometimes but I also know you will always figure it out in the end. My dreams for you aren't always the same as your own, but I have learned that's okay. I've watched you grow and become far more than I ever could have imagined when I first held you in my arms. You were such an entertaining and talkative baby and child. So imaginative and caring. I'm thankful that you are still all of those things. But you're also sweet and funny and beautiful and a wonderful father. You have made being a parent life's greatest reward. I love you very much and I am incredibly proud of what a good man you've become. Happy Birthday son.
Happy Birthday To Me?
Friend: Details shmetails
Me: lol I thought you wrote: 'details shemales'. Which is also good
Friend: LOL Apparently
Me: lol I'm gonna use that now.
Me: The phrase, not the shemales
Friend: LOL Once again, thank you for clarifying
==========
(Some background: This whole convo took place on Facebook and she was simultaneously posting a video on my wall with birthday wishes and a video of Stewie from Family Guy. And 'bumping cans' is an inside joke.)
Her: For you maybe
Her: I however, am an emotionally complex creature
Me: *rolls eyes*
Me: An hour ago we were bumping cans
Her: An hour ago, you were young in New York
Her: Things change
Me: Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh SNAP!
Me: Ouch.
Me: You cunt me deep
Me: You cut me real deep
Her: LMAO!!!!
Me: LOL. CUT!!!
Her: I feel so honored...to have witnessed that
Me: That was just awesome
Her: lol It was
Her: I love the crayon scribbles in his journal
Me: Whose journal?
Her: Stewies' journal
Me: lol I was talking about the cunt incident
Me: But yeah, the video was good too
Her: LOL
Her: it is hard
Her: for me
Her: to follow
Her: along
Me: I was confused about you referring to cunt as a he and highly impressed that it could write in a journal
Her: LOL I'm sure if you had a cunt, it'd be talented
Me: lol Damn sippy it would
Me: SKIPPY*
Me: This is all going on my blog
Her: LOL oh I hope it does
==========
(Another friend posted to my wall and I replied but it didn't quite come out the way I planned. Then the friend from the last convo chimed in with her two cents.)
Him: Happy Birthday bro!
Me: Thank you! Tell your mom thanks.
Me: LOL. That came out wrong. I meant tell her thank you for the message. Wow.
Her: Oh. My. God. You're on a roll...
Her: I can't begin to tell you how awesome this new year is turning out to be!
And my birthday hasn't even officially started yet. Aren't I a lucky birthday boy.
Friday, April 20, 2012
The Beat(s) That My Heart Skipped
My niece S. turns 13 today. And while it is not my first experience with a teenager (nor will it be my last), it is different. I didn't meet my own teenager until she was about five and, even then, we weren't really close until she was 12 or so. But I was there when S. was born. Hell, I was there for the nine months before she was born. I remember when my sister told us she was pregnant. It was my girlfriend, my sister and me and I knew something was up with her but had no clue what. She said she was pregnant, our jaws dropped and I don't think any of us said another word for an hour. Talk about stunned silences. But eventually we settled in and nine months later there was a little person in our lives. We were all kids still ourselves, 19 and 20, and hadn't really been around babies. We're from a big family but we're all close in age so it's not like we were used to having little people around all the time. I wasn't even really sure how to hold a baby until the nurse at the hospital showed me. And I fell in love on the spot. Of course, after the initial euphoria and new car smell of having a baby wore off, it was like, 'what now?'. Babies be high maintenance and a little boring sometimes. So there was a few months where we weren't sure what the hell came next. But we were all so in love with her that it didn't matter that she didn't really do any party tricks. You do the best you can.
S. was 3 when her godmother, my girlfriend, unexpectedly exited all of our lives. They adored each other and I'd always felt like she was too young to remember much about her. But I guess I was wrong because today we got into a pretty detailed discussion about the person we lost. My niece and I were at lunch and I had a bit of a flashback to her birth. Except instead of having no idea how to hold a baby, I now had no idea what to talk to a 13-year-old about. I still can't quite believe she's that old (or that I'm as damn old as I'm gonna be). I'm not a great conversationalist anyway so we had many hurdles to climb during lunch. But she kinda took the reigns and blurted out that she wanted to know if I'd take her to the cemetery to visit her godmother's resting place. (Remember that stunned silence we fell into when we discovered this girl was on the way? Yeah, it made a guest appearance today.) She said my sister doesn't talk about that subject and she's never sure if I'm open to talking about it so she's kinda kept all her feelings on it inside. So I took her out there and we did talk about it for awhile. (I know exactly how she feels cuz no one talks to me about it either.)
I think I've written before that I missed the girlfriend's funeral because I was enduring my own medical crisis. But I've never felt bad about it. I flat out refused to go to the cemetery for months afterward. I told myself I didn't need to go, that I didn't want to remember her that way. About a year later, I had a meltdown and ended up with her. I took a notebook and a pen and I sat there and I wrote to her, which I'd always done but it was like that particular channel had become blocked until I was sitting next to her that night. It helped me a lot, but I still didn't return to her for some time. And when I did, I decided not to take anything to write with. We just talked. I never understood people who went to cemeteries to talk to their loved ones before that trip. Since then I've continued to write and talk to her when I need to. It's been a big step in the whole healing process. Another big step has been mending fences with her mom, who despised me for a long time before the accident, and for awhile afterward. We're in that acquaintance stage where we talk every now and then but nothing really in depth. But she texted me today and asked if we could talk before I leave. I haven't responded yet. I'm conflicted about what to do. I don't know how she's handling the anniversary. We could be on completely different pages. I don't know what to do.
I'm not sure how the actual ten year anniversary will hit me in a week's time. The only thing I know is it will hit me and it will most likely hurt. It's so hard to comprehend that it's been a decade. But that's next week's problem. Today was about how awesome my niece is growing up to be. Yes, she's a teenager now but I can forgive her that as long as she keeps thinking I'm cooler than her parents (cuz, newsflash, I am and always will be. Why? Because I'm younger than both of them. Ha. Ha.) She's into poetry and photography and history. Her godmother would be SO proud of who she's turning out to be. And I'm definitely very proud. I can't even fathom that mine is gonna be the same age in less than a decade. It's also hard to wrap my head around my niece being three years away from driving and five years away from being 18. Wow, I'm old.
*sigh*...I'm exhausted. And my legs and back are killing me and have been for three days now. No idea what that's about. But I haven't been able to sleep much. I get some rest but it's not that deep, restful sleep. It's more that sleep where you feel in a daze and wake up a bunch of times during the night. Last night I woke up for a minute when I got a text and reached for my phone to check it. I read the text, started to text back, passed out and woke up this morning with my phone in my hand. Yeah. I just have so much crap on my brain right now. I don't even know how to articulate it all. Which is why I just lie awake at night thinking. In fact, I'm off to do that now...
S. was 3 when her godmother, my girlfriend, unexpectedly exited all of our lives. They adored each other and I'd always felt like she was too young to remember much about her. But I guess I was wrong because today we got into a pretty detailed discussion about the person we lost. My niece and I were at lunch and I had a bit of a flashback to her birth. Except instead of having no idea how to hold a baby, I now had no idea what to talk to a 13-year-old about. I still can't quite believe she's that old (or that I'm as damn old as I'm gonna be). I'm not a great conversationalist anyway so we had many hurdles to climb during lunch. But she kinda took the reigns and blurted out that she wanted to know if I'd take her to the cemetery to visit her godmother's resting place. (Remember that stunned silence we fell into when we discovered this girl was on the way? Yeah, it made a guest appearance today.) She said my sister doesn't talk about that subject and she's never sure if I'm open to talking about it so she's kinda kept all her feelings on it inside. So I took her out there and we did talk about it for awhile. (I know exactly how she feels cuz no one talks to me about it either.)
I think I've written before that I missed the girlfriend's funeral because I was enduring my own medical crisis. But I've never felt bad about it. I flat out refused to go to the cemetery for months afterward. I told myself I didn't need to go, that I didn't want to remember her that way. About a year later, I had a meltdown and ended up with her. I took a notebook and a pen and I sat there and I wrote to her, which I'd always done but it was like that particular channel had become blocked until I was sitting next to her that night. It helped me a lot, but I still didn't return to her for some time. And when I did, I decided not to take anything to write with. We just talked. I never understood people who went to cemeteries to talk to their loved ones before that trip. Since then I've continued to write and talk to her when I need to. It's been a big step in the whole healing process. Another big step has been mending fences with her mom, who despised me for a long time before the accident, and for awhile afterward. We're in that acquaintance stage where we talk every now and then but nothing really in depth. But she texted me today and asked if we could talk before I leave. I haven't responded yet. I'm conflicted about what to do. I don't know how she's handling the anniversary. We could be on completely different pages. I don't know what to do.
I'm not sure how the actual ten year anniversary will hit me in a week's time. The only thing I know is it will hit me and it will most likely hurt. It's so hard to comprehend that it's been a decade. But that's next week's problem. Today was about how awesome my niece is growing up to be. Yes, she's a teenager now but I can forgive her that as long as she keeps thinking I'm cooler than her parents (cuz, newsflash, I am and always will be. Why? Because I'm younger than both of them. Ha. Ha.) She's into poetry and photography and history. Her godmother would be SO proud of who she's turning out to be. And I'm definitely very proud. I can't even fathom that mine is gonna be the same age in less than a decade. It's also hard to wrap my head around my niece being three years away from driving and five years away from being 18. Wow, I'm old.
*sigh*...I'm exhausted. And my legs and back are killing me and have been for three days now. No idea what that's about. But I haven't been able to sleep much. I get some rest but it's not that deep, restful sleep. It's more that sleep where you feel in a daze and wake up a bunch of times during the night. Last night I woke up for a minute when I got a text and reached for my phone to check it. I read the text, started to text back, passed out and woke up this morning with my phone in my hand. Yeah. I just have so much crap on my brain right now. I don't even know how to articulate it all. Which is why I just lie awake at night thinking. In fact, I'm off to do that now...
Thursday, April 19, 2012
Ballin'
Today I had my first ride on a private jet. It was...meh. The takeoff was rough and I was sure I was gonna die. (Even better? Two small children on the plane looked at me like I was retarded for freaking out about turbulence.) Upside? I had wifi so I was able to keep in touch with my peeps on the ground. Some of the convos I had:
(He had texted me before the flight wondering out loud if the premise of 'Final Destination' would work on a smaller plane).
Me: Dude, takeoff was ridic! I thought I was gonna die.
G: Is there a black guy on the plane?
Me: ? Why?
G: Um because you know the minorities always die first in scary movies. Which would not bode well for you. Unless there's a black guy on the plane.
G: Duh.
Me: ...What would that matter if we're all gonna die anyway?
Me: And btw, everyone on the plane except me and a kid are black.
G: Score! That means you'd be the last one to die! And that's reserved for the white man. So you would be moving on up! lol
Me: LOL. I get to die last! My white mother will be so proud.
G: LMAO. Well you always want your kids to have better, they say.
(We were talking about the latest thing we've invented for our made up company and how we were going to use the jet in our promos for it. And about how there was no alky on the plane.)
W: What the hell kinda promo is this gonna be, if the main man steps off the G6, and he ain't got no pimp cup? The world we live in mang...*shakes head*
Me: Well I can have the cup. Just no liquor in it.
W: But...then that's not going to be true to our reality
Me: lol. Because we big pimpin' EVERYDAY.
Me: Me unemployed and you working in holy land.
W: LOL
W: Foodstamps on a money clip...that's how we roll.
W: The plastic in our wallets is an EBT card
(He had texted me before the flight wondering out loud if the premise of 'Final Destination' would work on a smaller plane).
Me: Dude, takeoff was ridic! I thought I was gonna die.
G: Is there a black guy on the plane?
Me: ? Why?
G: Um because you know the minorities always die first in scary movies. Which would not bode well for you. Unless there's a black guy on the plane.
G: Duh.
Me: ...What would that matter if we're all gonna die anyway?
Me: And btw, everyone on the plane except me and a kid are black.
G: Score! That means you'd be the last one to die! And that's reserved for the white man. So you would be moving on up! lol
Me: LOL. I get to die last! My white mother will be so proud.
G: LMAO. Well you always want your kids to have better, they say.
(We were talking about the latest thing we've invented for our made up company and how we were going to use the jet in our promos for it. And about how there was no alky on the plane.)
W: What the hell kinda promo is this gonna be, if the main man steps off the G6, and he ain't got no pimp cup? The world we live in mang...*shakes head*
Me: Well I can have the cup. Just no liquor in it.
W: But...then that's not going to be true to our reality
Me: lol. Because we big pimpin' EVERYDAY.
Me: Me unemployed and you working in holy land.
W: LOL
W: Foodstamps on a money clip...that's how we roll.
W: The plastic in our wallets is an EBT card
Wednesday, April 18, 2012
Lord, Now Lettest Thou Thy Servant Depart In Peace, According To Thy Word (Luke 2:29)
My last 48 hours have alternated between good and terrible. But mostly terrible. My great grandfather, my idol for as long as I can remember, passed away a few days ago. We all knew it was coming; on Monday we each got that early morning phone call that you know from the first ring is not good news. He's been in a home down in Texas ever since grandma died five years ago and I think the move down there was the worst thing for him. He had family down there but they were all elderly and not very active and I know the people who were taking care of him (the other side of the family we no longer talk to) weren't stimulating his mind. If he'd stayed back home, at least he would've had kids and family who genuinely loved him around. Anyway, he's always said that when the time came for him to go, he would go out as he chose. And he did. Over the weekend, he decided to stop eating and drinking and his organs failed as a result. He passed away late Monday night. Interestingly enough, we all seemed to react more to hearing he was dying than to his actual death (so far). Probably because we all knew the other phone call was coming. Our family has never done this kind of death before. Sudden, traumatic losses are our kinda thing. Maybe having the time to reflect on his life and our time with him helped us and made us realize that we wanted him to stay here for selfish reasons. He lived a good, long life and got to be a part of five generations of family. But somehow it didn't seem enough. For us, anyway. He most likely saw that he'd gotten to do a lot more than he ever thought he would and felt blessed about it and decided he was ready to go. Can't fault him for that at all. I know he's had a rough go of it since he lost the love of his life five years ago.
I intended to include all kinds of memories about my gramps in this post but can't seem to think of many. I'm sure it's just because I'm tired. But I do remember playing board games with him as a kid, in the tiny nook in the back of their house. I remember him teaching me how to build stuff and lay down concrete and shovel snow without killing myself on the ice (not that it's helped since I'm so accident-prone). I remember listening to his stories about being a young cook in Texas and stories about what my mom, aunts and uncles were like as kids (an armful). I remember the candles and Rosary he and grandma kept in their bedroom, the candles always burning. I remember riding in his old truck and listening to music from the 30's and 40's and being so bored. But so happy to be around him. He was one of those people you just wanna be around all the time and learn from. And I will miss that immensely. I miss him a lot already and I'm sure that feeling will continue. He was, by far, one of the best men I've ever known. But hopefully he and grandma are reunited and having a blast wherever they are.
R.I.P. Gramps.✝
I intended to include all kinds of memories about my gramps in this post but can't seem to think of many. I'm sure it's just because I'm tired. But I do remember playing board games with him as a kid, in the tiny nook in the back of their house. I remember him teaching me how to build stuff and lay down concrete and shovel snow without killing myself on the ice (not that it's helped since I'm so accident-prone). I remember listening to his stories about being a young cook in Texas and stories about what my mom, aunts and uncles were like as kids (an armful). I remember the candles and Rosary he and grandma kept in their bedroom, the candles always burning. I remember riding in his old truck and listening to music from the 30's and 40's and being so bored. But so happy to be around him. He was one of those people you just wanna be around all the time and learn from. And I will miss that immensely. I miss him a lot already and I'm sure that feeling will continue. He was, by far, one of the best men I've ever known. But hopefully he and grandma are reunited and having a blast wherever they are.
R.I.P. Gramps.✝
Friday, April 13, 2012
Hold Me Up In Mighty Waters, Keep My Eyes On Things Above
"Some jump, some fall, each dotting the water's surface like the period at the end of a sentence. Then, the stern slips under the water, plunging everyone into a coldness so intense it is indistinguishable from fire. Ten minutes. Twenty minutes. The inchoate wail of fifteen hundred souls slowly fades to individual cries from the darkness. Seven hundred survivors stand by in lifeboats built for twelve hundred, afraid to act for fear of getting swamped. They tell themselves that the voices from the water do not belong to their husbands or their loved ones. They are merely the cries of the damned..." - "Titanic" Original Screenplay
I have been borderline obsessed with the story of the R.M.S. Titanic since I was eight years old. I'm not sure what it is that's always drawn me to it (it's been suggested many times over the years that maybe I was involved with it somehow in a past life), but I just can't get enough when it comes to learning about the ship and the disaster that made it even more famous. When I was a kid, I had a friend who was similarly (and also inexplicably) obsessed with all things Titanic and we immediately bonded. We had to do some writing project one semester and we both chose to write about Titanic but our teacher said we couldn't both choose the same topic. We almost went to blows over this project and who would get to write about the ship. I lost the battle and was forced to write about another ship (I chose the Californian), but I was allowed to base my story on the Titanic disaster. I was 16 when James Cameron's "Titanic" was released into movie theaters. I had been, 'meh' about everything I'd heard about it while it was in production, mostly because the 1958 film, "A Night To Remember" (based on the fantastic book by Walter Lord) was so good that I wasn't sure any other movie could live up to it. And I also was not sure about throwing fictional characters onto the ship or how the actual people who were on it would be portrayed. I saw it the first week it was out and it's the only time in my life I've ever been silent during a movie, from beginning to end. I didn't know it until I actually saw the film and read some stuff about it afterward, but Mr. Cameron himself is a Titanic buff and did his homework and then some. The casting of historical figures of the time was so spot on. The scenes of the sinking were incredibly accurate for what we knew at the time. I even liked the fictional Romeo and Juliet-esque plot because it humanized the tragedy. It wasn't just about a big boat that sank and people died and it became an icon. It was about the people on board the ship and their lives and the tragic fate that 1,500 of them met.
The 100th anniversary of the sinking has brought more specials (and pretty damn good ones) and facts, quite a few that I had not heard until now. A century after it sank and some twenty years after I became interested in the subject, I love that I am still able to learn new things. Lately I find myself fascinated by the stories of the people. I know the ship; I've seen every picture and painting and read every description. I know all about the sinking and even about the iceberg that brought about its demise. But I think it's easy to get wrapped up in the grandeur of the ship and the tragedy of the sinking and forget all about the people who were actually a part of it all. Fifteen hundred perished, seven hundred survived but sadly very few of those survivors were ever really able to live because their ordeal followed them the rest of their lives. Some couldn't live down the stigma of being branded cowards for having gotten to lifeboats while other women and children died. Others felt tremendous guilt for having survived and, although no one knew it at the time, were likely suffering from PTSD (how could you not after that). In fact, one man who survived had nightmares for years afterward and his hair went from brown to white in the span of a month after the sinking, and he was only 40.
Something I didn't know until recently is that there was an interracial family on the ship. A man named Joseph Phillippe Lemercier Laroche, his wife Juliette and their two daughters were second class passengers. Joseph was black and the nephew of the president of Haiti and had an engineering degree but was denied work because of his skin color. Juliette was white and pregnant with the couple's third child, a son. After the ship struck the iceberg, Joseph loaded his wife and girls into a lifeboat and went down with the ship. Later that year, Juliette had the couple's son and named him after his father. Another story that struck me was about the men who worked in the belly of the ship, stoking the boilers so the ship could sail smoothly. None of these men survived, and I'm sure they had to know that they wouldn't, but they kept working and kept the power on in the ship so people could find their way above decks and try to get to safety. Nearly every eyewitness said the lights on the ship continued to stay on until just moments before the ship went under. Who knows what would've happened if there'd been no power and people were stumbling around in the dark? The death toll could've been much worse.
I think James Cameron put it best in his National Geographic special this month when he said that one of the reasons Titanic grabbed so much attention is because it symbolized the end of an era. Up until that point it had been all about progress and technology and people were seeing and experiencing things that they had not only never seen or experienced before, but that they likely never thought they'd see in their lifetime. The problem (then, much as it is now) is they became incredibly dependent on that technology and when the Titanic, the epitome of new technology, sank it showed that they were human after all. It was a number of factors that led to the sinking but technology definitely played its part, along with arrogance. To dub anything 'unsinkable' is to almost dare the powers that be to do their damnedest to destroy what you've created. I think that ship was doomed from the second it was given that description. Unfortunately, 1,514 people were the victims of the White Star Line and, ultimately Bruce Ismay's, arrogance (and btw, he got exactly what he deserved in the aftermath of the disaster. He NEVER should have survived, but that's another post.).
As with any disaster, there were inquiries and lawsuits (filed to the tune of about 22 million dollars in the U.S. alone) and men in suits trying to find out who was at fault. But very few of the survivors who chose to testify before the British and American inquiry boards were taken seriously (who's the big nerd who actually read the findings and notes from the inquiries? That would be me.), and this continued for years. One survivor, 12 at the time of the sinking and an elderly woman when she testified at yet another inquiry in the 70's, spoke about how she saw the ship break apart before finally going under the water. She told a very detailed and very believable story, only to have some suit stand up after her and make it clear that what she'd just testified to was her "opinion" and that the board did not believe the ship broke up at all. This was similar to what had been said at the original inquiries, with several survivors saying it had split in the center and then sank. However, a senior officer from the ship testified that it did not break up and so that board decided that his testimony held more weight than that of the other survivors. The official inquiry incorrectly states that the Titanic sunk in one piece. It wasn't until 1985, when Robert Ballard discovered the wreck, that the debate was finally settled that it did indeed break apart, just as the witnesses had always claimed.
Unfortunately, Bob Ballard's discovery of the wreck opened up a whole new can of worms. It renewed interest in the disaster and with that came grave robbers. The technology to get to the depth where the wreck lies was relatively new and limited to only a few people at that time, but eventually it became much more accessible. There were a ton of expeditions to recover artifacts which are now on display in several sites all over the world. (None of which would be possible if Ballard had claimed the wreck site as his own. Had he taken a single thing from the site at the time of discovery, it would legally be his property and no one could venture down there without his permission. He didn't do this because he didn't want to disturb the resting place of those who perished but in hindsight I'm sure he wishes he had taken something. What's worse? Removing one thing to protect the entire site or watching as money hungry folk bring up hundreds of items and sell them?) Whether the people taking things and taking trips to the wreck want to admit it or not, they are messing with the resting place of a number of souls. But there is legislation working its way through congress to stop the scavenging and it could go into effect by the end of this year.
So, 100 years after the fact, what has anyone learned from the sinking of the Titanic? There were a lot of changes in the immediate aftermath of the sinking and there has not been a disaster at sea of that magnitude since Titanic. There was an ice patrol (that still exists to this day) set up to keep an eye out for icebergs in the Atlantic and there has not been an incident of the same scale with an iceberg since 1912. Every ship now has to have enough lifeboats and life jackets for every single passenger on board and crews have to practice disaster-preparedness often. Another major change, and something that could've saved a lot more people had it been in effect in 1912, was that wireless operators had to be at their stations twenty-four seven. At the time of the sinking, the Californian was the closest ship to the Titanic. The Californian was stopped for the night because of unusually high amounts of ice in the area, something their wireless operator had tried to warn the Titanic about. But Jack Phillips, the wireless operator for the Titanic, was busy sending out messages for passengers and brushed off the attempts to relay the ice warning. The wireless operator for the Californian finally gave up on sending out the warnings after getting a stern response from Phillips and went to bed, leaving the wireless unmanned. It's believed the Californian could've gotten to Titanic before it sank had they been able to hear their distress call. It's one more thing that could have changed the outcome for the better, one more just miss that likely resulted in the loss of more lives.
Of course, there have been countless books and movies about what happened, fiction and non-fiction. There will no doubt be countless more, although it'll be interesting to see how much interest there is after this year. The wreck will probably be gone sooner than later as it's rapidly disintegrating, something not helped by the many submersibles that visit the site for one reason or another. One of the specials I watched posed an interesting question, asking what you would do if you were on the ship. Knowing what you know now; that there was another liner two miles away and that there was no saving the Titanic, what decisions would you make? Taking into account the fact that the ship has already hit the iceberg and pierced five of its watertight compartments, that fifth one (thought to have only been about two feet wide) being the death blow, how would you try to survive or, if you're Captain Smith, how would you try to save your passengers? I'm not sure there's much you could do, short of fully loading the lifeboats. If you do that, you save at least 1200 people easy. Any other idea someone comes up with would probably involve technology more advanced than what was available back then. But it's interesting to think about. Titanic fascinates and will continue to fascinate people because in a way it is the ultimate failure of technology, and in a time when the technology was far less advanced than it is now. It was a combination of human and technological error and arrogance that sent it to the bottom of the ocean. It's a cautionary tale. That even the grandest inventions can be taken down by the simplest things.
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| A drawing done after the sinking. (Click any image to enlarge) |
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| Picture taken of the survivors from rescue ship Carpathia. |
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| The Laroche family. |
I think James Cameron put it best in his National Geographic special this month when he said that one of the reasons Titanic grabbed so much attention is because it symbolized the end of an era. Up until that point it had been all about progress and technology and people were seeing and experiencing things that they had not only never seen or experienced before, but that they likely never thought they'd see in their lifetime. The problem (then, much as it is now) is they became incredibly dependent on that technology and when the Titanic, the epitome of new technology, sank it showed that they were human after all. It was a number of factors that led to the sinking but technology definitely played its part, along with arrogance. To dub anything 'unsinkable' is to almost dare the powers that be to do their damnedest to destroy what you've created. I think that ship was doomed from the second it was given that description. Unfortunately, 1,514 people were the victims of the White Star Line and, ultimately Bruce Ismay's, arrogance (and btw, he got exactly what he deserved in the aftermath of the disaster. He NEVER should have survived, but that's another post.).
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| Sketches by a survivor made hours after his rescue. |
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| 2010 Pic of the wreck site. |
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| Plates on the sea floor. |
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| Series of wireless communications between Titanic and Californian and Californian and Carpathia after the sinking. |
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| Poster for the 1958 movie. |
(The only actual footage of the ship believed to exist.)
Tuesday, April 10, 2012
Things And The Artistically Challenged Folk Who Draw Them
'Draw My Thing' on Facebook may be one of the greatest things to ever happen to my friends and I. Any free thirty seconds at anytime of day or night and we're shooting off invites to each other. But it's not just about the drawing (especially since most of us suck at that part). It's about the conversations something as suggestive as, 'Draw My Thing' produces. The other day a friend of mine and I were playing a round (or 20) and early on she had to draw spinach. So she drew an open can of spinach and started to write Popeye before I guessed what it was. Fifteen (or 30) rounds later, she got the same word and began to draw the same picture as before and I guessed it before she could even draw the spinach part. This is the exchange that followed:
Me: You shoulda drawn something different.
Her: I can't think of anything else for spinach.
Me: I know what your cans look like lol.
Her: LOL. Damn straight you know my cans.
Me: Your cans are magnificent though.
Her: I'm literally biting my lip just so I won't bust out laughing.
(She was in a library at the time.)
And just like that, you have an instant inside joke that can be whipped out at any time. It really is magnificent. I think it actually is an asset to not be able to draw because you never know what's gonna happen next. The other day my sister got the word divorce (seriously? How the hell do you draw that?) and drew a car with windows bashed in and a diamond ring in the front seat. Another friend simply wrote, 'Where you will not go' and I correctly guessed that the word was heaven. I think I like guessing better than I like drawing at this point. A sample of some of my "art":
Me: You shoulda drawn something different.
Her: I can't think of anything else for spinach.
Me: I know what your cans look like lol.
Her: LOL. Damn straight you know my cans.
Me: Your cans are magnificent though.
Her: I'm literally biting my lip just so I won't bust out laughing.
(She was in a library at the time.)
And just like that, you have an instant inside joke that can be whipped out at any time. It really is magnificent. I think it actually is an asset to not be able to draw because you never know what's gonna happen next. The other day my sister got the word divorce (seriously? How the hell do you draw that?) and drew a car with windows bashed in and a diamond ring in the front seat. Another friend simply wrote, 'Where you will not go' and I correctly guessed that the word was heaven. I think I like guessing better than I like drawing at this point. A sample of some of my "art":
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| A pretzel |
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| A record |
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| Popcorn |
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| My version of 'divorce' |
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| A friend drew this (cross eyed). I had no clue what it was and guessed 'hungry eyes' before following up my guess with, 'I feel the magic between you and I'. |
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| I was trying to draw 'left' but my friend was not understanding it at all. FINALLY they got it and then proceeded to type, 'LEFT MUTHAFUCKIN' LEEEEFFFFFTTTT!!!' into the chat box to illustrate how frantic I was about them guessing this. Later, my mom explained that I could've just drawn a right arrow and a left one and circled the left one. |
Monday, April 9, 2012
You Are The Star That Shines And Explodes With Light And I Love And Embrace All That I Can
Today I became the parent of a four-year-old. FOUR. Even I can't believe it. Girl is the absolute love of my life and I cannot imagine life without her. That said, I am having a bit of a crisis. Until now, I've been the parent of a toddler. Now, she's a big girl, an actual kid and not a toddler anymore. I pointed this out to my mom, who felt the need to tell me to suck it up because she had two four-year-olds AND a three-year-old to deal with at one point (and of course that's my fault since I wasn't supposed to be there to begin with). My sister explained to me that most people with a four-year-old either have younger kids or older kids that take away the sting of the kid aging up. And that's a good point. I only have one kid, so everything is magnified in a way. My sister has three and when the oldest (who will be 13(!) in two weeks) turned 4, the next one was on the verge of celebrating his first birthday. I don't have another kid to take the spotlight off my girl, so every milestone is amplified because who knows if I'll have anymore. But I would not trade sharing in any of those milestones for the world. And I'm certainly not going to stop writing to (and about) my favorite little person in the universe.
People say you don't really understand love until you become a parent. I would kind of agree with that. But I kinda disagree too. I think you can absolutely know what love is before you have kids and you can experience love, obviously. But it's just a different kind of love when you become a parent. The only time you can actually experience love at first sight (in my opinion) is when you first lay eyes on your child. You don't know who this little person is or who they will become but you love them so much that you'd die for them. And suddenly you're responsible for this little being and they need you to do literally everything for them. Until they don't anymore, because they get older and more independent. Instead of being a superhero that they think can do anything in the world, you're a big dork who is way more excited about building a fort than someone your age should be. But that's okay, circle of life and all that biz. Next year she'll be in school and she'll need me even less than she does now. But the upside is that as she gets older, we'll be able to experience more things together. I can't wait to take her to sporting events and have her actually be engaged in them (rather than going because of the ice cream and then passing out in a diabetic coma mid-way through), if that's something she wants to do. I very much look forward to spending days at museums and talking about what we see, (she already attempts to do this). All good things.
I remember spending summers back home with the fam and having these seemingly never ending BBQ's and hearing them talk about how fast kids grow up. Being that I was one of the kids at the time, I didn't pay much attention to what they meant. In fact, I remember thinking that they must be joking because to me it seemed like it was taking forever for me to age up. But now I get what they meant. It does go by way too fast. You think that those 18 years seem like such a long time, but they fly by. So I guess the key is to just enjoy them as much as you can. Because they will grow and change and become who they're meant to become. You hold on to the little moments and you hope you do enough in those 18 years that, by the time they leave you, they're more than ready for what's ahead. But, of course, you don't stop being a parent just because they leave the nest. Having a kid does in fact change everything. But I wouldn't have it any other way. (Even when I trip over a misplaced toy in the middle of the night while trying to get to the bathroom. Like last night.)
So, Miss N, what do I want to say to you on your fourth birthday? So much. You are a little ball of energy. You have a remarkable ability to sense when something is not right, (although this does not always stop you from doing it). You love Legos (hey, who doesn't?) and animals and putting everything you own in your little backpack. You're growing increasingly resistant to wearing dresses, even on holidays. You have begun to realize that when my cellphone beeps or vibrates, it takes my attention off of you and you don't like that at all. At the same time, you don't seem to mind sharing me if you approve of the person or people we're with.
You are no longer obsessed with monkeys but are newly obsessed with Buzz Lightyear and think it's hysterical when I call him 'Buzz Lightbeer'. You're the best thing to ever happen to me. And I can't wait to see where you and I go from here. I love you VERY, VERY much. Happy Birthday kiddo!!
People say you don't really understand love until you become a parent. I would kind of agree with that. But I kinda disagree too. I think you can absolutely know what love is before you have kids and you can experience love, obviously. But it's just a different kind of love when you become a parent. The only time you can actually experience love at first sight (in my opinion) is when you first lay eyes on your child. You don't know who this little person is or who they will become but you love them so much that you'd die for them. And suddenly you're responsible for this little being and they need you to do literally everything for them. Until they don't anymore, because they get older and more independent. Instead of being a superhero that they think can do anything in the world, you're a big dork who is way more excited about building a fort than someone your age should be. But that's okay, circle of life and all that biz. Next year she'll be in school and she'll need me even less than she does now. But the upside is that as she gets older, we'll be able to experience more things together. I can't wait to take her to sporting events and have her actually be engaged in them (rather than going because of the ice cream and then passing out in a diabetic coma mid-way through), if that's something she wants to do. I very much look forward to spending days at museums and talking about what we see, (she already attempts to do this). All good things.
I remember spending summers back home with the fam and having these seemingly never ending BBQ's and hearing them talk about how fast kids grow up. Being that I was one of the kids at the time, I didn't pay much attention to what they meant. In fact, I remember thinking that they must be joking because to me it seemed like it was taking forever for me to age up. But now I get what they meant. It does go by way too fast. You think that those 18 years seem like such a long time, but they fly by. So I guess the key is to just enjoy them as much as you can. Because they will grow and change and become who they're meant to become. You hold on to the little moments and you hope you do enough in those 18 years that, by the time they leave you, they're more than ready for what's ahead. But, of course, you don't stop being a parent just because they leave the nest. Having a kid does in fact change everything. But I wouldn't have it any other way. (Even when I trip over a misplaced toy in the middle of the night while trying to get to the bathroom. Like last night.)
So, Miss N, what do I want to say to you on your fourth birthday? So much. You are a little ball of energy. You have a remarkable ability to sense when something is not right, (although this does not always stop you from doing it). You love Legos (hey, who doesn't?) and animals and putting everything you own in your little backpack. You're growing increasingly resistant to wearing dresses, even on holidays. You have begun to realize that when my cellphone beeps or vibrates, it takes my attention off of you and you don't like that at all. At the same time, you don't seem to mind sharing me if you approve of the person or people we're with.
You are no longer obsessed with monkeys but are newly obsessed with Buzz Lightyear and think it's hysterical when I call him 'Buzz Lightbeer'. You're the best thing to ever happen to me. And I can't wait to see where you and I go from here. I love you VERY, VERY much. Happy Birthday kiddo!!
Saturday, April 7, 2012
Flirting With Disaster
My cousin is on the verge of making a terrible decision. I don't like to judge what other people do but this one is so obviously wrong that I can't help but think about it. I've written about him before; he dated this chick for like seven years, they went on and off for the final year and he finally broke it off because (he said) he was tired of waiting for her to be ready for marriage and kids. Dude was on the verge of proposing when he heard from a friend of hers that she was not going to say yes, so he killed those plans. That started a convo about what they each wanted and he was ready for a family and she wasn't so they split. She got engaged to some guy she'd known five minutes after they broke up and, as far as we know, they're still together but no longer engaged. My aunt thinks the impulse engagement was more for show than anything else, like, 'oh look I really am ready for marriage and kids, don't you want me back'. But he didn't take the bait. He says he feels like she's years away from wanting the things he does but she didn't want to tell him that. So he decided to fly solo and he's been depressed ever since. Until the past few months, that is.
Around Christmas, the cousin suddenly perked up a bit but wouldn't say what the reason was. We all assumed he was either hooking up with someone or dating someone new. Then he got all down again the past few months, only to get back on the happy train in March. He finally explained to me today that he started hanging out with his high school girlfriend again around the holidays, but they broke off...whatever it was for awhile. But they decided to have coffee a few weeks ago, and went to a movie together last weekend. Sounds like they're dating, right? Yeah. The one kink in their otherwise genius plan is that she's married. He swears they're not going on dates, just "friendly outings" but they certainly sound like dates. I don't think anyone's asked him aout what's really going on though. I want to believe they're not anywhere near having an affair but...I don't know. They have a lot of history between them. They dated through most of high school but broke up when she went off to college and he began dating someone else. Then he met his last girlfriend and they went on their magical mystery ride, which included one break-up that got especially nasty. They weren't officially broken up but they weren't speaking and she went out with a group of friends that included some dude from her past and made sure the pictures were online. In retaliation (they were young and immature), my cousin went out with HS girlfriend and told EVERYONE about it. He knew how jealous his girlfriend was of this particular ex and when she tore into him about how it hurt her, he swore to cut off all contact with the ex. And he did. (Btw, I thought it was ridiculous that she forced him to do so since I knew for a fact they were just friends). And now they're "friendly" again...*sigh*. Wait and watch I guess.
On another note, I feel like I am finally getting over the Plague. But every day seems to have brought a new symptom. Today's was random choking (not coughing) fits that were so bad I almost got sick a couple times. But I finally got some Gatorade today to help with the dehydration and I'm starting to feel better. Still tired as hell, but that's also the anemia. Hopefully this is the end of this damn virus and I'll be all better soon. I say hopefully because three days ago I thought I was on the mend but then couldn't get off my couch the next three days. So...yeah. Here's hoping...
Around Christmas, the cousin suddenly perked up a bit but wouldn't say what the reason was. We all assumed he was either hooking up with someone or dating someone new. Then he got all down again the past few months, only to get back on the happy train in March. He finally explained to me today that he started hanging out with his high school girlfriend again around the holidays, but they broke off...whatever it was for awhile. But they decided to have coffee a few weeks ago, and went to a movie together last weekend. Sounds like they're dating, right? Yeah. The one kink in their otherwise genius plan is that she's married. He swears they're not going on dates, just "friendly outings" but they certainly sound like dates. I don't think anyone's asked him aout what's really going on though. I want to believe they're not anywhere near having an affair but...I don't know. They have a lot of history between them. They dated through most of high school but broke up when she went off to college and he began dating someone else. Then he met his last girlfriend and they went on their magical mystery ride, which included one break-up that got especially nasty. They weren't officially broken up but they weren't speaking and she went out with a group of friends that included some dude from her past and made sure the pictures were online. In retaliation (they were young and immature), my cousin went out with HS girlfriend and told EVERYONE about it. He knew how jealous his girlfriend was of this particular ex and when she tore into him about how it hurt her, he swore to cut off all contact with the ex. And he did. (Btw, I thought it was ridiculous that she forced him to do so since I knew for a fact they were just friends). And now they're "friendly" again...*sigh*. Wait and watch I guess.
On another note, I feel like I am finally getting over the Plague. But every day seems to have brought a new symptom. Today's was random choking (not coughing) fits that were so bad I almost got sick a couple times. But I finally got some Gatorade today to help with the dehydration and I'm starting to feel better. Still tired as hell, but that's also the anemia. Hopefully this is the end of this damn virus and I'll be all better soon. I say hopefully because three days ago I thought I was on the mend but then couldn't get off my couch the next three days. So...yeah. Here's hoping...
Wednesday, April 4, 2012
A Man Of Means By No Means
I'm a lucky dude. I say that in spite of the fact that the past 24 hours of my life have sucked. Can't talk to people I want to talk to, have no other outlet for those feelings and emotions, so I've internalized. And, as usual, the only purpose it's served is to possibly destroy me. Fortunately, one of my cousins has made it his mission to get my life in order. No, seriously. He's my oldest male cousin (which is not saying much, there aren't many of us) and he divides his time between New York and Boston, his wife's hometown. We weren't necessarily thick as thieves as kids but we're more alike than not as adults. He's more like a big brother to me. And I look up to him for so many reasons. Maybe the biggest because he's just a good man and I'd like to grow up to be one of those someday. He's been married for nearly ten years (although married in secret until a few years ago), and I actually introduced him, albeit inadvertently, to his wife. They're awesome and our families have grown very close over the past decade. And tonight, dude is my savior.
My last post touched briefly on the decisions I'm on the verge of having to make. The biggest one, by far, is about where I'm gonna live. I haven't had a steady job in a month and I've been unable to take freelance job because I've either been sick with the anemia or this virus. Before I stopped getting work, I had already calculated I was in trouble. My savings had been allowing me to work freelance and figure out if I liked it enough to try and give it a full-time go. And I did. The problem has been my health woes. My immune system is weakened because of the steroids and so I get sick a lot easier than I ever have before and the illnesses are more severe than they would be if I didn't have the anemia. And it's still not under control and there's no guarantee that this next course of treatment will be the answer. I can't take on projects when I can't fulfill my end of the bargain and work a set number of hours. I already had to agree to let my ex pay for our daughter's pre-school tuition, and accept help for my ever-increasing medical bills, both of which depressed me a bit more. But now it's beyond that. And when money is an issue, everything is an issue. The only reason I've been able to keep on the way I have for the last six months is because I don't have to pay rent. However, raising a toddler in the big city quickly accounts for that cash. And so, here we are.
Last night, I did some figuring and, depending on some decisions I make, I have (maybe) two months left at my current lifestyle. That means by the middle of June, I would have to decide to move for good or move for the summer and probably early fall. Obviously I'm having trouble coming to terms with this myself, forget about telling other people what's going on. But my cousin has been in the know the whole way, for a number of reasons, and has informed me I need to slow my anemic roll. His suggestion? Chill out, take today to figure out some moves and maybe getaway for a few days (though not necessarily right this second) to clear my head. And it's very good advice. I was supposed to go away next week for an early birthday trip but that's not happening because of my illness. I had a back-up plan of maybe trying to go home for a few days but that's out now too. So the only consolation trip would be somewhere close. Maybe D.C. or Boston. I don't know yet.
My daughter's birthday is Monday and her mother and I still have no clue what we're doing, we've both been dealing with way too much stress the last few weeks. Her mom is possibly on the verge of unemployment herself and, even more likely, divorce. She says if one (or both) of those things happen, she might be on board for some kind of summer-long getaway herself. That's not to say we'd go to the same place, but we'd be nearby so we could both see our girl. I don't know how that works yet though. There's still too many options to figure out. My mom is spending her summer (and fall) in Texas with my brother, so i could go to her house, and my ex has family (including her mom) in Colorado. But neither of us are crazy about that because it wouldn't be good for job stuff. I could also go to Texas, but that's a bit far. There's California. But I'd rather do...well, anything else but live there again (L.A. anyway). My cousin in D.C. thinks it'd be awesome if we came down there. The ex could stay in NY and we could still switch off. But it's an election year and I don't even like paying attention to those in general, let alone while living in the epicenter of the madness. So far, (and it's early) my favorite destination is Boston. Yes, Boston. The one place I swore to Zod I would NEVER live after the Red Sox spanked my beloved Rockies in the 2007 World Series. My cousin and his Mrs. have a house with all kinds of room, AND the ex could still stay in NY and we could switch off. Again, still early. But I guess I feel better about this then I did.
Medically, I have come to the conclusion I will never feel better. Well, at least not anytime soon. Today was supposed to get the ball rolling on my transfusion, but since I'm still battling this virus that's a no go. Oh, and last night as I was sitting on the couch having a coughing fit, I felt something snap in my back. I have been informed by a licensed medical professional that I did indeed pull a muscle on the inside of my rib cage. And yes, it is as painful to cough when you have a pulled muscle on the inside of your rib cage. Or move. Actually, moving isn't too bad right now but the coughing fits really take it out of me. I've had to use my inhaler after the last couple. Doc said it'll be about six weeks for the ribs to heal and in the meantime I shouldn't pick up anything heavy (ie. a toddler) or do anything to aggravate the injury. But it shouldn't affect my transfusion, which can get underway once I'm completely rid of this virus. The irony: The ribs will be healed just in time for me to move boxes. Yeah...never a dull moment, ya'll.
Two more things: My next few posts (if they ever make it here) may be completely infested with Titanic facts and stories. Not the movie, the actual disaster. It's 100 years next week since she sank and I've been obsessed with the subject for the past 22 years. If you don't wanna bask in the awesomeness of my knowledge and obsession (most people don't), then don't read.
Also, the video posted below gave me the best laugh of my day. Stages 2 and 4 are just hysterical. Enjoy.
My last post touched briefly on the decisions I'm on the verge of having to make. The biggest one, by far, is about where I'm gonna live. I haven't had a steady job in a month and I've been unable to take freelance job because I've either been sick with the anemia or this virus. Before I stopped getting work, I had already calculated I was in trouble. My savings had been allowing me to work freelance and figure out if I liked it enough to try and give it a full-time go. And I did. The problem has been my health woes. My immune system is weakened because of the steroids and so I get sick a lot easier than I ever have before and the illnesses are more severe than they would be if I didn't have the anemia. And it's still not under control and there's no guarantee that this next course of treatment will be the answer. I can't take on projects when I can't fulfill my end of the bargain and work a set number of hours. I already had to agree to let my ex pay for our daughter's pre-school tuition, and accept help for my ever-increasing medical bills, both of which depressed me a bit more. But now it's beyond that. And when money is an issue, everything is an issue. The only reason I've been able to keep on the way I have for the last six months is because I don't have to pay rent. However, raising a toddler in the big city quickly accounts for that cash. And so, here we are.
Last night, I did some figuring and, depending on some decisions I make, I have (maybe) two months left at my current lifestyle. That means by the middle of June, I would have to decide to move for good or move for the summer and probably early fall. Obviously I'm having trouble coming to terms with this myself, forget about telling other people what's going on. But my cousin has been in the know the whole way, for a number of reasons, and has informed me I need to slow my anemic roll. His suggestion? Chill out, take today to figure out some moves and maybe getaway for a few days (though not necessarily right this second) to clear my head. And it's very good advice. I was supposed to go away next week for an early birthday trip but that's not happening because of my illness. I had a back-up plan of maybe trying to go home for a few days but that's out now too. So the only consolation trip would be somewhere close. Maybe D.C. or Boston. I don't know yet.
My daughter's birthday is Monday and her mother and I still have no clue what we're doing, we've both been dealing with way too much stress the last few weeks. Her mom is possibly on the verge of unemployment herself and, even more likely, divorce. She says if one (or both) of those things happen, she might be on board for some kind of summer-long getaway herself. That's not to say we'd go to the same place, but we'd be nearby so we could both see our girl. I don't know how that works yet though. There's still too many options to figure out. My mom is spending her summer (and fall) in Texas with my brother, so i could go to her house, and my ex has family (including her mom) in Colorado. But neither of us are crazy about that because it wouldn't be good for job stuff. I could also go to Texas, but that's a bit far. There's California. But I'd rather do...well, anything else but live there again (L.A. anyway). My cousin in D.C. thinks it'd be awesome if we came down there. The ex could stay in NY and we could still switch off. But it's an election year and I don't even like paying attention to those in general, let alone while living in the epicenter of the madness. So far, (and it's early) my favorite destination is Boston. Yes, Boston. The one place I swore to Zod I would NEVER live after the Red Sox spanked my beloved Rockies in the 2007 World Series. My cousin and his Mrs. have a house with all kinds of room, AND the ex could still stay in NY and we could switch off. Again, still early. But I guess I feel better about this then I did.
Medically, I have come to the conclusion I will never feel better. Well, at least not anytime soon. Today was supposed to get the ball rolling on my transfusion, but since I'm still battling this virus that's a no go. Oh, and last night as I was sitting on the couch having a coughing fit, I felt something snap in my back. I have been informed by a licensed medical professional that I did indeed pull a muscle on the inside of my rib cage. And yes, it is as painful to cough when you have a pulled muscle on the inside of your rib cage. Or move. Actually, moving isn't too bad right now but the coughing fits really take it out of me. I've had to use my inhaler after the last couple. Doc said it'll be about six weeks for the ribs to heal and in the meantime I shouldn't pick up anything heavy (ie. a toddler) or do anything to aggravate the injury. But it shouldn't affect my transfusion, which can get underway once I'm completely rid of this virus. The irony: The ribs will be healed just in time for me to move boxes. Yeah...never a dull moment, ya'll.
Two more things: My next few posts (if they ever make it here) may be completely infested with Titanic facts and stories. Not the movie, the actual disaster. It's 100 years next week since she sank and I've been obsessed with the subject for the past 22 years. If you don't wanna bask in the awesomeness of my knowledge and obsession (most people don't), then don't read.
Also, the video posted below gave me the best laugh of my day. Stages 2 and 4 are just hysterical. Enjoy.
Sunday, April 1, 2012
Reports Of My Demise Have Been...Pretty Right On, Actually
I'm sick. Probably a virus but I've decided it's Plague. My mom told me today that a friend of hers had the same thing and it lasted TWO WEEKS. TWO! Although, I'm closer to the end than the beginning if this is all part of the same virus that made me feel sick last weekend. But this phase I'm currently in sucks. My throat is on fire, my head is stuffy and the only time everything doesn't hurt is when I sleep. But I rarely sleep through the night lately, so that provides little relief. So...yeah. I slept on and off yesterday and took a nap today. I feel myself fighting to get better but it's taking longer than I'd like. With my luck, I'll get well just as it's time to go in for treatment.
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