Something people seem to compliment you the most on.
Easy. Calf muscles. I have witnessed muscular, body-builder-type people in the gym checking out their own calf muscles in the mirror, then looking jealously at mine. Once a customer said (as I was walking away from him), "DANG! Where'd you buy those calf muscles?"
What can I say...I was always a big guy*. I needed the muscles to hold me up and get me around.
*Surprisingly, people can confuse being overweight with being "built", or above average in the strength department. When I was at my heaviest, I was at a show and some guy started hitting on Kimberly. When I politely informed the man that she was my wife, he backed up, threw his hands up, and apologized, saying there was no way he wanted to get on my bad side. Also, my brother-in-law (who was at one point a larger man like myself, but who has also dropped a noticeable amount of weight) and I were setting up for a day at the beach when someone approached us asking us about our workout regimen and how much we bench.
Friday, October 29, 2010
Thursday, October 28, 2010
Just the Ten of Us
Someone you need to let go, or wish you didn't know.
Okay, some of you may not like this, but I can only think of one person: Conan O'Brien.
(note, I realize that today's and yesterday's prompts were likely meant to be answered with more personal relationships, but to be honest, I pretty much have all my friends where I want them)
Liking Conan O'Brien has seemed like the cool thing to do over the past number of years. I just never got into him. I never got the appeal. I mean, he's funny, sure. That's his job, though. David Letterman and Jay Leno are both funny, too...just in different ways. To be honest, there isn't really any late night tv host that I think is downright, can't-miss hilarious (Stewart and Colbert included). I can think of about ten other things I'd like to watch over any of those shows.
Conan's humor* has always seemed immature and easy-to-write. I could be wrong. Admittedly, I haven't seen a whole lot of his show. What I have seen, though, just really didn't do it for me. Of course, most of America (or at least the hip, trendy portion) will disagree with me. I will agree that he got jobbed by NBC. I don't think the man should be yanked off the airwaves. There are people that like him, and if he wants to give them what they want, I say let it happen. I'm just not one of those people.
I'm just a little tired of hearing how hilarious he is, despite already having formed my contrary opinion of the guy. Again, not that I think he's not funny. I just don't think he's the savior of modern comedy that everyone else seems to think he is.
*I am referring to his talk show. I did think he was good as an award-show host. I also follow him on Twitter. About 60% of his tweets are funny in my opinion.
Okay, some of you may not like this, but I can only think of one person: Conan O'Brien.
(note, I realize that today's and yesterday's prompts were likely meant to be answered with more personal relationships, but to be honest, I pretty much have all my friends where I want them)
Liking Conan O'Brien has seemed like the cool thing to do over the past number of years. I just never got into him. I never got the appeal. I mean, he's funny, sure. That's his job, though. David Letterman and Jay Leno are both funny, too...just in different ways. To be honest, there isn't really any late night tv host that I think is downright, can't-miss hilarious (Stewart and Colbert included). I can think of about ten other things I'd like to watch over any of those shows.
Conan's humor* has always seemed immature and easy-to-write. I could be wrong. Admittedly, I haven't seen a whole lot of his show. What I have seen, though, just really didn't do it for me. Of course, most of America (or at least the hip, trendy portion) will disagree with me. I will agree that he got jobbed by NBC. I don't think the man should be yanked off the airwaves. There are people that like him, and if he wants to give them what they want, I say let it happen. I'm just not one of those people.
I'm just a little tired of hearing how hilarious he is, despite already having formed my contrary opinion of the guy. Again, not that I think he's not funny. I just don't think he's the savior of modern comedy that everyone else seems to think he is.
*I am referring to his talk show. I did think he was good as an award-show host. I also follow him on Twitter. About 60% of his tweets are funny in my opinion.
Love Potion Number Nine
Someone you didn't want to let go, but just drifted...
I knew this guy...well, I didn't know him. I knew of him. Regardless, I liked him. I respected him. I wanted to be like him. I entertained the thought (this was long before I was actually going to have a kid) of eventually naming my kid after him, based on my admiration for what he did and how he did it. He just seemed like a really cool dude (actually, he still does). He is Lenny Kravitz.
I (like most of you, I'm sure) was first introduced to Kravitz in the early- to mid-90's with "Are You Gonna Go My Way". It was a pretty good song. He looked amazingly cool playing his Flying-V guitar in the circular room with people dancing all around and all the way up the balconies while he shook his dreadlocks about1.
Over the next few years, of course, he released more singles. Some were smooth, slow jams. Some still had the upbeat rock and roll element. I was also introduced to music that he made before the aforementioned break-out hit. It was all good, too. Somewhere along the way, it came to my attention that while Kravitz has a band he tours with, he records all (or at least most) of the instruments on the albums himself. The guitars, bass, drums, pianos, lead and backup vocals....all him.
I admired the crap out of that. It made me appreciate Kravitz more than the casual fan, I think. That was always something I have always wanted to do. I could easily handle the instrument-playing part of it. I just wasn't good at the song-writing aspect.
As the years rolled by, I bought a few of his albums here and there, and over time I slowly started to lose the appreciation. Everything I heard was slightly less impressive than the previous effort. The last album I bought was Baptism. There was not one song on that album that tickled my fancy. I think that last album was what sealed the deal. It was the final nail in the coffin. We had drifted apart, Lenny and me, and at that point that I realized it was over between the two of us. As a result, I still feel slightly disappointed - even when I hear one of his songs that I like - just because I know it will never be the same.
I wish him the best. He still seems over-the-top cool as a person. As a songwriter and a musician, though, we're just in different places2. Maybe we can still be friends.
1 The red suede vest with tails that flowed all the way to his feet, along with the platform high-heeled boots, I could have done without. I do, however, understand that while those things sound silly (and looked silly), it did fit the image that the video portrayed - a band whose coolness is stuck between "hippie" and "rock star". It didn't fit the (flannel shirt, ripped jeans, messy hair, "I-care-so-much-about-making-it-look-like-I-don't-care-what-I-look-like) style of the era, but still it seemed completely natural at the time. That was one thing Lenny Kravitz was (and still is) always good at doing...dressing to look cool, despite not dressing like anyone else.
2 His place being rich and famous and my place being in a sign shop.
I knew this guy...well, I didn't know him. I knew of him. Regardless, I liked him. I respected him. I wanted to be like him. I entertained the thought (this was long before I was actually going to have a kid) of eventually naming my kid after him, based on my admiration for what he did and how he did it. He just seemed like a really cool dude (actually, he still does). He is Lenny Kravitz.
I (like most of you, I'm sure) was first introduced to Kravitz in the early- to mid-90's with "Are You Gonna Go My Way". It was a pretty good song. He looked amazingly cool playing his Flying-V guitar in the circular room with people dancing all around and all the way up the balconies while he shook his dreadlocks about1.
Over the next few years, of course, he released more singles. Some were smooth, slow jams. Some still had the upbeat rock and roll element. I was also introduced to music that he made before the aforementioned break-out hit. It was all good, too. Somewhere along the way, it came to my attention that while Kravitz has a band he tours with, he records all (or at least most) of the instruments on the albums himself. The guitars, bass, drums, pianos, lead and backup vocals....all him.
I admired the crap out of that. It made me appreciate Kravitz more than the casual fan, I think. That was always something I have always wanted to do. I could easily handle the instrument-playing part of it. I just wasn't good at the song-writing aspect.
As the years rolled by, I bought a few of his albums here and there, and over time I slowly started to lose the appreciation. Everything I heard was slightly less impressive than the previous effort. The last album I bought was Baptism. There was not one song on that album that tickled my fancy. I think that last album was what sealed the deal. It was the final nail in the coffin. We had drifted apart, Lenny and me, and at that point that I realized it was over between the two of us. As a result, I still feel slightly disappointed - even when I hear one of his songs that I like - just because I know it will never be the same.
I wish him the best. He still seems over-the-top cool as a person. As a songwriter and a musician, though, we're just in different places2. Maybe we can still be friends.
1 The red suede vest with tails that flowed all the way to his feet, along with the platform high-heeled boots, I could have done without. I do, however, understand that while those things sound silly (and looked silly), it did fit the image that the video portrayed - a band whose coolness is stuck between "hippie" and "rock star". It didn't fit the (flannel shirt, ripped jeans, messy hair, "I-care-so-much-about-making-it-look-like-I-don't-care-what-I-look-like) style of the era, but still it seemed completely natural at the time. That was one thing Lenny Kravitz was (and still is) always good at doing...dressing to look cool, despite not dressing like anyone else.
2 His place being rich and famous and my place being in a sign shop.
Tuesday, October 26, 2010
Eight Is Enough
Someone who made your life hell, or treated you like [crap]
Um, I don't know if I really have an answer for this one. There really wasn't anyone who habitually treated me poorly. Sure, there have been some crappy things done to me over my life, but they were really isolated incidents.
Okay, I have one. I have told this story a number of times, so if you've already heard it, my apologies. I was in high school (in Tennessee). I had a crush on this girl named Nadalie (which is almost an anagram for Daniel, thus leading me to believe fate may be on my side). It was a pretty big crush. The problem though, was that this wasn't a girl I admired from afar. We actually became somewhat close friends...at least in the school setting. We never hung out any outside of school, but we had a number of classes together and were very friendly with each other.
One day, after school, I brought her into the art classroom to show her something I had made earlier in the day. On our way out of the room, she left first, then one of the students in the room said "Hey, Daniel...is that your girlfriend?". Playing it cool, I flippantly responded "I wish!". I didn't really mean much by it. I mean, I did wish that, but I would have never acted on it.
Well, either she heard me say it, or word got around to her that I had said it*. A few weeks later, close to the end of the school year. I walked into a classroom halfway through a story she was telling. In this story, a crazy ex-boyfriend had showed up at the school because he heard she was dating someone new. He wanted to know who this person was, and that this person would have hell to pay. He was not afraid of getting in trouble - or even arrested - for what he did, because his dad was a cop and could get him out of any trouble he may find himself in. Did I mention he was crazy?
Well, like all the other people crowded around the table, I listened to Nadalie's sad story. I listened to her talk about how she sometimes fears for not only her safety, but the safety of the people she hangs out with. Nothing changed in our relationship much after that through the end of the school year. She signed my yearbook with the classic "K.I.T." with her phone number.
I fretted over that number many times over the course of that summer. Should I call her? What would I say? We had never hung out before, so it would be weird to ask her if she wanted to, and I wasn't really in a place (of confidence) to actually ask her out on a date. One day, I was at a friend's house and we were discussing all the potential possibilities of calling (or choosing not to cal) her. For some reason, my friend was obviously on the side of encouraging me not to call her. I really couldn't figure out why. Finally, he relented. "Daniel, do you remember hearing Nadalie tell a story about a crazy, jealous ex-boyfriend?" "Yeah", I replied. "Well, she made that story up, because she heard you liked her, and she wanted to scare you away".
Despite going to that school for another full year before moving to Georgia, I never talked to Nadalie again. Part of me was embarrassed, but the other part of me was kind of pissed off. I had asked girls out before. Some had said yes, and others had said no. It was no big deal. Granted, had she said no, it likely would have ended our friendship anyway (as was the case with other girls that had turned me down in the past...it would have just been weird to continue being friends with them...at least when I was 15). It's a funny story to tell now, but at the time, I just thought it was a really cruel thing to do. Actually, I still think it was a cruel thing to do, but I got over it.
*She may have heard that I said that, OR it could have been that I think she saw one of my doodles that had her initials in the middle of a heart. I understand that this is likely the biggest part of the story, yet I chose to leave it out of the actual telling of the story. I could understand her being a little weirded out at the sight of her initials in a heart on a friend's piece of scrap notebook paper, but seriously, I was harmless. I was a quiet, shy 15-year-old who was still scared to death of girls, despite having mustered up the courage to ask a few of them out at that point. The reason I left it out of the story is simple...it never occurred to me that the doodle could have been what threw her off until just recently. For some reason, I never put those clues together at the time. What could I say, I overlooked the basic facts because I was smitten.
Um, I don't know if I really have an answer for this one. There really wasn't anyone who habitually treated me poorly. Sure, there have been some crappy things done to me over my life, but they were really isolated incidents.
Okay, I have one. I have told this story a number of times, so if you've already heard it, my apologies. I was in high school (in Tennessee). I had a crush on this girl named Nadalie (which is almost an anagram for Daniel, thus leading me to believe fate may be on my side). It was a pretty big crush. The problem though, was that this wasn't a girl I admired from afar. We actually became somewhat close friends...at least in the school setting. We never hung out any outside of school, but we had a number of classes together and were very friendly with each other.
One day, after school, I brought her into the art classroom to show her something I had made earlier in the day. On our way out of the room, she left first, then one of the students in the room said "Hey, Daniel...is that your girlfriend?". Playing it cool, I flippantly responded "I wish!". I didn't really mean much by it. I mean, I did wish that, but I would have never acted on it.
Well, either she heard me say it, or word got around to her that I had said it*. A few weeks later, close to the end of the school year. I walked into a classroom halfway through a story she was telling. In this story, a crazy ex-boyfriend had showed up at the school because he heard she was dating someone new. He wanted to know who this person was, and that this person would have hell to pay. He was not afraid of getting in trouble - or even arrested - for what he did, because his dad was a cop and could get him out of any trouble he may find himself in. Did I mention he was crazy?
Well, like all the other people crowded around the table, I listened to Nadalie's sad story. I listened to her talk about how she sometimes fears for not only her safety, but the safety of the people she hangs out with. Nothing changed in our relationship much after that through the end of the school year. She signed my yearbook with the classic "K.I.T." with her phone number.
I fretted over that number many times over the course of that summer. Should I call her? What would I say? We had never hung out before, so it would be weird to ask her if she wanted to, and I wasn't really in a place (of confidence) to actually ask her out on a date. One day, I was at a friend's house and we were discussing all the potential possibilities of calling (or choosing not to cal) her. For some reason, my friend was obviously on the side of encouraging me not to call her. I really couldn't figure out why. Finally, he relented. "Daniel, do you remember hearing Nadalie tell a story about a crazy, jealous ex-boyfriend?" "Yeah", I replied. "Well, she made that story up, because she heard you liked her, and she wanted to scare you away".
Despite going to that school for another full year before moving to Georgia, I never talked to Nadalie again. Part of me was embarrassed, but the other part of me was kind of pissed off. I had asked girls out before. Some had said yes, and others had said no. It was no big deal. Granted, had she said no, it likely would have ended our friendship anyway (as was the case with other girls that had turned me down in the past...it would have just been weird to continue being friends with them...at least when I was 15). It's a funny story to tell now, but at the time, I just thought it was a really cruel thing to do. Actually, I still think it was a cruel thing to do, but I got over it.
*She may have heard that I said that, OR it could have been that I think she saw one of my doodles that had her initials in the middle of a heart. I understand that this is likely the biggest part of the story, yet I chose to leave it out of the actual telling of the story. I could understand her being a little weirded out at the sight of her initials in a heart on a friend's piece of scrap notebook paper, but seriously, I was harmless. I was a quiet, shy 15-year-old who was still scared to death of girls, despite having mustered up the courage to ask a few of them out at that point. The reason I left it out of the story is simple...it never occurred to me that the doodle could have been what threw her off until just recently. For some reason, I never put those clues together at the time. What could I say, I overlooked the basic facts because I was smitten.
Seven
Someone who has made your life worth living for.
Okay, is this someone who has made my life worth living for...as in, I would be living my life for that person? Or is this just a poorly worded question that means someone that has made my life worth living? Some of the grammatical errors and questionable language in this list of prompts leads me to believe that it is the latter of the above listed options.
I'll go with that. Someone who has made my life worth living.
Well, to be blunt, my first answer is nobody. I love my wife and kid more than anything. They make me immensely happy. I cannot imagine my life without them. I cannot, however, say that my life would not be worth living without them. Let me explain:
There are two scenarios involved in this question. The first scenario involves having them and losing them. The second involves never having had them in the first place (as in Kimberly and I never met, or we broke up along the way, therefore Cohen doesn't exist).
The first scenario is devastating. Having known and loved my wife and son, if I lost them, it would take some serious searching to find a reason to continue. I know that sounds a little extreme, but it's true. I would hole up in my house (which I would eventually lose, because I would not be able to pay for it from not going to work), and it would take a hell of a lot to get me out and living again.
So, in scenario #1, my wife and kid definitely do make my life worth living.
In scenario #2, I never met Kimberly, or we broke up early in our relationship, therefore Cohen does not exist. Let's say Kimberly dumped me when I was 19 because it didn't appear that I had a real future (which was a real danger back then, if Kimberly's family had their way....oh...that slipped out. Sorry*). For the sake of argument, let's say she married.... oh.... hypothetically... some guy... let's just call him... ummmmmm. B.J.
Kimberly dumped me, and sure I was distraught (I mean, have you seen her?). However, I've been rejected my fair share of times through my life (believe it or not!), and I survived. Years down the line, this would have been another relationship that had potential, but just didn't come to fruition.
Granted, in this scenario, it is impossible to know whether I would have gone out and found someone else (of course, no one would have compared...but I would not know that. I would not have dated Kimberly for even a year in this scenario). I may, however, have ended up 31 years old and single, with no hope for a real relationship. I surely can't afford a house by myself with what I make, so I'd probably be in an apartment with a roommate, still.
So, I guess, looking at it, Scenario #2 makes my life (and I mean the life I have led, as in the path I have chosen, not the literal meaning of the word life) worth living.
Look, all of this is a really big stretch. I can speculate forever on what may or may not have happened if Kimberly and I didn't make it. The reality, though, is that we did. No matter which way I try to look at it, Kimberly (and subsequently Cohen) both have made the life I chose worth it.
So my blunt, first answer was wrong, apparently.
*I say that about Kimberly's family, because at the time it was true. I was 19. I had no real future. I had no plans for college. They weren't crazy about me. I resented that for a while. However, if I look at it from their perspective, I must admit that it definitely made sense. If I had an 18-year-old daughter that was graduating high school and starting college, and she started dating the 19-year-old version of me, I'd be a little wary, too. Of course, it's all good in the hood now...as far as I know.
Okay, is this someone who has made my life worth living for...as in, I would be living my life for that person? Or is this just a poorly worded question that means someone that has made my life worth living? Some of the grammatical errors and questionable language in this list of prompts leads me to believe that it is the latter of the above listed options.
I'll go with that. Someone who has made my life worth living.
Well, to be blunt, my first answer is nobody. I love my wife and kid more than anything. They make me immensely happy. I cannot imagine my life without them. I cannot, however, say that my life would not be worth living without them. Let me explain:
There are two scenarios involved in this question. The first scenario involves having them and losing them. The second involves never having had them in the first place (as in Kimberly and I never met, or we broke up along the way, therefore Cohen doesn't exist).
The first scenario is devastating. Having known and loved my wife and son, if I lost them, it would take some serious searching to find a reason to continue. I know that sounds a little extreme, but it's true. I would hole up in my house (which I would eventually lose, because I would not be able to pay for it from not going to work), and it would take a hell of a lot to get me out and living again.
So, in scenario #1, my wife and kid definitely do make my life worth living.
In scenario #2, I never met Kimberly, or we broke up early in our relationship, therefore Cohen does not exist. Let's say Kimberly dumped me when I was 19 because it didn't appear that I had a real future (which was a real danger back then, if Kimberly's family had their way....oh...that slipped out. Sorry*). For the sake of argument, let's say she married.... oh.... hypothetically... some guy... let's just call him... ummmmmm. B.J.
Kimberly dumped me, and sure I was distraught (I mean, have you seen her?). However, I've been rejected my fair share of times through my life (believe it or not!), and I survived. Years down the line, this would have been another relationship that had potential, but just didn't come to fruition.
Granted, in this scenario, it is impossible to know whether I would have gone out and found someone else (of course, no one would have compared...but I would not know that. I would not have dated Kimberly for even a year in this scenario). I may, however, have ended up 31 years old and single, with no hope for a real relationship. I surely can't afford a house by myself with what I make, so I'd probably be in an apartment with a roommate, still.
So, I guess, looking at it, Scenario #2 makes my life (and I mean the life I have led, as in the path I have chosen, not the literal meaning of the word life) worth living.
Look, all of this is a really big stretch. I can speculate forever on what may or may not have happened if Kimberly and I didn't make it. The reality, though, is that we did. No matter which way I try to look at it, Kimberly (and subsequently Cohen) both have made the life I chose worth it.
So my blunt, first answer was wrong, apparently.
*I say that about Kimberly's family, because at the time it was true. I was 19. I had no real future. I had no plans for college. They weren't crazy about me. I resented that for a while. However, if I look at it from their perspective, I must admit that it definitely made sense. If I had an 18-year-old daughter that was graduating high school and starting college, and she started dating the 19-year-old version of me, I'd be a little wary, too. Of course, it's all good in the hood now...as far as I know.
OKAY FINE! Numero six
I'll do some more. I probably won't do all of them...some of the prompts are stupid or too touchy-feely, but I'll just decide as I go.
Something you hope you never have to do.
The obvious (albeit correct) answer is lose a child (or spouse). This is what my sister said. To that, I totally agree. However, since that has already been adequately discussed, I'll try to go with something else. Still child related, though.
I hope to never have the problems with Cohen that my parents had with me.
As I mentioned in the critically acclaimed Trois, 5th grade was around the time I stopped caring about school and/or grades. It wasn't that it was too hard. It also wasn't that it was too easy. Believe it or not, I was actually a really bright kid. I don't know what my IQ is (or was...I'm not sure if/how it changes over time), but I was in all the "gifted" programs through my early years at school school. A lot of my teachers theorized that I started slacking off because I wasn't being challenged enough. Sadly, that was not the case. It would have made no difference how much I was challenged. I was smart, but I was just lazy.
That's really all there is to it. It may have been that the fact that I was smart contributed to the problem. I knew I was smart. As a result, I thought I could get by on that alone. I aced most of my tests throughout school. I did relatively well on the SAT. I just didn't feel the need to do any homework. I figured that if I could just prove to my teachers that I knew the stuff (via good test scores), then that should be enough*. Unfortunately, that isn't how it works in school. In addition to knowing the material, one also has to actually do the work assigned. This is a concept I never really got a good hold on.
Kimberly was the opposite of me. Well, I take that back. She was gifted as well. Very smart. She was the opposite in the sense that in addition to doing well on the tests, she actually did the work as well. Kimberly studied. She did homework. More than just that, she did her homework without being prompted or forced by her parents to do the homework. She didn't have the same problem as me of coming up with a new lie every day for her parents (e.g: My teacher didn't assign homework today, My teacher gave us time in class to do the work, There was a bomb threat, so we missed 2 hours of class today). She just did the work. It paid off, too. She makes a considerable amount more than I do.
I know my parents would love nothing more than to see me have to deal with Cohen, should he follow the same path that I did. Of course, I know that my parents don't want Cohen to make bad grades in school, thus making it harder for him to find gainful employment when he's an adult. It's just so I can "get what's coming to me". I wouldn't blame my parents one bit if they found delight in my frustration at Cohen's not falling far from the proverbial tree. For everyone else's sake, though, I hope he inherits his mother's work ethic...at least as far as school/homework is concerned. No one should have to go through what my parents went through...not even me!
*I will admit, now that I am 31 years old, that I still believe that statement to be true. I understand that this does not translate to the real world, where "doing" is more important than simply "knowing". However, in grade school, the objective is teaching and learning...not "doing". There's plenty of time to learn how to "do" after all the learning has taken place. I don't know, it makes sense to me.
Something you hope you never have to do.
The obvious (albeit correct) answer is lose a child (or spouse). This is what my sister said. To that, I totally agree. However, since that has already been adequately discussed, I'll try to go with something else. Still child related, though.
I hope to never have the problems with Cohen that my parents had with me.
As I mentioned in the critically acclaimed Trois, 5th grade was around the time I stopped caring about school and/or grades. It wasn't that it was too hard. It also wasn't that it was too easy. Believe it or not, I was actually a really bright kid. I don't know what my IQ is (or was...I'm not sure if/how it changes over time), but I was in all the "gifted" programs through my early years at school school. A lot of my teachers theorized that I started slacking off because I wasn't being challenged enough. Sadly, that was not the case. It would have made no difference how much I was challenged. I was smart, but I was just lazy.
That's really all there is to it. It may have been that the fact that I was smart contributed to the problem. I knew I was smart. As a result, I thought I could get by on that alone. I aced most of my tests throughout school. I did relatively well on the SAT. I just didn't feel the need to do any homework. I figured that if I could just prove to my teachers that I knew the stuff (via good test scores), then that should be enough*. Unfortunately, that isn't how it works in school. In addition to knowing the material, one also has to actually do the work assigned. This is a concept I never really got a good hold on.
Kimberly was the opposite of me. Well, I take that back. She was gifted as well. Very smart. She was the opposite in the sense that in addition to doing well on the tests, she actually did the work as well. Kimberly studied. She did homework. More than just that, she did her homework without being prompted or forced by her parents to do the homework. She didn't have the same problem as me of coming up with a new lie every day for her parents (e.g: My teacher didn't assign homework today, My teacher gave us time in class to do the work, There was a bomb threat, so we missed 2 hours of class today). She just did the work. It paid off, too. She makes a considerable amount more than I do.
I know my parents would love nothing more than to see me have to deal with Cohen, should he follow the same path that I did. Of course, I know that my parents don't want Cohen to make bad grades in school, thus making it harder for him to find gainful employment when he's an adult. It's just so I can "get what's coming to me". I wouldn't blame my parents one bit if they found delight in my frustration at Cohen's not falling far from the proverbial tree. For everyone else's sake, though, I hope he inherits his mother's work ethic...at least as far as school/homework is concerned. No one should have to go through what my parents went through...not even me!
*I will admit, now that I am 31 years old, that I still believe that statement to be true. I understand that this does not translate to the real world, where "doing" is more important than simply "knowing". However, in grade school, the objective is teaching and learning...not "doing". There's plenty of time to learn how to "do" after all the learning has taken place. I don't know, it makes sense to me.
Monday, October 18, 2010
Okay, so maybe it was more like "5 days of truth"
Sorry about that, everybody. Those were all incredibly terrible and even more boring than what I usually put on here.
So instead, I'll just get back to putting either 1) what I think is interesting, or 2) nothing at all, up on this bloggy blogg.
So instead, I'll just get back to putting either 1) what I think is interesting, or 2) nothing at all, up on this bloggy blogg.
Friday, October 15, 2010
Johnny Five Is Alive
Something you hope to do in your life
Something I never did and still hold out a little hope of doing is a short tour with a band. I've been out of town with a couple of my old bands. A couple of them were overnight, but none were more than that. I just want the experience. I'm sure it's probably a lot more boring than I picture it in my mind, but I guess I'll never know until I do it.
There is a (miniscule) chance of this actually happening next year. One of the bands on my friend's label is coming to the states to do a tour (the band is from Israel), and they asked if we'd come out and do a few of the shows with them. Their tour is only 2-3 weeks, and our part would only be maybe 2-3 nights, but nothing is even close to solidified. I'm all for it. Goose says he's all for it. Mike is all for it. That's a 3 out of 3 vote, but I'm giving this about a 2.3 percent chance of actually happening.
That's just how it works with this band...not that I mind. We talk about plans. We talk about feasability. We save vacations days...just in case. Then nothing happens. It doesn't really bother me all that much. I'm just in it for the fun of continuing my bass playing, be it in a club or in my friend's basement. It would be nice to actually see some fruit of this labor, though.
Something I never did and still hold out a little hope of doing is a short tour with a band. I've been out of town with a couple of my old bands. A couple of them were overnight, but none were more than that. I just want the experience. I'm sure it's probably a lot more boring than I picture it in my mind, but I guess I'll never know until I do it.
There is a (miniscule) chance of this actually happening next year. One of the bands on my friend's label is coming to the states to do a tour (the band is from Israel), and they asked if we'd come out and do a few of the shows with them. Their tour is only 2-3 weeks, and our part would only be maybe 2-3 nights, but nothing is even close to solidified. I'm all for it. Goose says he's all for it. Mike is all for it. That's a 3 out of 3 vote, but I'm giving this about a 2.3 percent chance of actually happening.
That's just how it works with this band...not that I mind. We talk about plans. We talk about feasability. We save vacations days...just in case. Then nothing happens. It doesn't really bother me all that much. I'm just in it for the fun of continuing my bass playing, be it in a club or in my friend's basement. It would be nice to actually see some fruit of this labor, though.
Four
Something you have to forgive someone for
I had this friend. This is the only person I have ever actively ended a friendship with. He said a number of things, a lot of which I cannot and will not forgive him for. There was one thing, though, that despite how he came across, I know he had good intentions.
The year Kimberly and I were trying to get pregnant was very trying on our nerves. There were a lot of highs and lows, but it seemed that the lows were much more prominent. Trying not to get too technical, there were two procedures...IUI and In Vitro. We went through three unsuccessful IUI's over the course of 3 or 4 months before finally succeeding with the In Vitro procedure.
The night before we found out the negative results of our third and final IUI, we had friends over for a get-together at our house. This guy was among those friends. The guys has always been known for being very opinionated somewhat obnoxious. Half the people I knew liked him and the other half, not so much. I always liked him...he had a lot of interesting opinions, and I was always down for a good debate, be it political, musical, etc.
This guy had split up with his wife about three months prior. Half the time he was good times and fun to hang around (granted, this was usually over the course of a 12-pack of Budweiser), and the other half he became very serious and lectured about "true friends being there for each other" and how much more he would have helped a friend going through a hard time if roles were reversed. At that time, Kimberly and I differed on our opinions about the guy. I could see her side, but that didn't so much affect my own opinion of him. I still liked the guy.
Anyway, at the end of that night, everyone else had left except for the guy. He, Kimberly, and I all sat out on the deck. We hadn't told him much about our infertility situation...he had his own things he was going through with his wife and what not. This night, however, our situation came up. We talked about what we were going through, how it hadn't worked up until this point. We talked about our frustrations and disappointments. His response was "Well, you guys need to know that if it doesn't work out..." we stopped him right there. "There is no 'if'", we said. It will work out. He said, "oh, I know...but I'm just saying if it doesn...". Again we said "Stop! Don't say that. There is no 'if'. We are being positive. It WILL work."
The night didn't end well. Kimberly had just about enough of the "if-nots". She got in his face and gave him what's for. Twice, actually. He just would not get it through his head that "no" was not an option.
I knew what he was trying to say. He was trying to tell us that regardless of what happened, we had each other, and we should cherish it. Knowing what he had gone through (and was still going through), his thought made sense. At the time, though, we were in a completely different place than he was. We didn't understand what he was going through, but he also didn't understand what we were going through.
For that, I should forgive him (if he wants forgiveness...which I doubt). There were a number of other things he said about me, my wife, my brother, his wife, and other friends in the months to follow. Those things were just mean, and if he has no remorse for them, then I sure as hell don't have any remorse for my ending the friendship.
But, for that one night. It wasn't about something he deliberately did to us. That night, it was about his trying to get a point across without fully grasping our mindset and that we didn't want to hear his point.
I had this friend. This is the only person I have ever actively ended a friendship with. He said a number of things, a lot of which I cannot and will not forgive him for. There was one thing, though, that despite how he came across, I know he had good intentions.
The year Kimberly and I were trying to get pregnant was very trying on our nerves. There were a lot of highs and lows, but it seemed that the lows were much more prominent. Trying not to get too technical, there were two procedures...IUI and In Vitro. We went through three unsuccessful IUI's over the course of 3 or 4 months before finally succeeding with the In Vitro procedure.
The night before we found out the negative results of our third and final IUI, we had friends over for a get-together at our house. This guy was among those friends. The guys has always been known for being very opinionated somewhat obnoxious. Half the people I knew liked him and the other half, not so much. I always liked him...he had a lot of interesting opinions, and I was always down for a good debate, be it political, musical, etc.
This guy had split up with his wife about three months prior. Half the time he was good times and fun to hang around (granted, this was usually over the course of a 12-pack of Budweiser), and the other half he became very serious and lectured about "true friends being there for each other" and how much more he would have helped a friend going through a hard time if roles were reversed. At that time, Kimberly and I differed on our opinions about the guy. I could see her side, but that didn't so much affect my own opinion of him. I still liked the guy.
Anyway, at the end of that night, everyone else had left except for the guy. He, Kimberly, and I all sat out on the deck. We hadn't told him much about our infertility situation...he had his own things he was going through with his wife and what not. This night, however, our situation came up. We talked about what we were going through, how it hadn't worked up until this point. We talked about our frustrations and disappointments. His response was "Well, you guys need to know that if it doesn't work out..." we stopped him right there. "There is no 'if'", we said. It will work out. He said, "oh, I know...but I'm just saying if it doesn...". Again we said "Stop! Don't say that. There is no 'if'. We are being positive. It WILL work."
The night didn't end well. Kimberly had just about enough of the "if-nots". She got in his face and gave him what's for. Twice, actually. He just would not get it through his head that "no" was not an option.
I knew what he was trying to say. He was trying to tell us that regardless of what happened, we had each other, and we should cherish it. Knowing what he had gone through (and was still going through), his thought made sense. At the time, though, we were in a completely different place than he was. We didn't understand what he was going through, but he also didn't understand what we were going through.
For that, I should forgive him (if he wants forgiveness...which I doubt). There were a number of other things he said about me, my wife, my brother, his wife, and other friends in the months to follow. Those things were just mean, and if he has no remorse for them, then I sure as hell don't have any remorse for my ending the friendship.
But, for that one night. It wasn't about something he deliberately did to us. That night, it was about his trying to get a point across without fully grasping our mindset and that we didn't want to hear his point.
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
Trois
Something you have to forgive yourself for
A problem I've had my whole life is doing things in excess. That's why I got as overweight as I did. Conversely, I think that's why I lost a lot of that weight as fast as I did. When I start playing "Angry Birds" on my phone, I get so wrapped up in it that unless I consciously make myself stop, I would play for hours. I suppose you'd call it an "addictive personality". I guess it's a good thing I don't really like to drink, and I've never done drugs. If that were the case, I could put myself in a world of trouble.
WARNING, what comes next is ridiculously corny, and I feel stupid even talking about it, but it's something I have never really forgotten about
Specifically, one thing that comes to mind is my behavior through the 5th and 6th grade. I became friends with two brothers whose names were Ricardos and Decarlos (no joke). One day, we decided to skip a class together. We roamed the halls and found what we thought was the most magical place in the entire school. It appeared to be a room full of confiscated toys. We played in there for a while. We played destructively. There were glass things in the room. We broke them. There were G.I. Joe toys. We took them. After we felt a sufficient amount of time had passed, we walked back up to our rooms and continued our day like nothing had ever happened.
The next day, we did it again during a different class (you know, so our teachers wouldn't be suspicious at our missing two days in a row...'cause we were brilliant). This led to skipping classes more often. Then, because of that excessive behavior I mentioned earlier, I took it a step further. We had been stealing toys out of that room for a while. I then took it upon myself to start my own little crime spree. I started stealing pencils and other random, useless stuff out of teachers' rooms. Once I snuck into the PE teacher's office and stole an entire box of candy bars. This went on from the second half of my 5th grade year through about the first half of 6th grade. I would skip school assemblies and rummage through my classmates' stuff, stealing a coke here and a Trapper Keeper folder there. Once I stole a Salt N Pepa tape, just because it was there, and I could.
For some reason, I never officially got caught. I'll never understand what actually happened, but it was brought to my attention years later that my parents knew about it. Or, at least, they knew about the skipping of classes. I'm sure a teacher called and told them about it. I was never confronted about it though, and for a number of years - I guess always, actually - I was just off the hook for it. My parents had other problems to deal with me about, I guess. Around that time was when I stopped caring about school work or grades (a bad habit that lasted right up until I graduated). I'll never know why, but I never got busted for it.
On top of that, I was mean. I had my friends (we were all losers), and we were rude to the popular kids. There was no real reason...they weren't mean to us. They weren't stuck-up, snobby popular kids. Actually, quite the opposite was true. They were nice. For some reason, though, I was a jerk to most of them.
In general, I was just an all-around gigantic a-hole. I had no justification why this was the case, but I was. It wasn't until high school that I socially balanced myself out. I think that may be a reason why I would classify myself a nice guy now. Maybe it's because I have been a not-so-nice guy before, and I know how stupid those guys are.
Still, to this day, I occasionally think about the way I was back then, and even though it had no lasting negative impact myself (or probably anyone else I came in contact with), I still regret it.
A problem I've had my whole life is doing things in excess. That's why I got as overweight as I did. Conversely, I think that's why I lost a lot of that weight as fast as I did. When I start playing "Angry Birds" on my phone, I get so wrapped up in it that unless I consciously make myself stop, I would play for hours. I suppose you'd call it an "addictive personality". I guess it's a good thing I don't really like to drink, and I've never done drugs. If that were the case, I could put myself in a world of trouble.
WARNING, what comes next is ridiculously corny, and I feel stupid even talking about it, but it's something I have never really forgotten about
Specifically, one thing that comes to mind is my behavior through the 5th and 6th grade. I became friends with two brothers whose names were Ricardos and Decarlos (no joke). One day, we decided to skip a class together. We roamed the halls and found what we thought was the most magical place in the entire school. It appeared to be a room full of confiscated toys. We played in there for a while. We played destructively. There were glass things in the room. We broke them. There were G.I. Joe toys. We took them. After we felt a sufficient amount of time had passed, we walked back up to our rooms and continued our day like nothing had ever happened.
The next day, we did it again during a different class (you know, so our teachers wouldn't be suspicious at our missing two days in a row...'cause we were brilliant). This led to skipping classes more often. Then, because of that excessive behavior I mentioned earlier, I took it a step further. We had been stealing toys out of that room for a while. I then took it upon myself to start my own little crime spree. I started stealing pencils and other random, useless stuff out of teachers' rooms. Once I snuck into the PE teacher's office and stole an entire box of candy bars. This went on from the second half of my 5th grade year through about the first half of 6th grade. I would skip school assemblies and rummage through my classmates' stuff, stealing a coke here and a Trapper Keeper folder there. Once I stole a Salt N Pepa tape, just because it was there, and I could.
For some reason, I never officially got caught. I'll never understand what actually happened, but it was brought to my attention years later that my parents knew about it. Or, at least, they knew about the skipping of classes. I'm sure a teacher called and told them about it. I was never confronted about it though, and for a number of years - I guess always, actually - I was just off the hook for it. My parents had other problems to deal with me about, I guess. Around that time was when I stopped caring about school work or grades (a bad habit that lasted right up until I graduated). I'll never know why, but I never got busted for it.
On top of that, I was mean. I had my friends (we were all losers), and we were rude to the popular kids. There was no real reason...they weren't mean to us. They weren't stuck-up, snobby popular kids. Actually, quite the opposite was true. They were nice. For some reason, though, I was a jerk to most of them.
In general, I was just an all-around gigantic a-hole. I had no justification why this was the case, but I was. It wasn't until high school that I socially balanced myself out. I think that may be a reason why I would classify myself a nice guy now. Maybe it's because I have been a not-so-nice guy before, and I know how stupid those guys are.
Still, to this day, I occasionally think about the way I was back then, and even though it had no lasting negative impact myself (or probably anyone else I came in contact with), I still regret it.
Day number two
Something you love about yourself.
I feel it's only fair - since I listed two things I hate about myself - that I also list two things I love about myself. This should be easy, as I am awesome.
First, I am one of the most laid back, easy-going guys you'll probably ever meet. If there are punches, I roll with them. If there is a flow, I go with it. I seldom complain (in a non-joking manner) about anything. I think that makes me a valuable employee, husband, sibling, and friend. I always find something positive in the midst of negativity, and I can laugh at just about anything. I will try as hard as I can to go out of my way and help anyone who needs it, be it a friend or a stranger. It's all about being nice. I try to make being nice my "thing". If there is a way to make something easier for people around you, there's no good reason not to do so.
Secondly, I (think I) am a good father (so far). Granted, I haven't had to sit and have any life-changing, character-forging talks with my son yet, as he isn't even two years old. I have very little experience thus far in the handing out of discipline. I am involved, though, and that's about all I can do at this point. A lot of generations before me designated that the father's main role in a child's life (outside of financially providing for the child) didn't really get into full swing until the child was older and needed discipline. That's just not the way it is in 2010. I don't mind changing diapers. I don't mind putting up with Cohen's insistance on crawling all over me when I have a plate of food in my lap and I'm trying to eat dinner. I love to play with Cohen. I don't mind embarrassing myself for his pleasure. His laugh makes me forget everything wrong with the world, and when I hear it, I will do everything in my power to hear it again.
Hey, two days in a row, and I haven't missed one yet. I'm on a roll!
I feel it's only fair - since I listed two things I hate about myself - that I also list two things I love about myself. This should be easy, as I am awesome.
First, I am one of the most laid back, easy-going guys you'll probably ever meet. If there are punches, I roll with them. If there is a flow, I go with it. I seldom complain (in a non-joking manner) about anything. I think that makes me a valuable employee, husband, sibling, and friend. I always find something positive in the midst of negativity, and I can laugh at just about anything. I will try as hard as I can to go out of my way and help anyone who needs it, be it a friend or a stranger. It's all about being nice. I try to make being nice my "thing". If there is a way to make something easier for people around you, there's no good reason not to do so.
Secondly, I (think I) am a good father (so far). Granted, I haven't had to sit and have any life-changing, character-forging talks with my son yet, as he isn't even two years old. I have very little experience thus far in the handing out of discipline. I am involved, though, and that's about all I can do at this point. A lot of generations before me designated that the father's main role in a child's life (outside of financially providing for the child) didn't really get into full swing until the child was older and needed discipline. That's just not the way it is in 2010. I don't mind changing diapers. I don't mind putting up with Cohen's insistance on crawling all over me when I have a plate of food in my lap and I'm trying to eat dinner. I love to play with Cohen. I don't mind embarrassing myself for his pleasure. His laugh makes me forget everything wrong with the world, and when I hear it, I will do everything in my power to hear it again.
Hey, two days in a row, and I haven't missed one yet. I'm on a roll!
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
Numero Uno
I noticed my sister started a daily blog series called "30 Days of Truth", which features a different writing prompt every day. I also noticed that I don't be typing much up in here lately, and it's largely because I haven't had much to say. I figure if nothing else, this will jumpstart my thought-relaying, and my blog won't lay dormant for months at a time.
I realize that this sounds like an incredibly girly and silly thing for a 31-year-old man to be doing. Eh...that's fine, though. I can live with it if you can. Today will be number one, and while I'll probably miss a day here or there, I'll do my best to complete all thirty of them in a somewhat timely fashion.
#1 - Something you hate about yourself
Okay...day one, and I'm already going to cheat. The prompt asks for one thing, and I'm listing two.
First, I hate that I can't fully grasp this whole "responsible adult" thing. It's not that I do things that immature people do (stay out all hours of the night, drink obsessively, live with my parents). It's that I don't do the things mature people do. First off, there is a list as long as my arm of things that need to be done around the house. I need to fix our driveway. I need to fix our sliding glass door. I need to trim our bushes. I need to fix the ceiling (that I fell through almost three years ago). What do I do every night when I get home? Help give Cohen his dinner, eat dinner myself, play with Cohen for a little while, then Kimberly and I put him to bed. By this point, it's almost 9:00, and I ain't about to get out the tools and start working on stuff.
But Daniel, you can do this stuff on the weekends, right? Yeah, you'd think...and you'd be right. Problem is, that's where the whole immaturity thing comes in. I'm more interested in watching (insert sporting event here) and enjoying some relax time. That's the part I haven't fully wrapped my head around. Most adults use that time to do housework. Somehow, I always find something else to do.
Secondly, I hate that I can't get my health fully where I want it to be. I have made huge strides in that department over the past 6 months. I have lost 50 pounds. I now have what I would describe as a "healthy lifestyle". You know what I haven't done? Eaten better. Stopped smoking. I complain that my weight, no matter how hard I work, seldom drops into the 230's, and when it does, it's only for a short time before I'm back up between 241 and 243. I complain, but I know good and well that if I ate better...if I didn't have those cookies after dinner...if I just used the one piece of cheese on my sandwich rather than the two (or *gasp* no cheese!)...if I made all these small changes, they would add up and I'd probably see results.
I have tried countless times to quit smoking. I know it's terrible. I know what it can do to me. I know it stinks (literally), and should Cohen ever find out it could (probably would) result in him doing it too when he's older. All of these reasons, however, have not stopped me from doing it. I have no excuse. I have no justification. I just haven't quit yet, and I need to.
I hate those things, and now I feel terrible about myself. I can't wait for tomorrow when I will be told to list what I love about myself.
I realize that this sounds like an incredibly girly and silly thing for a 31-year-old man to be doing. Eh...that's fine, though. I can live with it if you can. Today will be number one, and while I'll probably miss a day here or there, I'll do my best to complete all thirty of them in a somewhat timely fashion.
#1 - Something you hate about yourself
Okay...day one, and I'm already going to cheat. The prompt asks for one thing, and I'm listing two.
First, I hate that I can't fully grasp this whole "responsible adult" thing. It's not that I do things that immature people do (stay out all hours of the night, drink obsessively, live with my parents). It's that I don't do the things mature people do. First off, there is a list as long as my arm of things that need to be done around the house. I need to fix our driveway. I need to fix our sliding glass door. I need to trim our bushes. I need to fix the ceiling (that I fell through almost three years ago). What do I do every night when I get home? Help give Cohen his dinner, eat dinner myself, play with Cohen for a little while, then Kimberly and I put him to bed. By this point, it's almost 9:00, and I ain't about to get out the tools and start working on stuff.
But Daniel, you can do this stuff on the weekends, right? Yeah, you'd think...and you'd be right. Problem is, that's where the whole immaturity thing comes in. I'm more interested in watching (insert sporting event here) and enjoying some relax time. That's the part I haven't fully wrapped my head around. Most adults use that time to do housework. Somehow, I always find something else to do.
Secondly, I hate that I can't get my health fully where I want it to be. I have made huge strides in that department over the past 6 months. I have lost 50 pounds. I now have what I would describe as a "healthy lifestyle". You know what I haven't done? Eaten better. Stopped smoking. I complain that my weight, no matter how hard I work, seldom drops into the 230's, and when it does, it's only for a short time before I'm back up between 241 and 243. I complain, but I know good and well that if I ate better...if I didn't have those cookies after dinner...if I just used the one piece of cheese on my sandwich rather than the two (or *gasp* no cheese!)...if I made all these small changes, they would add up and I'd probably see results.
I have tried countless times to quit smoking. I know it's terrible. I know what it can do to me. I know it stinks (literally), and should Cohen ever find out it could (probably would) result in him doing it too when he's older. All of these reasons, however, have not stopped me from doing it. I have no excuse. I have no justification. I just haven't quit yet, and I need to.
I hate those things, and now I feel terrible about myself. I can't wait for tomorrow when I will be told to list what I love about myself.
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