I have been working feverishly to finish a site dedicated to the memory of my mother, Dianna Yielding. I am happy to report that the initial setup is done. If you would like to check it out, feel free: http://www.diannayielding.com. If you knew my mother, or are a member of the family, feel free to sign up for an account and post any stories about her that you would like.
My flight is boarding shortly, so I have to cut this short.
Have a very Merry Christmas! And to those of you who are offended by that greeting: Bah Humbug!!! :)
Wednesday, December 24, 2008
Wednesday, November 19, 2008
Choices?
For those of you who have been living under a rock for the past month, Prop 8 was on the ballot in California, to add a new phrase to the California constitution: "Only marriage between a man and a woman is valid and recognized in California." It is an egregious act of discrimination which was appallingly allowed to be put to popular vote. In case you don't know already, I am against it.
I have heard many arguments over the past couple of weeks supporting Prop 8. The one most interesting to me is that being gay is a choice, not genetic. I personally believe it is genetic. Our attraction to people has a lot to do with chemistry and biology. Anyone who watches Discovery channel knows this. We also know that people are born all the time with different genetic anomalies. Some people get cancer. Some have conditions that make them age very fast. People are born without limbs, or cleft palates. Why is it so hard to believe that a person can be born with the chemical makeup of a man, but the body parts of a woman?
Now, before you attack me for lumping homosexuality in with what are generally referred to as "birth defects," hear me out. Most gay people will tell you that they grew up confused, because society tells them that they must, MUST behave according to the way they look. They are "trapped" in the wrong body. Their brain is telling them that they really like girls when society says they must like boys. Why is it so hard to imagine that biology got mixed up for them? Homosexuality has been documented in many species of animal, too. It seems that nature just "messes up" from time to time. The great thing about being gay is that it's not a life-threatening malady. As long as society leaves you alone, you can live a normal, happy life.
There was a time when people who were born left-handed were vilified, and schools attempted to force them to use their right hands. It seems silly today, and today we completely accept left-handed people as a matter of course. I look forward to the day when we treat gay people the same way. Until then, however, we must fight for equality for our gay brothers and sisters.
However, all that being said, it's a moot point! It is absolutely silly for a Prop 8 supporter to suggest that gay couples don't deserve the same rights as straight couples, because they made the choice to be gay. Even if this were true, so what if they chose that lifestyle? Isn't that what our country was founded upon? Aren't we supposed to be able to make any choice we want in America, as long as it doesn't harm anyone else? Don't we choose our religion as well? Is it ok to discriminate against Mormons and tell them that we are taking away some of their rights as a Morman? If they want the rights back, all they have to do is choose to be Catholic. Right?
No, gay people do not choose to be gay. But that is beside the point. It is just another argument made in support of discrimination. The fact that this discrimination was allowed to go to a popular vote is abominable. It is amazing to me that we as a people continually make the same mistakes, over and over and over again. We never seem to learn, and grow. Yet again, a minority has to fight for their right to simply be an equal member of society. When will America get off this ridiculous roller coaster? People will claim that we are making in progress in America, and point to our new black President as proof. I say bullshit. We just transferred our prejudice somewhere else. You can't just move your dirty laundry to another pile and expect it to go away. You have to clean it. And that takes effort. People need to choose to be tolerant.
Wait, maybe that's the problem... maybe intolerance is genetic, and I need to learn to accept intolerant people...
Nah.
--
Michael Glass
mglass@gmail.com
follow me on Twitter: http://twitter.com/WebSmith
I have heard many arguments over the past couple of weeks supporting Prop 8. The one most interesting to me is that being gay is a choice, not genetic. I personally believe it is genetic. Our attraction to people has a lot to do with chemistry and biology. Anyone who watches Discovery channel knows this. We also know that people are born all the time with different genetic anomalies. Some people get cancer. Some have conditions that make them age very fast. People are born without limbs, or cleft palates. Why is it so hard to believe that a person can be born with the chemical makeup of a man, but the body parts of a woman?
Now, before you attack me for lumping homosexuality in with what are generally referred to as "birth defects," hear me out. Most gay people will tell you that they grew up confused, because society tells them that they must, MUST behave according to the way they look. They are "trapped" in the wrong body. Their brain is telling them that they really like girls when society says they must like boys. Why is it so hard to imagine that biology got mixed up for them? Homosexuality has been documented in many species of animal, too. It seems that nature just "messes up" from time to time. The great thing about being gay is that it's not a life-threatening malady. As long as society leaves you alone, you can live a normal, happy life.
There was a time when people who were born left-handed were vilified, and schools attempted to force them to use their right hands. It seems silly today, and today we completely accept left-handed people as a matter of course. I look forward to the day when we treat gay people the same way. Until then, however, we must fight for equality for our gay brothers and sisters.
However, all that being said, it's a moot point! It is absolutely silly for a Prop 8 supporter to suggest that gay couples don't deserve the same rights as straight couples, because they made the choice to be gay. Even if this were true, so what if they chose that lifestyle? Isn't that what our country was founded upon? Aren't we supposed to be able to make any choice we want in America, as long as it doesn't harm anyone else? Don't we choose our religion as well? Is it ok to discriminate against Mormons and tell them that we are taking away some of their rights as a Morman? If they want the rights back, all they have to do is choose to be Catholic. Right?
No, gay people do not choose to be gay. But that is beside the point. It is just another argument made in support of discrimination. The fact that this discrimination was allowed to go to a popular vote is abominable. It is amazing to me that we as a people continually make the same mistakes, over and over and over again. We never seem to learn, and grow. Yet again, a minority has to fight for their right to simply be an equal member of society. When will America get off this ridiculous roller coaster? People will claim that we are making in progress in America, and point to our new black President as proof. I say bullshit. We just transferred our prejudice somewhere else. You can't just move your dirty laundry to another pile and expect it to go away. You have to clean it. And that takes effort. People need to choose to be tolerant.
Wait, maybe that's the problem... maybe intolerance is genetic, and I need to learn to accept intolerant people...
Nah.
--
Michael Glass
mglass@gmail.com
follow me on Twitter: http://twitter.com/WebSmith
Friday, November 7, 2008
Shame on you, California
I am reminded recently of a quote from one of my favorite movies, Men in Black…
Edwards: “People are smart. They can handle it.”
Kay: “A person is smart. People are dumb, panicky dangerous animals and you know it. Fifteen hundred years ago everybody knew the Earth was the center of the universe. Five hundred years ago, everybody knew the Earth was flat, and fifteen minutes ago, you knew that humans were alone on this planet. Imagine what you'll know tomorrow.”
I have to agree. People are dumb, panicky and dangerous. They demonstrated this on November 4th.
As most of my family and friends know, I voted for the Libertarian, Bob Barr. The country voted Obama into presidency. Do I think that was stupid? Nope. He says he’s an agent of change, and boy does this country need change! We’ll see what he can do. So what am I talking about? Read on…
In California, voters picked Obama as well, by a better than 3-2 margin. He got a 61% vote! How did this happen? Exit polls show that there was a larger than average turnout of black voters, and that made a very large difference in the results. I don’t know the statistics, but it was covered by several of the stations I watched. What floors me is what this group of people also did.
Another issue on the ballots in California was Proposition 8, a measure that proposed putting a ban on gay marriages in the Constitution. Specifically, it adds these words to the California Constitution: “Only marriage between a man and a woman is valid or recognized in California.”
And it passed!
The exit polls showed that while white people voted No by a small margin, and Latinos and Asians were split, blacks voted Yes on Prop 8 by a large margin. It was this large margin that tipped the scales enough to pass this discriminatory, bigoted, and outrageous Proposition.
So… why am I bringing race up in this topic? Quite simple – this is an issue of discrimination, and the group of people whom you would think would be against such outrageous injustices are the very people who outlawed gay marriage.
Those who support Prop 8 have this to say in their ads (among other things):
- Making gay marriage legal would force schools to teach our children about gay marriage
- Churches will be required to marry gay couples
- Adoption agencies will be required to allow gay couples to adopt children
- Marriage is a sacred institution, for procreation and ensuring the continuation of the species.
The ads are not really about these issues. The ads are meant to scare people, and they did their job. But those points are bullshit. Here’s my take on it – if you agree or disagree, please feel free to leave me a comment.
Making gay marriage legal would force schools to teach our children about gay marriage
This just isn’t true. The pundits for the Proposition like to cite an example where a teacher in Massachusetts (where gay marriage is legal) read a story about two princes to her second grade class. Parents complained and were told that they had no right to know beforehand that this was being taught in the class. This would not happen in California, because there are currently laws in place protecting parents’ rights in the classroom. Proposition 8 does not have anything to do with school teaching.
Churches will be required to marry gay couples
No. Churches are not currently required to marry anyone – they can, and DO, turn couples away all of the time, because of many reasons. That wouldn’t change, and if a certain church did not want to marry a same-sex couple, they wouldn’t have to. The Proposition mentions NOTHING about churches.
Adoption agencies will be required to allow gay couples to adopt children.
What? First of all, denying Proposition 8 would have changed nothing. It would not have added anything to the Constitution, it simply would have been “business as usual.” Are adoption agencies currently required to allow gay couples to adopt? Nothing would change. Second of all… SO WHAT? My brother was raised by my mother and her partner for his entire life. He is a wonderful, well-rounded, and quite masculine individual. He was raised with good moral values, and he is just an all-around awesome guy. Children are raised by gay couples all the time, and they don’t turn out any more messed up than children raised by “traditional” families.
I would think that we should worry about children growing up in families where the parents are abusive, do drugs, drink too much, or getting divorced. Rapists, murderers and child molesters have every right to get married and have children of their own… why are people not protesting this?Single mothers and fathers are celebrated for their ability to raise their children. Why should it be different if there happens to be two women, or two men raising the child? This argument is not about “the children.” It is about gay discrimination, and homophobia.
Marriage is a sacred institution, for procreation and ensuring the continuation of the species
Really? How many marriages end in divorce? How many children are born OUT of wedlock? How many deadbeat dads and moms are there? Don’t tell me marriage is sacred, and that gay marriage is where you are going to draw the line. Are we really on the edge of extinction, where allowing gay people to marry will tip the scales to our doom? Yes, perhaps we should force these gay folks to marry the opposite sex, and raise children in a loveless relationship while they have adulterous sex behind their spouses back. Because marriage is sacred, dammit. Oh… and all of you people who are infertile, either by choice or by nature are out of luck. You’ll need to divorce, and live a life of solitude from now on. Marriage is all about procreation and continuation of the species, not about love, commitment, and partnership.
-----
Hey, I’m not saying I’m perfect, of course. I have sinned enough in my lifetime. But I seriously do not believe that I have any right to tell someone else who they are allowed to love and marry. And in this country of ours, where we pride ourselves on being the “land of the free,” it is appalling to think that we would pass a law that takes away a basic human right.
Just imagine this: Less than 100 years ago, we could have easily passed laws stating “Only marriage between a same-colored man and woman is valid or recognized in [your state].” We recognize that to be wrong now. Why can’t we recognize how wrong it is to discriminate against gay people?
It’s wrong, plain and simple. You Californians who passed this measure should be ashamed of yourselves, and for those of you fighting to repeal it, bless you and good luck!
Tuesday, November 4, 2008
An Ugly Proposition
In my home state of California, they are still tallying the results from voting last night. One of the ballot entries was Proposition 8, a horrible attempt to ban gay marriage in California.
I hope and pray that Prop 8 is not passed. California needs to send a message to the rest of the country – we will not tolerate discrimination in any form!
Monday, October 27, 2008
Cake Wrecks!!!
Kelly and I were walking through the Anderson Kroger (who have been kind enough to give me other blog fodder as well!), and found these wonderful cakes. I say wonderful, because they are wrecktacular!
Of course, I sent them over to our good friends over at Cake Wrecks... I hope they post them! Without further ado, I give you... "Skeleton dancing on what?":
(shudder)
And here is... "I want my mummy...":
Are those fingers??? I am not even going to guess what the white frosting is supposed to be...
If you find wonderful wrecks like these, be sure to send them over to our friends at Cake Wrecks!
UPDATE: Yes! Jen posted my cake wreck on her site today, on Halloween! Not only that, but she posted that it was the "best" (worst?) of today's wrecks... woo hoo!
Check it out!
Of course, I sent them over to our good friends over at Cake Wrecks... I hope they post them! Without further ado, I give you... "Skeleton dancing on what?":
(shudder)
And here is... "I want my mummy...":
Are those fingers??? I am not even going to guess what the white frosting is supposed to be...
If you find wonderful wrecks like these, be sure to send them over to our friends at Cake Wrecks!
UPDATE: Yes! Jen posted my cake wreck on her site today, on Halloween! Not only that, but she posted that it was the "best" (worst?) of today's wrecks... woo hoo!
Check it out!
Thursday, October 9, 2008
Behind the 8-Ball
Wow. What a weird week! Where do I begin?...
I took Kelly to Indianapolis with me, so that she could sit around for hours and watch me play pool in the regional tournament. Hey, why not? I need to feed my ego somehow, and as long as she was willing...
It was a good tournament. I didn't think I was going to get to play 9-ball, because they were pushing back 9-ball matches until March. However, for my handicap level, we got to play. I started with an 8-ball match, which I won. The guy I played was very good, and it was a close match. He wasn't happy with his shooting, but nobody is happy with their shooting when they lose.
As soon as I turned the score sheet in, they immediately put me up for a 9-ball match. This was to be the pattern all day; in 6 hours of pool, I got absolutely no time to rest and recharge. It was an endurance test, and I didn't pass.
As it turns out, I met the same guy in my 9-ball match. He was out for revenge, and he got it -- he beat me by 5 points. It was a great match again, and I thoroughly enjoyed playing him. He was a very good sport.
This went on for 4 more matches, alternating between 8-ball and 9-ball. I survived for 3 matches each. I was tired by the end, but all in all it was a good time. Kelly got to meet many of my friends, and we had fun.
Monday morning, I woke up incredibly dizzy and nauseous. I stayed home, losing a day of pay (I have been working as a consultant). It turns out it might be some sort of inner ear infection, but I will need to wait until I have full medical coverage when I am hired full time at DAV before I can get it checked out. More on that in a moment...
On Thursday, I hit a pothole driving in to work. I slammed it so hard, it blew out my tire. Fortunately, I was pulling off the highway into a parking lot when it happened, so I was able to just pull over to change the tire. Of course, I discovered that the spare (which I never used for 11 years) was not a solid rubber tire, but inflatable--and it was flat! I was a block away from a gas station, though, so I figured I'd be ok until I could get there and put air in the tire. I did so, and fortunately the air held!
I was able to get the tire replaced at Tire Discounters in a matter of minutes later that morning, so all's well in that department. Now, if I can just get the state to fix that pothole... wish me luck; I don't have a lot of confidence in our government at the moment...
Another strange thing happened Thursday... I received a notification that a new person was following me on twitter, by the name of heatherschmid. Great. I have received these before, where some person follows me, expecting me to see who they are, and follow some link to their porn site. I followed her link (hey, it's porn, why not???), and discovered that she is not a pornstar wannabe, but a recording artist. Ok... using twitter to promote herself? That's cool, I guess.
I wondered if she would talk to me... so I followed her back, and sent her a private tweet (go to twitter.com if you'd like to learn what it's about). She responded to me! We had a short conversation, during which I visited her site and listened to her music. I especially liked Molihua, and I LOVED her cover of "It's Been a While." Go to her site -- you can listen to all of her music on the website. She informed me that her music has been nominated for a Grammy as well, so of course now I am going to watch for it...
I am not a fan of spam, and of course I get tired of the "come visit my webcam" requests. However, it was quite refreshing to have an up and coming pop/rock star take the time to talk to me on Twitter one on one. She has gained herself a True Fan.
Update: Today, I found out that they are going to push my hire date back one week. I was supposed to start Monday, but since it's a holiday, I have to wait a week before they will start me. Of course, this means I don't get paid for Columbus day. Yay. At least DAV has offered to allow me to work extra hours for the week so I don't lose pay, and I still get a three day weekend. Plus, Robert Half (my consulting company) has offered to take me to lunch Monday. So, I guess that worked out ok...
I'm really looking forward to working here at DAV full time. It's a great organization, and the people here are wonderful. I am happy to (almost) be a part of the family. I can see myself being here for a very long time. It's almost like I've arrived home after a long, tiring trip. Ok, ok, that sounds cheesy, but what can I say? I love cheese!
I took Kelly to Indianapolis with me, so that she could sit around for hours and watch me play pool in the regional tournament. Hey, why not? I need to feed my ego somehow, and as long as she was willing...
It was a good tournament. I didn't think I was going to get to play 9-ball, because they were pushing back 9-ball matches until March. However, for my handicap level, we got to play. I started with an 8-ball match, which I won. The guy I played was very good, and it was a close match. He wasn't happy with his shooting, but nobody is happy with their shooting when they lose.
As soon as I turned the score sheet in, they immediately put me up for a 9-ball match. This was to be the pattern all day; in 6 hours of pool, I got absolutely no time to rest and recharge. It was an endurance test, and I didn't pass.
As it turns out, I met the same guy in my 9-ball match. He was out for revenge, and he got it -- he beat me by 5 points. It was a great match again, and I thoroughly enjoyed playing him. He was a very good sport.
This went on for 4 more matches, alternating between 8-ball and 9-ball. I survived for 3 matches each. I was tired by the end, but all in all it was a good time. Kelly got to meet many of my friends, and we had fun.
Monday morning, I woke up incredibly dizzy and nauseous. I stayed home, losing a day of pay (I have been working as a consultant). It turns out it might be some sort of inner ear infection, but I will need to wait until I have full medical coverage when I am hired full time at DAV before I can get it checked out. More on that in a moment...
On Thursday, I hit a pothole driving in to work. I slammed it so hard, it blew out my tire. Fortunately, I was pulling off the highway into a parking lot when it happened, so I was able to just pull over to change the tire. Of course, I discovered that the spare (which I never used for 11 years) was not a solid rubber tire, but inflatable--and it was flat! I was a block away from a gas station, though, so I figured I'd be ok until I could get there and put air in the tire. I did so, and fortunately the air held!
I was able to get the tire replaced at Tire Discounters in a matter of minutes later that morning, so all's well in that department. Now, if I can just get the state to fix that pothole... wish me luck; I don't have a lot of confidence in our government at the moment...
Another strange thing happened Thursday... I received a notification that a new person was following me on twitter, by the name of heatherschmid. Great. I have received these before, where some person follows me, expecting me to see who they are, and follow some link to their porn site. I followed her link (hey, it's porn, why not???), and discovered that she is not a pornstar wannabe, but a recording artist. Ok... using twitter to promote herself? That's cool, I guess.
I wondered if she would talk to me... so I followed her back, and sent her a private tweet (go to twitter.com if you'd like to learn what it's about). She responded to me! We had a short conversation, during which I visited her site and listened to her music. I especially liked Molihua, and I LOVED her cover of "It's Been a While." Go to her site -- you can listen to all of her music on the website. She informed me that her music has been nominated for a Grammy as well, so of course now I am going to watch for it...
I am not a fan of spam, and of course I get tired of the "come visit my webcam" requests. However, it was quite refreshing to have an up and coming pop/rock star take the time to talk to me on Twitter one on one. She has gained herself a True Fan.
Update: Today, I found out that they are going to push my hire date back one week. I was supposed to start Monday, but since it's a holiday, I have to wait a week before they will start me. Of course, this means I don't get paid for Columbus day. Yay. At least DAV has offered to allow me to work extra hours for the week so I don't lose pay, and I still get a three day weekend. Plus, Robert Half (my consulting company) has offered to take me to lunch Monday. So, I guess that worked out ok...
I'm really looking forward to working here at DAV full time. It's a great organization, and the people here are wonderful. I am happy to (almost) be a part of the family. I can see myself being here for a very long time. It's almost like I've arrived home after a long, tiring trip. Ok, ok, that sounds cheesy, but what can I say? I love cheese!
Sunday, September 28, 2008
Best. Costume. Ever.
I have a favorite event that I enjoy this time of year. Yes, my birthday is in August, and that is fun, but that's not it. Halloween is coming in a month, but that's not it either... I am talking, of course, about the Renaissance Festival!
Every year, we get to step back in time to a more simple period. A period of sword fighting, of jousting, huge tankards of mead in one hand and a large turkey leg in the other. How fun to walk around and admire the people dressed in period clothing: large-bosomed women showing off their ample endowments, and men in chain mail, leather, and capes. Swordsmen and princesses, jesters and wenches.
Of course, I am reminded many times that I know nothing about the Renaissance. I had assumed that the Renaissance was a cultural movement resulting in fundamental changes in art and mathematics. The only math and art I saw, however, was a sign on which all of the $5 items had been changed to $6 with a blue pen. $6 for a bowl of soup? Not very Renaissancey if you ask me...
But I digress.
What I apparently did not know was the amazingly wide variety of couture available during that time. Some of my favorite recreations included:
Ok, sure, Kelly and I had a good time. No turkey leg or mead for me this time, and there is the arrow-shooting incident that I do NOT want to talk about, but I did get my Master Marksman certifications in the axe-throwing and ninja-star throwing competitions. Yes, apparently lumberjacks and ninjas were also a part of the Renaissance.
I really need to take a History class.
Every year, we get to step back in time to a more simple period. A period of sword fighting, of jousting, huge tankards of mead in one hand and a large turkey leg in the other. How fun to walk around and admire the people dressed in period clothing: large-bosomed women showing off their ample endowments, and men in chain mail, leather, and capes. Swordsmen and princesses, jesters and wenches.
Of course, I am reminded many times that I know nothing about the Renaissance. I had assumed that the Renaissance was a cultural movement resulting in fundamental changes in art and mathematics. The only math and art I saw, however, was a sign on which all of the $5 items had been changed to $6 with a blue pen. $6 for a bowl of soup? Not very Renaissancey if you ask me...
But I digress.
What I apparently did not know was the amazingly wide variety of couture available during that time. Some of my favorite recreations included:
- A Wizard. Dressed in full regalia, complete with Gandolfish hat. I wasn't sure if he was from the Lord of the Rings or Harry Potter Renaissance eras, though. it was tough to tell. He did have a very cool looking pipe...
- A large group of girls in Capri pants, t-shirts, tennis shoes, and of course, duchess hats.
- Many different guys wearing boots, jeans, some sort of death-metal t-shirt, and a cape. I seriously had no idea that death metal originated during the Renaissance, but we are discovering of course that I know very little...
- A young man had a couple of newly created Samurai swords. Again, forgive my lack of Renaissance knowledge, but...
- Um... Samurai swords? In a recreation of an English Renaissance village?
- The handle and sheaths seemed to be made of pine. Plain pine. No decorations.
- Aren't you supposed to go through rigorous training and be ready to kill yourself for your cause before you are given a Samurai sword? He had TWO!!
- Not one single person dressed as Robin Hood. NOT ONE! I was so disappointed
- It was Pirate weekend. Ok, sure... pirates existed at the same time... but so did Pilgrims, and I didn't see a single person dressed as a pilgrim! But, I did see...
- ... a pirate werewolf!!! Yes, people, it is true. They DO exist. Unfortunately, I wasn't able to get a picture, but rest assured, although it looked like a bad werewolf mask and gloves, with bare arms and legs, shorts, t-shirt, and tennis shoes, I assure you it was a pirate werewolf! The pirate hat was the giveaway.
Ok, sure, Kelly and I had a good time. No turkey leg or mead for me this time, and there is the arrow-shooting incident that I do NOT want to talk about, but I did get my Master Marksman certifications in the axe-throwing and ninja-star throwing competitions. Yes, apparently lumberjacks and ninjas were also a part of the Renaissance.
I really need to take a History class.
Thursday, September 11, 2008
Reflection
I am incredibly fortunate to have landed a job recently at the Disabled American Veterans headquarters in Cold Spring, KY. I am finally working for an organization with a mission statement I can stand behind, a company devoted to the welfare of my fellow veterans who have been injured while serving their country. I am honored to be here.
We have a small museum here, with many memorabilia from many different wars over the years. However, there is one item on display that is not from a war, which does not honor veterans. It is a flag, upon which is written the names of every known victim of the terrorist attacks on 9/11. It is quite moving to sit and read some of the names, almost as though one is allowing those names to mean something more than just a marker to keep their place in our history.
An email was sent out yesterday within our organization, reminding people to take a moment to remember the victims, and encouraging us to wear black. Here is what part of the email said:
As we remember the September 11, 2001, attacks on our Nation this Patriot Day, let us reaffirm the vows made in the earliest hours of our grief and anger. As liberty's home and defender, America will not tire, will not falter, and will not fail in fighting for the safety and security of the American people and a nation free from terrorism. Let us continue to bring our enemies to justice or bring justice to them.
Please take a moment to remember our fallen brothers and sisters today.
Wednesday, September 10, 2008
Life is like a box of chocolates...
... you never know when it's going to bend you over and kick you in the nuts. Or something like that. Fuck it, I don't give a shit.
Ok... Most of you people reading this know me pretty well. You know that I am all about integrity. Honesty. Trust. They are very important things to me, things I value above almost everything else -- even cheese. So, why is it that I always seem to end up with people who pay lip service to these values, but don't practice them?
How does someone tell me that they are on the verge of falling in love with me one day, and then break up with me the next day after a disagreement? How can she tell me so many wonderful things that she loves about me, and how much she wants to see me, then tell me our relationship is over the very next day? Did I mention that it was less than 24 hours??? I am sure I read and heard the words "I'm not going anywhere" several times in the last week.
Yes, I can be pretty intense at times, but this is the real me. Take it or leave it. I am real, I don't play games, and I never pretend to be someone I am not. I am honest, I wear my heart on my sleeve, and you know what? Sometimes we will get into an argument. Sometimes we won't see eye to eye on things. It's called a relationship. They take work.
In hindsight, I see where the descent began... It was a week and a half ago, on Labor Day. There was this look in her eyes she had when I was leaving, like she was glad to see me go. We experienced a wonderful weekend together, quite blissful, then within a 30 minute period, I was practically pushed out the door to my 5 hour drive home. Next weekend, she didn't want to talk to me for 3 days straight ("stress"). Emails that used to come to me 10 a day trickled down to 1 or 2 per day. She told me NUMEROUS times that she thought I'd be happier with someone local. Why oh why didn't I read the signs? I suppose I did... I knew it was coming, and pretty much told her that I saw them. She denied them. She told me she wasn't going anywhere. I was being silly. She was just focused that day on Labor Day. She was tired. Stressed. Job had her down. Focused on her charities. Fuck... why can't anyone just come out and say "I don't see this relationship going anywhere?" Why lead me on?
Well. She was right. She didn't go anywhere. She stayed right where she was, and told me on the phone last night that she was done, and didn't want me to come around any more. No discussion. I get no say. Just like I got no say about when I could see her -- I had to fit into her schedule somehow. Just like I got no say about whether she was going to not call me for 3 days. "Sorry Michael, sucks for you... we're done, have a good life, go fuck yourself."
Just perfect.
My new resolutions:
1. Stick with a local woman.
2. Find someone who doesn't have to fit you in to a schedule a soccer mom/girlscout leader would cringe at.
3. Date women who actually know how to feel passion, and who aren't afraid of a man in touch with his emotions.
4. Find someone who believes that trust, honesty, communication, and respect actually mean something.
Failing that, I'll join a monastery. At least there I won't have to deal with communication issues.
Ok... Most of you people reading this know me pretty well. You know that I am all about integrity. Honesty. Trust. They are very important things to me, things I value above almost everything else -- even cheese. So, why is it that I always seem to end up with people who pay lip service to these values, but don't practice them?
How does someone tell me that they are on the verge of falling in love with me one day, and then break up with me the next day after a disagreement? How can she tell me so many wonderful things that she loves about me, and how much she wants to see me, then tell me our relationship is over the very next day? Did I mention that it was less than 24 hours??? I am sure I read and heard the words "I'm not going anywhere" several times in the last week.
Yes, I can be pretty intense at times, but this is the real me. Take it or leave it. I am real, I don't play games, and I never pretend to be someone I am not. I am honest, I wear my heart on my sleeve, and you know what? Sometimes we will get into an argument. Sometimes we won't see eye to eye on things. It's called a relationship. They take work.
In hindsight, I see where the descent began... It was a week and a half ago, on Labor Day. There was this look in her eyes she had when I was leaving, like she was glad to see me go. We experienced a wonderful weekend together, quite blissful, then within a 30 minute period, I was practically pushed out the door to my 5 hour drive home. Next weekend, she didn't want to talk to me for 3 days straight ("stress"). Emails that used to come to me 10 a day trickled down to 1 or 2 per day. She told me NUMEROUS times that she thought I'd be happier with someone local. Why oh why didn't I read the signs? I suppose I did... I knew it was coming, and pretty much told her that I saw them. She denied them. She told me she wasn't going anywhere. I was being silly. She was just focused that day on Labor Day. She was tired. Stressed. Job had her down. Focused on her charities. Fuck... why can't anyone just come out and say "I don't see this relationship going anywhere?" Why lead me on?
Well. She was right. She didn't go anywhere. She stayed right where she was, and told me on the phone last night that she was done, and didn't want me to come around any more. No discussion. I get no say. Just like I got no say about when I could see her -- I had to fit into her schedule somehow. Just like I got no say about whether she was going to not call me for 3 days. "Sorry Michael, sucks for you... we're done, have a good life, go fuck yourself."
Just perfect.
My new resolutions:
1. Stick with a local woman.
2. Find someone who doesn't have to fit you in to a schedule a soccer mom/girlscout leader would cringe at.
3. Date women who actually know how to feel passion, and who aren't afraid of a man in touch with his emotions.
4. Find someone who believes that trust, honesty, communication, and respect actually mean something.
Failing that, I'll join a monastery. At least there I won't have to deal with communication issues.
Thursday, August 21, 2008
Chivalry is Not Dead
Alternate Titles:
Everything Can Be Solved With Krazy Glue
or
Sears + K-Mart = "Holy Crap, K-Mart Sells Craftsman Tools Now!"
This post is brought to you by the letter F, and by the number 7 (which, coincidentally enough, is almost exactly how many years since my car has seen a mechanic).
Yesterday, I was on my way to pool, and had just exited the freeway. I was at the light, getting ready to turn, talking to my girlfriend Tammy* on the phone. I shifted into first gear, and suddenly the gear shift was loose in my hand!
"Oh, crap!" I exclaimed (actually, she told me later I dropped the F-bomb a couple of times. I may have. I was distraught. Plus, she did ask me "what's the problem? Call a tow truck." I never panic, but it was a 'panicky' moment ... and she was killing it...). I calmly told her I would call her back.
After driving my car in first gear to the K-Mart parking lot, I decided to give my friend Scott a call. He works at an auto parts store, so I figured he might be able to give me some advice.
First, after I described the problem, he told me "good, no problem. It will be an easy fix." Then, he told me he would be right there to help me (he was going to be on his way to the same pool match shortly). He scrapped all of his plans prior to going to pool, and immediately came to help me. In the meantime, I ran into K-Mart and purchased a small set of auto tools.
When he got there, we removed my center console, and discovered the problem. It was [insert mechanical techno mumbo-jumbo here], and all we really needed to do was repair a doohickey with some Krazy Glue. Good thing I parked at K-Mart!
Scott and I headed to the entrance of K-Mart to buy the Krazy Glue, and we were approached by a young man needing a jump. Scott immediately looked at me, said "go get the glue, I'll help him with his car." I bought the glue, and by the time I came back out the man was gone. Scotty to the rescue X2!
To speed up the story: Krazy Glue + plastic doohickey + a little leverage, accompanied by "That's not going to work, Scotty", followed immediately with a snap as the doodad popped into the doohickey (it worked), and we were back in business! We replaced the console, and we were on our way. We even made it to pool on time (albeit a little sweaty).
Scotty, you are one hell of a good man, and I count myself very lucky to call you my friend. I'm not sure you'll actually read this blog, but I want you to know that I am very glad to be your friend, and if there is anything I can ever do for you, the answer is yes.
Thank you, and God bless you.
---------------------------------------------------
* Tammy is her real name... why are you reading this? The story is up there... ^
Everything Can Be Solved With Krazy Glue
or
Sears + K-Mart = "Holy Crap, K-Mart Sells Craftsman Tools Now!"
This post is brought to you by the letter F, and by the number 7 (which, coincidentally enough, is almost exactly how many years since my car has seen a mechanic).
Yesterday, I was on my way to pool, and had just exited the freeway. I was at the light, getting ready to turn, talking to my girlfriend Tammy* on the phone. I shifted into first gear, and suddenly the gear shift was loose in my hand!
"Oh, crap!" I exclaimed (actually, she told me later I dropped the F-bomb a couple of times. I may have. I was distraught. Plus, she did ask me "what's the problem? Call a tow truck." I never panic, but it was a 'panicky' moment ... and she was killing it...). I calmly told her I would call her back.
After driving my car in first gear to the K-Mart parking lot, I decided to give my friend Scott a call. He works at an auto parts store, so I figured he might be able to give me some advice.
First, after I described the problem, he told me "good, no problem. It will be an easy fix." Then, he told me he would be right there to help me (he was going to be on his way to the same pool match shortly). He scrapped all of his plans prior to going to pool, and immediately came to help me. In the meantime, I ran into K-Mart and purchased a small set of auto tools.
When he got there, we removed my center console, and discovered the problem. It was [insert mechanical techno mumbo-jumbo here], and all we really needed to do was repair a doohickey with some Krazy Glue. Good thing I parked at K-Mart!
Scott and I headed to the entrance of K-Mart to buy the Krazy Glue, and we were approached by a young man needing a jump. Scott immediately looked at me, said "go get the glue, I'll help him with his car." I bought the glue, and by the time I came back out the man was gone. Scotty to the rescue X2!
To speed up the story: Krazy Glue + plastic doohickey + a little leverage, accompanied by "That's not going to work, Scotty", followed immediately with a snap as the doodad popped into the doohickey (it worked), and we were back in business! We replaced the console, and we were on our way. We even made it to pool on time (albeit a little sweaty).
Scotty, you are one hell of a good man, and I count myself very lucky to call you my friend. I'm not sure you'll actually read this blog, but I want you to know that I am very glad to be your friend, and if there is anything I can ever do for you, the answer is yes.
Thank you, and God bless you.
---------------------------------------------------
* Tammy is her real name... why are you reading this? The story is up there... ^
Thursday, July 17, 2008
An evening with Terry Fator
Last night, 3 friends of mine and I went to the Funny Bone on the Levee, in Newport Kentucky. We were there to see Terry Fator, and we were very excited. For those of you who don't know who he is, he is the ventriloquist who won the 2007 edition of America's Got Talent. You can see him all over YouTube; here is a link to his first AGT performance.
This is a story of how a few amazing events led up to one of the most enjoyable nights I have had in a very very long time. By the end of the night, I was truly inspired. I promise to try not to bore you too much. You might want to go pee now. I'll wait.
All set? Excellent.
Believe it or not, just over 2 weeks ago I had no idea who Terry Fator was. I hadn't seen last season's America's Got Talent. I was sitting in an office, filling out some paperwork for a new contract job I was going to be starting the following week. I saw a gorgeous woman walking out, and went back to my paperwork. Then I heard her voice, and knew almost instantly who it was -- my friend Krista, whom I hadn't seen in over a year!
By the time I realized who she was, she was gone. I still had her number, so I texted her, talked to her on the phone, went to lunch with her, and we reconnected. It was as if we had never been apart. She is such a sweetheart, and I had missed her. It's a blessing to have her back in my life.
This was shaping up to be a great day! I had a new job, and I had just run into a good friend I hadn't seen in a while. During our lunch, I found out she was as big a YouTube fanatic as I. She asked me if I knew about Terry Fator, and I said no. She got me to look at him on YouTube, and I totally fell in love with him. He is amazingly funny, and incredibly talented. She told me he was going to be at the Funny Bone in Newport, and I had tickets two days later.
A couple of days later, I got a call from another friend, Jackie, whom I also hadn't heard from in over a year. I met her after work one day, and we sat and talked for a while, also reconnecting. I love her... she really is a sweetheart, and was very happy to have her back in my life as well. I mentioned that I was going to see Terry Fator, and that I had bought two tickets. I asked her if she would like to go, and she enthusiastically said yes.
Excellent! Now I had a date!
Fast forward to last night. Right after work, I hauled ass down to Newport, and sat in front of the door to the Funny Bone. I was the first in line. Krista showed up shortly after, and we sat and played Travel Scrabble until her friend Val and my friend Jackie showed up. By 7 we were in the club, sitting at the best table in the house, front and center. We were very excited.
Shortly after 8pm, Terry came on stage and immediately began his act. He was great; very funny, and an excellent singer. About halfway through the act, his dummy Walter T. Airedale started hitting on Jackie. She really enjoyed it, but she turned about 5 shades of red. Walter seemed to be quite pleased that Jackie and I were "just friends" and turned on the charm. He almost had her, too, until he started yodeling!
So, Terry continued and was winding down his show. He started clearing an area on the stage, and told Jackie that he was sorry for picking on her. To make it up to her, he said he would pick on someone else. The whole time he's telling her this, I knew what was going to happen. I looked over to see Krista crossing her fingers and muttering "please be Mike, please be Mike, please be Mike..." Terry then turned to me and said "Mike, come on up here, you're gonna help me with my next number!" Great.
Krista leapt out of her seat, squealing in joy, and moved her chair out of my way, a huge grin on her face! I won't give away the whole act, because you just have to see it to truly appreciate it. Here is a YouTube video of the act. Just picture me in the outfit. Or not... it's your scarred psyche, not mine!
After the show, Terry allowed me to go to the front of the line and take pictures with him. He gave me a copy of every piece of memorabilia he was selling: a CD, DVD, picture, and a sock puppet his sister made, and he autographed them all.
It truly was an amazing evening. But it wasn't over.
By this time, I had an amazing amount of respect for Mr. Fator. He is very funny, incredibly talented, and just an all-around nice guy. I just had no idea how nice. While waiting for Krista's friend Val (who, by the way, is a doll, and incredibly sexy) to get through the line, We had the priveledge of talking to Terry's manager, who told us a few things I don't think Terry would ever share on his own.
Terry once noticed a poor woman asking about prices to get her nails done. He pulled out his credit card and paid for an entire day of beauty for her at the salon, giving them his credit card number and telling them to add a 20% tip onto the bill. He then walked out, never telling the woman what he did.
Terry was talking to a woman after one of his shows and learned that she was having financial trouble after her father died. He promptly took all of the proceeds from the sale of his merchandise after the show, and handed it to her -- around $5000!
After our show, Terry said he'd meet us at the autograph table in a couple of minutes. He was very late, and people were wondering what was keeping him. "You know those showbiz types." He eventually came out, without a word of apology or explanation, and began signing autographs and greeting fans with a warm smile.
As it turns out, inside the club, he ran into a young handicapped man in a wheelchair being lovingly attended to by his mother. He stopped to spend a good 10 or 15 minutes with him before coming out to greet the rest of us.
I was moved. Here is this guy, adored by an exponentially growing fanbase of millions, giving back everything he can to help people around him. He is an amazing insipiration to me, and has touched my heart. I am humbled by his enormous giving nature. This is a very good man, a truly good soul. He deserves all of the success he has enjoyed so far, and will for many years to come.
Terry, I tip my hat to you, and hope that you have many many years of success in Las Vegas. You are a true inspiration, and I count myself blessed to have met you (and "performed" with you). Your closing performance is perfect -- it truly is a Wonderful World with people like you in it to inspire the rest of us to do good things. Keep up the good work!
---------------------------------------------
View Pictures from the show
Visit Terry's site at http://www.terryfator.com. Hopefully they will soon sell the sock puppets on there. His sister makes them all by hand, and they are adorable. I think the proceeds go to a good cause, but I cannot remember what it is. Terry, if I am blessed enough for you to read this, please let me know what the proceeds from your sock puppet sales go to, and I'll update my blog.
This is a story of how a few amazing events led up to one of the most enjoyable nights I have had in a very very long time. By the end of the night, I was truly inspired. I promise to try not to bore you too much. You might want to go pee now. I'll wait.
All set? Excellent.
Believe it or not, just over 2 weeks ago I had no idea who Terry Fator was. I hadn't seen last season's America's Got Talent. I was sitting in an office, filling out some paperwork for a new contract job I was going to be starting the following week. I saw a gorgeous woman walking out, and went back to my paperwork. Then I heard her voice, and knew almost instantly who it was -- my friend Krista, whom I hadn't seen in over a year!
By the time I realized who she was, she was gone. I still had her number, so I texted her, talked to her on the phone, went to lunch with her, and we reconnected. It was as if we had never been apart. She is such a sweetheart, and I had missed her. It's a blessing to have her back in my life.
This was shaping up to be a great day! I had a new job, and I had just run into a good friend I hadn't seen in a while. During our lunch, I found out she was as big a YouTube fanatic as I. She asked me if I knew about Terry Fator, and I said no. She got me to look at him on YouTube, and I totally fell in love with him. He is amazingly funny, and incredibly talented. She told me he was going to be at the Funny Bone in Newport, and I had tickets two days later.
A couple of days later, I got a call from another friend, Jackie, whom I also hadn't heard from in over a year. I met her after work one day, and we sat and talked for a while, also reconnecting. I love her... she really is a sweetheart, and was very happy to have her back in my life as well. I mentioned that I was going to see Terry Fator, and that I had bought two tickets. I asked her if she would like to go, and she enthusiastically said yes.
Excellent! Now I had a date!
Fast forward to last night. Right after work, I hauled ass down to Newport, and sat in front of the door to the Funny Bone. I was the first in line. Krista showed up shortly after, and we sat and played Travel Scrabble until her friend Val and my friend Jackie showed up. By 7 we were in the club, sitting at the best table in the house, front and center. We were very excited.
Shortly after 8pm, Terry came on stage and immediately began his act. He was great; very funny, and an excellent singer. About halfway through the act, his dummy Walter T. Airedale started hitting on Jackie. She really enjoyed it, but she turned about 5 shades of red. Walter seemed to be quite pleased that Jackie and I were "just friends" and turned on the charm. He almost had her, too, until he started yodeling!
So, Terry continued and was winding down his show. He started clearing an area on the stage, and told Jackie that he was sorry for picking on her. To make it up to her, he said he would pick on someone else. The whole time he's telling her this, I knew what was going to happen. I looked over to see Krista crossing her fingers and muttering "please be Mike, please be Mike, please be Mike..." Terry then turned to me and said "Mike, come on up here, you're gonna help me with my next number!" Great.
Krista leapt out of her seat, squealing in joy, and moved her chair out of my way, a huge grin on her face! I won't give away the whole act, because you just have to see it to truly appreciate it. Here is a YouTube video of the act. Just picture me in the outfit. Or not... it's your scarred psyche, not mine!
After the show, Terry allowed me to go to the front of the line and take pictures with him. He gave me a copy of every piece of memorabilia he was selling: a CD, DVD, picture, and a sock puppet his sister made, and he autographed them all.
It truly was an amazing evening. But it wasn't over.
By this time, I had an amazing amount of respect for Mr. Fator. He is very funny, incredibly talented, and just an all-around nice guy. I just had no idea how nice. While waiting for Krista's friend Val (who, by the way, is a doll, and incredibly sexy) to get through the line, We had the priveledge of talking to Terry's manager, who told us a few things I don't think Terry would ever share on his own.
Terry once noticed a poor woman asking about prices to get her nails done. He pulled out his credit card and paid for an entire day of beauty for her at the salon, giving them his credit card number and telling them to add a 20% tip onto the bill. He then walked out, never telling the woman what he did.
Terry was talking to a woman after one of his shows and learned that she was having financial trouble after her father died. He promptly took all of the proceeds from the sale of his merchandise after the show, and handed it to her -- around $5000!
After our show, Terry said he'd meet us at the autograph table in a couple of minutes. He was very late, and people were wondering what was keeping him. "You know those showbiz types." He eventually came out, without a word of apology or explanation, and began signing autographs and greeting fans with a warm smile.
As it turns out, inside the club, he ran into a young handicapped man in a wheelchair being lovingly attended to by his mother. He stopped to spend a good 10 or 15 minutes with him before coming out to greet the rest of us.
I was moved. Here is this guy, adored by an exponentially growing fanbase of millions, giving back everything he can to help people around him. He is an amazing insipiration to me, and has touched my heart. I am humbled by his enormous giving nature. This is a very good man, a truly good soul. He deserves all of the success he has enjoyed so far, and will for many years to come.
Terry, I tip my hat to you, and hope that you have many many years of success in Las Vegas. You are a true inspiration, and I count myself blessed to have met you (and "performed" with you). Your closing performance is perfect -- it truly is a Wonderful World with people like you in it to inspire the rest of us to do good things. Keep up the good work!
---------------------------------------------
View Pictures from the show
Visit Terry's site at http://www.terryfator.com. Hopefully they will soon sell the sock puppets on there. His sister makes them all by hand, and they are adorable. I think the proceeds go to a good cause, but I cannot remember what it is. Terry, if I am blessed enough for you to read this, please let me know what the proceeds from your sock puppet sales go to, and I'll update my blog.
Monday, June 9, 2008
Do you believe in happily ever after?
Recent events in my life have been a tremendous cause for reflection and retrospection. I have a good sense of humor, and love to laugh about things, but it has been incredibly difficult for me to find a reason to laugh lately.
I recently began dating a woman I have known for the past couple of years. She has played in my pool league for a couple of years, and although I never knew her outside the pool hall, I talked to her many times, and over time came to respect her and admire her, for many reasons I don't really need to elaborate on here. Suffice it to say that I have learned over time that she is a warm-hearted, caring, and genuine person; one of those personalities that everyone seems to be drawn to. She attracts friends like a rare earth magnet; once you are in her circle, you are there forever.
Or so I thought.
In mid-March, we began to see more of each other, and within a relatively short time, decided to see each other exclusively. We shared so many things; we are both huge Lord of the Rings geeks, we both are passionate and creative in our own ways, we are "foodies." Our attraction for each other was almost self-destructive; many times, we would stay up all night long talking and otherwise enjoying each other's company, even on "school nights." We recognized this, and made a conscious effort to reign it in, and try to go slow. Considering the passion and attraction, I think we did a fairly good job of it.
And then, I did something stupid. Looking back on everything, I can see that thing as the defining moment in our relationship, where things took a turn down a different road, and before long we were lost, desperately trying to find out way out of the woods, but only managing to get deeper and deeper. What was this horrible thing I did? What is it that would cause such a drastic change in our relationship, and cause us to lose our way?
I fell in love with her.
Yes, that is my horrible crime. A terrible mistake, indeed. She warned me, too--told me that she is not good at relationships. She hinted over and over that she is not lovable, that she has a nasty temper, the likes of which I have never seen before, something so terrible to behold that I should hope it never surfaces. She told me how she doesn't believe that anyone can fall in love after a short time, even though she has fallen instantly in love in her past. She seems to have a low opinion of herself, and doesn't see how anyone can fall in love with her, especially when she has so carefully and painstakingly crafted this perfect image of herself as a cold-hearted, uncaring bitch.
She did't seem to realize that with the X-ray glasses of love, one can see past the exterior shell she donned to the real person underneath: a warm, caring, vulnerable woman who is quite obviously in a LOT of pain.
When she told me about her "Slovak" temper, and how I should hope I never see it, I wondered about that. My first wife had a pretty nasty temper herself, and we had some pretty crazy fights. I am quite a stubborn person, as she is, and I couldn't help but wonder what it would be like if we did end up fighting. Sure enough, we started butting heads about our ideas of where our relationship should be heading. We both agreed that we moved a little too fast, but we completely disagreed where we should go from there.
I felt that we should explore our feelings and try to move forward, cautiously if necessary. Her reaction was to retreat and build a castle around herself.
Our differing opinions were a breeding ground of discontent, and I began to think that it might be about time to see that infamous Slovak temper makes its presence known. Not that I was looking forward to it, of course, but I was curious about how bad it would really be. I was not prepared.
Let me tell you, my friends, my family, and even you, the odd stranger who somehow wandered onto this page and for some reason is still reading this boring story... I encountered something far worse than anything you could imagine. I had this picture of plates flying through the air, smashing into shards on the wall behind me; knives whirling through the air and whistling past my ears. Screeching, and hollering, and screaming.
No. It was worse. Much worse.
What I encountered was... nothing. That's right. NOTHING. Dead, cricket-chirping silence. At first, I figured she was thinking about things, as she said she was going to. I gave her the space she told me she needed, and stopped trying to talk to her, because she told me she wasn't ready to talk. The silence was deafening. Then I found out she was very sick, and I felt like an idiot. I sent her a text to let her know I was thinking about her, and that I hoped she'd feel better. I got little more than a virtual grunt, and only because she didn't seem to like what I had to say. It was pretty obvious she was having some very negative thoughts about me. I put that on her being sick, and left her alone.
But... I loved her, and I am a romantic, so I sent her some flowers. They were definitely delivered; I received confirmation of that. Still... nothing. No "Thank you." No "I got the flowers." No "What the fuck are these for, you piece of shit?" NOTHING. Still... I figured I'd wait.
After a few more days of this, I decided it was time to tell her how I felt about her, regardless of her desire to wait until she was ready to talk. Despite her feelings toward me, which more and more seemed to be on the side of (hatred? loathing? disgust?) who knows what, I loved her. I don't love lightly, and I don't easily give up on the one I love.
But, she told me she also believes in the same things I do about relationships: honesty, communication, trust, and respect. She told me that if she didn't want to be with me, that she'd have said so by now, and that she was trying to figure things out. I had to believe there was still hope, that she would open up her heart, tear down the walls, and stop being afraid to love me back. I hoped and prayed that she would realize that she had a good man who would always be there for her, who would always be at her side when she needed it, who would always leave her alone when she needed her space.
So much for that.
I believe in happy endings. E.T. goes home, Hansel and Gretel kill the bad witch, Dorothy wakes up from a dream, and I find the love of my life and live happily ever after. I am a hopeless romantic, and I will always be. I had hoped for her sake that she would wake up from her nightmare someday soon, and realize just how wonderful it would have been to have someone in her life who loves her: body, mind, heart and soul.
I truly hope she finds that someday. Everyone deserves to be happy. It just won't be with me.
I recently began dating a woman I have known for the past couple of years. She has played in my pool league for a couple of years, and although I never knew her outside the pool hall, I talked to her many times, and over time came to respect her and admire her, for many reasons I don't really need to elaborate on here. Suffice it to say that I have learned over time that she is a warm-hearted, caring, and genuine person; one of those personalities that everyone seems to be drawn to. She attracts friends like a rare earth magnet; once you are in her circle, you are there forever.
Or so I thought.
In mid-March, we began to see more of each other, and within a relatively short time, decided to see each other exclusively. We shared so many things; we are both huge Lord of the Rings geeks, we both are passionate and creative in our own ways, we are "foodies." Our attraction for each other was almost self-destructive; many times, we would stay up all night long talking and otherwise enjoying each other's company, even on "school nights." We recognized this, and made a conscious effort to reign it in, and try to go slow. Considering the passion and attraction, I think we did a fairly good job of it.
And then, I did something stupid. Looking back on everything, I can see that thing as the defining moment in our relationship, where things took a turn down a different road, and before long we were lost, desperately trying to find out way out of the woods, but only managing to get deeper and deeper. What was this horrible thing I did? What is it that would cause such a drastic change in our relationship, and cause us to lose our way?
I fell in love with her.
Yes, that is my horrible crime. A terrible mistake, indeed. She warned me, too--told me that she is not good at relationships. She hinted over and over that she is not lovable, that she has a nasty temper, the likes of which I have never seen before, something so terrible to behold that I should hope it never surfaces. She told me how she doesn't believe that anyone can fall in love after a short time, even though she has fallen instantly in love in her past. She seems to have a low opinion of herself, and doesn't see how anyone can fall in love with her, especially when she has so carefully and painstakingly crafted this perfect image of herself as a cold-hearted, uncaring bitch.
She did't seem to realize that with the X-ray glasses of love, one can see past the exterior shell she donned to the real person underneath: a warm, caring, vulnerable woman who is quite obviously in a LOT of pain.
When she told me about her "Slovak" temper, and how I should hope I never see it, I wondered about that. My first wife had a pretty nasty temper herself, and we had some pretty crazy fights. I am quite a stubborn person, as she is, and I couldn't help but wonder what it would be like if we did end up fighting. Sure enough, we started butting heads about our ideas of where our relationship should be heading. We both agreed that we moved a little too fast, but we completely disagreed where we should go from there.
I felt that we should explore our feelings and try to move forward, cautiously if necessary. Her reaction was to retreat and build a castle around herself.
Our differing opinions were a breeding ground of discontent, and I began to think that it might be about time to see that infamous Slovak temper makes its presence known. Not that I was looking forward to it, of course, but I was curious about how bad it would really be. I was not prepared.
Let me tell you, my friends, my family, and even you, the odd stranger who somehow wandered onto this page and for some reason is still reading this boring story... I encountered something far worse than anything you could imagine. I had this picture of plates flying through the air, smashing into shards on the wall behind me; knives whirling through the air and whistling past my ears. Screeching, and hollering, and screaming.
No. It was worse. Much worse.
What I encountered was... nothing. That's right. NOTHING. Dead, cricket-chirping silence. At first, I figured she was thinking about things, as she said she was going to. I gave her the space she told me she needed, and stopped trying to talk to her, because she told me she wasn't ready to talk. The silence was deafening. Then I found out she was very sick, and I felt like an idiot. I sent her a text to let her know I was thinking about her, and that I hoped she'd feel better. I got little more than a virtual grunt, and only because she didn't seem to like what I had to say. It was pretty obvious she was having some very negative thoughts about me. I put that on her being sick, and left her alone.
But... I loved her, and I am a romantic, so I sent her some flowers. They were definitely delivered; I received confirmation of that. Still... nothing. No "Thank you." No "I got the flowers." No "What the fuck are these for, you piece of shit?" NOTHING. Still... I figured I'd wait.
After a few more days of this, I decided it was time to tell her how I felt about her, regardless of her desire to wait until she was ready to talk. Despite her feelings toward me, which more and more seemed to be on the side of (hatred? loathing? disgust?) who knows what, I loved her. I don't love lightly, and I don't easily give up on the one I love.
But, she told me she also believes in the same things I do about relationships: honesty, communication, trust, and respect. She told me that if she didn't want to be with me, that she'd have said so by now, and that she was trying to figure things out. I had to believe there was still hope, that she would open up her heart, tear down the walls, and stop being afraid to love me back. I hoped and prayed that she would realize that she had a good man who would always be there for her, who would always be at her side when she needed it, who would always leave her alone when she needed her space.
So much for that.
I believe in happy endings. E.T. goes home, Hansel and Gretel kill the bad witch, Dorothy wakes up from a dream, and I find the love of my life and live happily ever after. I am a hopeless romantic, and I will always be. I had hoped for her sake that she would wake up from her nightmare someday soon, and realize just how wonderful it would have been to have someone in her life who loves her: body, mind, heart and soul.
I truly hope she finds that someday. Everyone deserves to be happy. It just won't be with me.
Friday, April 18, 2008
My happy place
The squeak of the chalk cube as I apply it to the tip of my cue. The smooth cool shaft sliding through my fingers. The worn rough felt under my fingertips. The cracking thunder of a well-struck break. The chunk-chunk-chunk of the balls finding the bottom of a pocket. And "Ring of Fire" blaring on the jukebox. Ok, I could really do without that last part. But this is where I'm happy.
Holy crap...
I think we just had an earthquake... In Ohio??? It felt like maybe a
4.0 or so. Can't wait to find out!
Update: Yep. Earthquake. Pretty cool... I haven't felt one in quite some time. Being from California, it almost made me feel at home :)
There's more information about it here.
4.0 or so. Can't wait to find out!
Update: Yep. Earthquake. Pretty cool... I haven't felt one in quite some time. Being from California, it almost made me feel at home :)
There's more information about it here.
Thursday, April 17, 2008
My new blog
I decided to start using Blogger, because of the very cool features they have. Best of all, I can post blogs directly from my iPhone simply by sending an email. How cool is that?
To those of you coming here from my old blog site, welcome. To those of you who are new... well, welcome to you too.
I am sure most of my posts will be random boring observations on my part, but feel free to peruse to your heart's content, and leave me any comments you like.
Are you confused about posts that are older than this one? I brought some over from other blogs, and post-dated them. Ain't computers great?
Thanks, and enjoy :)
To those of you coming here from my old blog site, welcome. To those of you who are new... well, welcome to you too.
I am sure most of my posts will be random boring observations on my part, but feel free to peruse to your heart's content, and leave me any comments you like.
Are you confused about posts that are older than this one? I brought some over from other blogs, and post-dated them. Ain't computers great?
Thanks, and enjoy :)
Sunday, March 23, 2008
Happy Easter, Mom
It's been three months since my Mom died, and it's Easter Sunday. I was raised as a Catholic, but these days I find my faith in God a little shaky. Some of it has to do with my logical mind questioning the validity of the many claims the church has made, and some is due in no small part to the many trials I have been through recently.
But this is not about my lapse in faith. Today I find myself thinking about my Mom, and how much I miss her. She wasn't a church-goer, either -- indeed, she believed in reincarnation. But Easter was still an important holiday to her, and I find myself wishing I could be with her today.
Here is the story of my last visit with my Mom. Read and remember her with love and joy. It is what she would have wanted.
In early December (2007), I got an email from Staci, my ex-girlfriend, telling me that my mother's partner Debby was trying to get a hold of me. I guess she couldn't find my email address, and didn't know that I had cancelled my land line. I called her, and she told me that Mom was sick and in the hospital, and that I should fly out to Reno to see her. I couldn't really afford to miss work (as I was getting paid by the hour), so I booked a flight for early Saturday morning, to return on Monday afternoon. This way, I'd only miss a day of work.
I arrived at the hospital on Saturday, and Mom wasn't looking good. I found out that she had been there for 3 weeks, after catching pneumonia. She looked very weak, but she was happy to see me. We talked for a little bit (with me doing most of the talking; she could barely breathe, let alone talk), and I told her that I missed her, and loved her very much.
On Sunday, Mom put herself on the Do Not Resuscitate list. Essentially, she told them that if anything happened, they were not to go through any extraordinary means to keep her alive. We were heartbroken. This meant that Mom knew she wasn't going to make it. She wanted to make sure that we all were ok with her decision, and that we weren't mad at her. I assured her that I loved her, and trusted her to do what she thought was best. We called my brother Jason, and he was on the next flight to Reno he could get.
Sunday night, they put Mom on a morphine drip. Before she went to sleep, she asked for Jason, and kept asking "how much longer?" She wanted all of her children to be with her before the end. We told her "he'll be here soon." Jason arrived on Monday, and was in the room by 12:45pm. We left him alone with her to talk to Mom for a while. Then we all came back in and gathered around her bed. Debby sat on Mom's right hand, and I was on her left. Everyone gathered close, and we all told Mom how much we loved her, and that it was ok to let go. At 1:45, she stopped breathing, and finally let go. I truly believe that the tremendous love in that room put Mom at peace, and allowed her to stop hurting.
I miss Mom terribly, as I am sure every person she has ever touched in her life does as well. Her legacy lives on in many people. Even now, three months later, I occasionally cry as I think about her. She had a beautiful smile, and a childlike joy for life, which she shared with everyone. I can still hear her laugh, and quite often I find myself hearing that laugh whenever I see or hear something I know she would enjoy.
I would like to close with a copy of the eulogy I wrote for her. I love you Mom. Happy Easter.
Eulogy for Dianna Mary Lee Yielding
delivered by Michael K. Glass Jr.
June 22, 1948 – December 17, 2007
My mother, Dianna Yielding, was a complex, multi-faceted person. Many of you here today knew my mother personally, and many of you knew my mother indirectly through one of her family members. You may have known her as a coworker, a friend, or a support person. Of course, all of my mother’s family here today each knew a part of her, a “facet” of her--as a partner, a mother, a daughter, a sister, an aunt, a grandmother, a cousin.
As many of you may know, I was not raised by my mother. She has always been “Mom” to me, but I have also come to know her as a friend. My mom shared much of herself with me over the years, and I saw sides of my mother as she struggled with her Sarcoidosis that I had never seen before, especially her strong belief in positive thinking and the importance of quality of life. I was privileged to know so many facets of my mother, but certainly I did not know all. There were parts of her life that I didn’t see, relationships that I didn’t know about. Over the past few days, I have heard so many stories about my mom’s strength, courage, humor, kindness, her quietness, her loyalty as a friend. It was so special to hear of these things that my mom said and did, to know some of these other parts of her life. I hope that her friends and family will continue to share these stories with me and with each other so we can continue to know and remember my mom.
Therefore, I would like to share a little about my mother as I knew her--as her oldest son, and as her friend.
I have quite fuzzy and varied memories of my mother when I was very young. After she and my father divorced, and after a lot of moving around, I finally settled into a relatively normal life with my aunt and uncle. I would visit my mother on a regular basis, and it was during these visits that I really connected with her and got to know her on so many levels. Each night I would get ready for bed, which usually was the couch. To this day, I still sleep on the couch when I visit mom’s house.
Mom would come in to say goodnight and tuck me in, and would usually end up sitting with me, talking for hours. I don’t remember what the conversations were about. They may have been about school, or life with my aunt and uncle, or some girl I liked. But she always listened, always answered every question I had in the best way she knew how, and never, ever spoke down to me; she always treated me as an equal. She would continue talking with me until I could no longer keep my eyes open.
As I became an adult, life sometimes got in the way, and I didn’t see her as often as I would have liked. However, we did talk on the phone from time to time, and again we would talk for hours on end. Many times, it felt as if we had some sort of psychic connection. Indeed, my mother firmly believed in this connection. I cannot recall how many times I would call her, and she would pick up the phone knowing it was me – of course, this was before caller ID!
Whenever I really needed her, Mom was there for me, even when nobody else was. No time was this more evident than when I was in the Navy. She was very proud of me, and she never let me forget it. She came to my graduation from Boot Camp, and never stopped smiling, waving, and taking pictures. When I was deployed to the Persian Gulf during Operation Desert Shield and Desert Storm, she was a huge supporter of the Yellow Ribbon Campaign back home. She did not get along with my wife Carrie at the time, but she was able to put her feelings aside and make amends with Carrie, because she knew how much it meant to me. She was there on the dock, alongside my wife, to greet me as I returned home from the Gulf War.
While in the Navy, I attended some classes and received my Associate’s Degree from Columbia College. It wasn’t a huge occasion, just a simple little ceremony, but it was very important to Mom and she flew to Seattle to help me celebrate my success. Yes, smiling, waving, and much picture-taking.
Another facet I can recall is that Mom was the consummate collector. I would not classify her as a pack-rat. She truly loved everything she collected, from DVDs of her favorite TV shows, to books, pens and business cards, to refrigerator magnets, dice and singing hamsters. Watching her shop for new treasures was a pleasure, and it was easy to get caught up in her glee of discovery. I can still hear her joyful little giggle when she would pick up some trinket and make it spin, shine, or sing a Christmas Carol.
For Mom, however, it was never about the “things.” More often than not, the things she would buy would never make it out of the package. They would find their way into a box or drawer, or sit on a shelf still wrapped in cellophane. She enjoyed the hunt, the discovery of some neat little toy. And the smaller it was, the better! Much to Debby’s chagrin, all you had to do was mention some neat gadget you just saw at Walmart, and Mom was out the door, dragging Debby along. Debby lived to make Mom happy, and although she’ll probably never admit it, I think she enjoyed being dragged along on those trips.
Mom was generous to a fault. If you told her in passing that you liked Smarties, she would always remember, and would make sure to give you some every time she saw you. She was probably the best tipper in Reno, and delighted in giving away golden Sacagewea dollars. If you were her valet, grocery bagger, florist, or dry cleaner, then you probably have received numerous gifts from her, including her famous Sees Candies. She truly delighted in making people happy.
One thing I learned early on in my life was to be very careful what you say to Mom. She was very observant, and that mixed with her generosity was a potent combination. I can recall many times when I would casually mention how cool some trinket was, sitting on one of her numerous shelves, and she would invariably say “You like that? It’s yours.” I can’t remember how many times I would return home from a visit with Mom with twice the weight in luggage as when I arrived.
I also knew my mother as a person who didn’t shirk her responsibilities, who did difficult things without complaint. I saw her care for her own sick and terminally ill mother, even having my grandma live here in Reno with her for a while. It certainly wasn’t easy for Mom to become a “mother” to her own mom. But my mom did this, and I have never once heard her complain about it.
I am sure that through the rest of my life, those around me will see flashes of my mother in me--the good and the bad! I am my mother’s own son, after all. Each of you also carry a part of my mother, and at times you will do or say something a certain way because of her. I hope you will always remember my mom, and share her memories with others! There are so many more memories of my mom; I hope you all feel free to share them with me and with each other.
I love you, Mom, and I will miss you.
But this is not about my lapse in faith. Today I find myself thinking about my Mom, and how much I miss her. She wasn't a church-goer, either -- indeed, she believed in reincarnation. But Easter was still an important holiday to her, and I find myself wishing I could be with her today.
Here is the story of my last visit with my Mom. Read and remember her with love and joy. It is what she would have wanted.
In early December (2007), I got an email from Staci, my ex-girlfriend, telling me that my mother's partner Debby was trying to get a hold of me. I guess she couldn't find my email address, and didn't know that I had cancelled my land line. I called her, and she told me that Mom was sick and in the hospital, and that I should fly out to Reno to see her. I couldn't really afford to miss work (as I was getting paid by the hour), so I booked a flight for early Saturday morning, to return on Monday afternoon. This way, I'd only miss a day of work.
I arrived at the hospital on Saturday, and Mom wasn't looking good. I found out that she had been there for 3 weeks, after catching pneumonia. She looked very weak, but she was happy to see me. We talked for a little bit (with me doing most of the talking; she could barely breathe, let alone talk), and I told her that I missed her, and loved her very much.
On Sunday, Mom put herself on the Do Not Resuscitate list. Essentially, she told them that if anything happened, they were not to go through any extraordinary means to keep her alive. We were heartbroken. This meant that Mom knew she wasn't going to make it. She wanted to make sure that we all were ok with her decision, and that we weren't mad at her. I assured her that I loved her, and trusted her to do what she thought was best. We called my brother Jason, and he was on the next flight to Reno he could get.
Sunday night, they put Mom on a morphine drip. Before she went to sleep, she asked for Jason, and kept asking "how much longer?" She wanted all of her children to be with her before the end. We told her "he'll be here soon." Jason arrived on Monday, and was in the room by 12:45pm. We left him alone with her to talk to Mom for a while. Then we all came back in and gathered around her bed. Debby sat on Mom's right hand, and I was on her left. Everyone gathered close, and we all told Mom how much we loved her, and that it was ok to let go. At 1:45, she stopped breathing, and finally let go. I truly believe that the tremendous love in that room put Mom at peace, and allowed her to stop hurting.
I miss Mom terribly, as I am sure every person she has ever touched in her life does as well. Her legacy lives on in many people. Even now, three months later, I occasionally cry as I think about her. She had a beautiful smile, and a childlike joy for life, which she shared with everyone. I can still hear her laugh, and quite often I find myself hearing that laugh whenever I see or hear something I know she would enjoy.
I would like to close with a copy of the eulogy I wrote for her. I love you Mom. Happy Easter.
delivered by Michael K. Glass Jr.
June 22, 1948 – December 17, 2007
My mother, Dianna Yielding, was a complex, multi-faceted person. Many of you here today knew my mother personally, and many of you knew my mother indirectly through one of her family members. You may have known her as a coworker, a friend, or a support person. Of course, all of my mother’s family here today each knew a part of her, a “facet” of her--as a partner, a mother, a daughter, a sister, an aunt, a grandmother, a cousin.
As many of you may know, I was not raised by my mother. She has always been “Mom” to me, but I have also come to know her as a friend. My mom shared much of herself with me over the years, and I saw sides of my mother as she struggled with her Sarcoidosis that I had never seen before, especially her strong belief in positive thinking and the importance of quality of life. I was privileged to know so many facets of my mother, but certainly I did not know all. There were parts of her life that I didn’t see, relationships that I didn’t know about. Over the past few days, I have heard so many stories about my mom’s strength, courage, humor, kindness, her quietness, her loyalty as a friend. It was so special to hear of these things that my mom said and did, to know some of these other parts of her life. I hope that her friends and family will continue to share these stories with me and with each other so we can continue to know and remember my mom.
Therefore, I would like to share a little about my mother as I knew her--as her oldest son, and as her friend.
I have quite fuzzy and varied memories of my mother when I was very young. After she and my father divorced, and after a lot of moving around, I finally settled into a relatively normal life with my aunt and uncle. I would visit my mother on a regular basis, and it was during these visits that I really connected with her and got to know her on so many levels. Each night I would get ready for bed, which usually was the couch. To this day, I still sleep on the couch when I visit mom’s house.
Mom would come in to say goodnight and tuck me in, and would usually end up sitting with me, talking for hours. I don’t remember what the conversations were about. They may have been about school, or life with my aunt and uncle, or some girl I liked. But she always listened, always answered every question I had in the best way she knew how, and never, ever spoke down to me; she always treated me as an equal. She would continue talking with me until I could no longer keep my eyes open.
As I became an adult, life sometimes got in the way, and I didn’t see her as often as I would have liked. However, we did talk on the phone from time to time, and again we would talk for hours on end. Many times, it felt as if we had some sort of psychic connection. Indeed, my mother firmly believed in this connection. I cannot recall how many times I would call her, and she would pick up the phone knowing it was me – of course, this was before caller ID!
Whenever I really needed her, Mom was there for me, even when nobody else was. No time was this more evident than when I was in the Navy. She was very proud of me, and she never let me forget it. She came to my graduation from Boot Camp, and never stopped smiling, waving, and taking pictures. When I was deployed to the Persian Gulf during Operation Desert Shield and Desert Storm, she was a huge supporter of the Yellow Ribbon Campaign back home. She did not get along with my wife Carrie at the time, but she was able to put her feelings aside and make amends with Carrie, because she knew how much it meant to me. She was there on the dock, alongside my wife, to greet me as I returned home from the Gulf War.
While in the Navy, I attended some classes and received my Associate’s Degree from Columbia College. It wasn’t a huge occasion, just a simple little ceremony, but it was very important to Mom and she flew to Seattle to help me celebrate my success. Yes, smiling, waving, and much picture-taking.
Another facet I can recall is that Mom was the consummate collector. I would not classify her as a pack-rat. She truly loved everything she collected, from DVDs of her favorite TV shows, to books, pens and business cards, to refrigerator magnets, dice and singing hamsters. Watching her shop for new treasures was a pleasure, and it was easy to get caught up in her glee of discovery. I can still hear her joyful little giggle when she would pick up some trinket and make it spin, shine, or sing a Christmas Carol.
For Mom, however, it was never about the “things.” More often than not, the things she would buy would never make it out of the package. They would find their way into a box or drawer, or sit on a shelf still wrapped in cellophane. She enjoyed the hunt, the discovery of some neat little toy. And the smaller it was, the better! Much to Debby’s chagrin, all you had to do was mention some neat gadget you just saw at Walmart, and Mom was out the door, dragging Debby along. Debby lived to make Mom happy, and although she’ll probably never admit it, I think she enjoyed being dragged along on those trips.
Mom was generous to a fault. If you told her in passing that you liked Smarties, she would always remember, and would make sure to give you some every time she saw you. She was probably the best tipper in Reno, and delighted in giving away golden Sacagewea dollars. If you were her valet, grocery bagger, florist, or dry cleaner, then you probably have received numerous gifts from her, including her famous Sees Candies. She truly delighted in making people happy.
One thing I learned early on in my life was to be very careful what you say to Mom. She was very observant, and that mixed with her generosity was a potent combination. I can recall many times when I would casually mention how cool some trinket was, sitting on one of her numerous shelves, and she would invariably say “You like that? It’s yours.” I can’t remember how many times I would return home from a visit with Mom with twice the weight in luggage as when I arrived.
I also knew my mother as a person who didn’t shirk her responsibilities, who did difficult things without complaint. I saw her care for her own sick and terminally ill mother, even having my grandma live here in Reno with her for a while. It certainly wasn’t easy for Mom to become a “mother” to her own mom. But my mom did this, and I have never once heard her complain about it.
I am sure that through the rest of my life, those around me will see flashes of my mother in me--the good and the bad! I am my mother’s own son, after all. Each of you also carry a part of my mother, and at times you will do or say something a certain way because of her. I hope you will always remember my mom, and share her memories with others! There are so many more memories of my mom; I hope you all feel free to share them with me and with each other.
I love you, Mom, and I will miss you.
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