If it's not the Mayans trying to kill us, it's the zombies.
After a few reports of people "eating" other people (or children in one case), the idea of a zombie apocalypse coming has been picking up steam, so much so that one gun magazine has started a spin-off magazine detailing all you're going to need to survive the oncoming onslaught of zombies.
Now, before I go further, let me remind everyone that the incidents reported do not necessarily mean that people are becoming zombies and we're all going to die. In a couple of cases, people were extremely high off of bath salts (not calgone either), which caused a crazed state of mind. This is NOT an indication of a problem with zombies, just a problem with stupid people, which is a battle that's been fought since humans appeared on the planet.
In any case, one of the more popular things to look up is how to survive the zombies when they do come. Video games and movies have been offering up scenarios and solutions for years (Wikipedia lists the first zombie movie back in 1919), the recent craze has caused people to contemplate again what would happen if zombies attacked.
Zombies have traditionally been portrayed as slow, lumbering creatures that just continue to come after you until you fill their heads with enough bullets or chop off the head entirely (although sometimes movies and games take liberty with this rule if you fill the body up with enough bullets). It seems impossible that normal people could get caught by the creatures, often leading to insults hurled at the screen as the "victims" continuously get caught by the slow-moving zombies.
George Romero's movies in the mid 80's are notorious for this type of zombie, usually surrounding a cabin in the middle of nowhere filled with teenagers doing things their parents probably don't approve of.
Lately though, movies and games have been using much faster, more agile zombies. Movies such as "28 Days Later" have used Zombies that can move very quickly, thus making them much more terrifying. Wikipedia has "I Am Legend" listed as a zombie movie, but I'm not sure if it counts. If it does, then we have a zombie movie where the zombies not only are frightenly quick, but learn and adapt to what the regular people are doing. Videogames have also been utilizing faster and more hostile zombies in recent games as well, adding a new level of fear to the player.
So if a zombie apocalypse is to occur how do we know what to prepare for? Do we prepare for the slow-moving, lumbering zombie? Do we prepare for the insanely fast zombie? Or is it some kind of hybrid of the two?
The problem lies in the fact that zombies are generally one of those creatures of myth. We see them in movies and games, but outside of that, they've only existed in stories without any concrete proof. Movies and games are based upon conjecture and the imaginations of movie and game designers. There is very little scientific fact to go on.
If it's as simple as getting a shotgun and blowing the head off of a zombie, then weapons experts should have no problem surviving. If it isn't that simple, then who knows if anyone would stand much of a chance of surviving.
Which brings me to the various methods I've heard people talk about using to survive. I'm going to list them, the advantages, and the downfalls.
Climbing up in a tree: Sure, it gets you off the ground and if you have a tree house with a nice load of supplies, you could survive a while. Just hope you don't have to go the bathroom frequently. Also, you could be in trouble if it turns out that birds can be infected.
The boathouse method: It's widely assumed that zombies can't swim. Therefore, finding a boathouse and loading it up with supplies seems like a good bet. Just don't run out of supplies. Or run into aquatic life zombies.
Holing up in a house: The downfall of most zombie movies, as long as they can't bust into the house, this is a pretty safe idea. Again, supplies would be the biggest issue. Anything that requires you to leave the house jeopardizes your ability to be safe. That and zombie pets.
Running and gunning: If they're the slow-moving zombies, grabbing some guns, some ammunition, and running around town killing every zombie in sight seems like a fun alternative to waiting for them to come to you. Just don't find yourself surrounded and out of ammo. That could be bad.
Just keep driving: Getting in a car and driving seems like a nice idea, unless you run out of gas. Best to keep a few guns at your side for the trip and you should be fine. Unless you do actually run out of gas and can't find a gas station that has any gas left. Or that isn't surrounded by zombies.
Hide in a bunker: Grab as many supplies as you can, as many magazines and books as you can find, and duck down into a bunker and wait. They can't get in to get you and with any luck, the zombie threat will have dwindled by the time you climb out of the hole looking for supplies. The downside? Zombie gophers.
There are many more survival theories floating around on the internet, but in the long run it's going to come down to having enough supplies to survive the onslaught. That and it seems like in video games the biggest threat isn't the zombies themselves, but the other people fighting for the limited supplies available.
So if the zombies start coming, you better have a good plan and a lot of luck on your side.
Oh, and a shotgun probably wouldn't hurt to have either.
Tuesday, June 26, 2012
Flashback! why I didn't follow in my dad's footsteps
Some who have followed the things that I've written over the years (and those who just have known me) know that the relationship with my dad has been frosty at best (and non-existent at the current time).
Some have given me a little grief about it, saying I should let bygones be bygones, but it isn't always as simple as that. There are just some things that in my mind, are unforgivable, things that you just can't shrug off and say oh well.
My dad is the type where if you don't do things the way he thinks you should do them, he gets mad at you and tries to force you to.
Case in point: when I was signing up for classes initially after high school, my mom and I had talked about how many credit hours I wanted to take. I wanted to work as much as I could and figured since it was just Tri-C, I wasn't going to overwhelm myself right out the gate. In a couple years when it was time to get more serious about it, I'd cut back on work and pick up classes.
My dad was furious about this. The whole time I was up there signing up, he was arguing with both my mom and me about how many classes I was taking. Even after I told him it was up to me, he continued to insist on taking more classes.
This post isn't about college or things like that though. This about what happened when he found out what kind of work I was doing.
He never really cared for the things I liked. He didn't like the things I watched, the music I listened to, or how I went about my business. He especially didn't like that I was working in a pharmacy. When he was sober, he was just not thrilled with it, when he was drunk or high, I was a pipeline for my mom to get whatever drugs he thought she was taking.
His favorite was to accuse me of stealing Demerol from the narcotic safe to give to my mom. While the "safe" (kind of hard to call an unlocked cabinet a safe) at the store I was at wasn't the most secure, there was still the matter of the perpetual inventory that was kept on all class II narcotics. If I had ever taken any Demerol (or whatever else he thought I was stealing), someone would notice.
He just didn't like what I did, was bitter towards my mom because she wouldn't get back with him, and generally wasn't in his right mind, which I fear has been permanently lost.
No, he wanted me to follow in his glorious footsteps as an iron worker.
Now, I have nothing against iron workers. I think a lot of them do a job that most wouldn't envy, whether it be on the ground or several stories up in the air. It didn't even have to do with getting dirty on the job. Hell, I probably could've dealt with the height issue for a good paycheck.
What worried me was how unstable the industry was. My dad was having a hard enough time staying employed (despite the drug/alcohol issue, he was an excellent worker) and jobs weren't exactly sprouting up. Sure, I could've taken an apprenticeship and gotten lucky, but it didn't look good. Most jobs were laying off workers or postponing work and many of the factories that produced steel were shutting down.
It just didn't seem like a very stable career choice and that's something I've always been conscious of. It's why I've stayed in the environment I've been in (although there's currently a saturation of pharmacy personnel).
My dad would try on occasion to convince me to try, saying the invitation was open as long as I was interested, but after a couple years, he finally dropped it.
Funny to think that a few years after that, the steel industry almost completely collapsed overall in the United States and iron workers were being laid off left and right. Granted, it's stablized in recent years as even my dad has at times gone back to work, but it's still not an industry I'd feel very good in.
I think if my dad hadn't gone down the road he went down and a lot of things had played out differently, I would have strongly considered the idea of following in his footsteps. There was a time when he was a good dad, someone I would've loved to look up to, but when he started to spiral out of control, that's when I stopped looking up to him.
Instead, he fell into the drug/alcohol addiction and to this day has been unable to turn things around. While things may not have played out exactly as I had envisioned, I don't regret anything that has happened.
I certainly do not regret the decision to avoid his footsteps.
Some have given me a little grief about it, saying I should let bygones be bygones, but it isn't always as simple as that. There are just some things that in my mind, are unforgivable, things that you just can't shrug off and say oh well.
My dad is the type where if you don't do things the way he thinks you should do them, he gets mad at you and tries to force you to.
Case in point: when I was signing up for classes initially after high school, my mom and I had talked about how many credit hours I wanted to take. I wanted to work as much as I could and figured since it was just Tri-C, I wasn't going to overwhelm myself right out the gate. In a couple years when it was time to get more serious about it, I'd cut back on work and pick up classes.
My dad was furious about this. The whole time I was up there signing up, he was arguing with both my mom and me about how many classes I was taking. Even after I told him it was up to me, he continued to insist on taking more classes.
This post isn't about college or things like that though. This about what happened when he found out what kind of work I was doing.
He never really cared for the things I liked. He didn't like the things I watched, the music I listened to, or how I went about my business. He especially didn't like that I was working in a pharmacy. When he was sober, he was just not thrilled with it, when he was drunk or high, I was a pipeline for my mom to get whatever drugs he thought she was taking.
His favorite was to accuse me of stealing Demerol from the narcotic safe to give to my mom. While the "safe" (kind of hard to call an unlocked cabinet a safe) at the store I was at wasn't the most secure, there was still the matter of the perpetual inventory that was kept on all class II narcotics. If I had ever taken any Demerol (or whatever else he thought I was stealing), someone would notice.
He just didn't like what I did, was bitter towards my mom because she wouldn't get back with him, and generally wasn't in his right mind, which I fear has been permanently lost.
No, he wanted me to follow in his glorious footsteps as an iron worker.
Now, I have nothing against iron workers. I think a lot of them do a job that most wouldn't envy, whether it be on the ground or several stories up in the air. It didn't even have to do with getting dirty on the job. Hell, I probably could've dealt with the height issue for a good paycheck.
What worried me was how unstable the industry was. My dad was having a hard enough time staying employed (despite the drug/alcohol issue, he was an excellent worker) and jobs weren't exactly sprouting up. Sure, I could've taken an apprenticeship and gotten lucky, but it didn't look good. Most jobs were laying off workers or postponing work and many of the factories that produced steel were shutting down.
It just didn't seem like a very stable career choice and that's something I've always been conscious of. It's why I've stayed in the environment I've been in (although there's currently a saturation of pharmacy personnel).
My dad would try on occasion to convince me to try, saying the invitation was open as long as I was interested, but after a couple years, he finally dropped it.
Funny to think that a few years after that, the steel industry almost completely collapsed overall in the United States and iron workers were being laid off left and right. Granted, it's stablized in recent years as even my dad has at times gone back to work, but it's still not an industry I'd feel very good in.
I think if my dad hadn't gone down the road he went down and a lot of things had played out differently, I would have strongly considered the idea of following in his footsteps. There was a time when he was a good dad, someone I would've loved to look up to, but when he started to spiral out of control, that's when I stopped looking up to him.
Instead, he fell into the drug/alcohol addiction and to this day has been unable to turn things around. While things may not have played out exactly as I had envisioned, I don't regret anything that has happened.
I certainly do not regret the decision to avoid his footsteps.
Thursday, May 17, 2012
The Sports Mixer: Where are the Indians fans; LeBron not only issue in Miami
Last night at Progressive Field, it was Puppypalooza, an event that allows you to bring your dog to the game.
It felt like there were almost as many dogs as there were actual fans, and given the 12,000+ attendance number, it wasn't as far from the truth as you might think.
The thing that I find interesting is the Indians are claiming there's a 4.5% increase in attendance this year, which isn't that impressive when you realize that they fail to draw 20,000 most nights even with that increase. The other sad part to this equation is that this is the second straight year they've had a reasonably strong start to the season.
No, it's not the 30-15 start they had last year, but 21-16 and first place is nothing to sneeze at either. The team plays hard, plays together, and has been in most ballgames even when they have lost.
In short, it's a good product to watch.
Last night against the Seattle Mariners, you had the pleasure of watching Carlos Santana score from second base on a pair of throwing errors, going airborne as he slid in safely ahead of the throw to Felix Hernandez.
Speaking of Hernandez, in his previous 10 starts against the Indians, he had gone at least 6 innings and allowed 3 runs or less each time. In his only prior start this year, he went 8 dominant innings in a no decision.
Needless to say, it was grim news learning he was pitching. Adding to the pot the news that it was Ubaldo Jimenez pitching for the Indians, and you didn't know what you were going to get. Was it going to be good Ubaldo, who shut out the Texas Rangers? Or bad Ubaldo, who was rocked by the Boston Red Sox?
In the first inning, Ubaldo allowed consecutive singles to start, threw a wild pitch, and allowed a run on a groundout. Then he shut the door on the inning, and in fact pitched a perfect second inning. Meanwhile, the Indians picked up 4 runs thanks in part to the Mariners deciding that they wanted to throw the ball everywhere except where it needed to be.
Then in the third inning, Jimenez reverted back to bad Ubaldo, allowing a two-run homerun. Luckily for Indians fans, that was the last run Jimenez, and the Indians for that matter, would allow. He ended up pitching six very good innings while the bullpen cleaned up after him.
In the meantime, the Indians offense cranked it up a notch in the fourth inning. Shin-Soo Choo singled, Jason Kipnis doubled, Travis Hafner doubled, Carlos Santana doubled, and Michael Brantley singled. In the end, four runs scored and the Indians had knocked Hernandez out of the game.
Hafner added a solo homerun later to give the Indians the final margin of victory at 9-3 as fans and dogs went home happy.
Which brings me to the main point of contention.
What is everyone's problem with the Indians? Why is a first place team (for the second year in a row) only drawing 14,000 fans on average?
Most use the cop-out that as long as the Dolans own the team, they won't show up because of the preconceived conception that the owners are too cheap and don't want to win. They feel by not showing up (and instead watching the Indians-owned STO to watch the game), they send the message they aren't going to take this anymore.
Some claim it's too expensive, which is a reasonable argument in some cases. Yes, baseball is much, much cheaper than going to a Browns or Cavaliers game, but the concessions are still expensive and that can add up quickly. Even so, you can get a good seat for under $30 so ticket prices being too high is a poor argument.
Granted, Cleveland has always been a football town first; how else does a team that perpetually loses in grandiose style sometimes still manage to sell-out year after year? The Cavs generated some excitement with the play of Kyrie Irving, so I can understand how they were able to draw decent crowds still, but people have always been lukewarm towards the Indians.
In 2005 and 2007, it took until after the All-Star break for fans to catch on. I remember this particularly well in 2007 as I had purchased a big bundle of tickets early in the year. For the first several games, attendance was in the 15,000-20,000 range, but by the end of the season, the games were nearly sold-out. Of course, having bought the tickets early on, I had good seats, but if I could tell the difference between a half-empty ballpark and a full one, you can bet the players can tell too.
It's just sad that fans fail to embrace the Indians when they're playing well.
Rachel and I aren't rolling in the money, but we still have managed to find our way to a few games last season and last night. How many we go to depends on how things play out, but for now, we're enjoying the early success of the team and hoping it stays that way through the summer.
LeBron not only reason for Heat struggles
I'm going to say something now that some might not like.
LeBron James is a great basketball player. He won a third MVP trophy this past season for a reason after all.
That said, he's still a despicable person for how he left Cleveland and how he's carried himself since. He has often disappeared at the end of close games going back the last few years, thus giving him the label of being a player that shrinks in the moment. He has certainly earned much of the criticism that he's received over the last two seasons for his play late in the game, but there's a part of me that feels it's just easy to dump on him when the Heat lose.
In game two against the Indiana Pacers, the Miami Heat were down two with James on the free throw line. He promptly missed both free throws, a problem he's had since he was a rookie in the NBA. He wasn't the only player to miss a free throw in that fourth quarter, nor was he the worst player on his team. In fact, he played better than his partner, Dwayne Wade, and the Heat bench didn't do the team any favors either, yet headlines in Cleveland were only mentioning LeBron failing in crunch time again.
Now, I'm not a fan of him anymore. But I'm not going to pile on a guy just because he's there, especially since he wasn't the only reason the Heat lost (perhaps the Pacers just played better this time?), and as one national writer pointed out, he isn't the only reason the Heat win or lose a game. Keep in mind, Chris Bosh is out indefinitely with an injury, which put even more of a burden on James and Wade.
So while some of the criticism is fair, some of it isn't.
That all said, go Pacers!
It felt like there were almost as many dogs as there were actual fans, and given the 12,000+ attendance number, it wasn't as far from the truth as you might think.
The thing that I find interesting is the Indians are claiming there's a 4.5% increase in attendance this year, which isn't that impressive when you realize that they fail to draw 20,000 most nights even with that increase. The other sad part to this equation is that this is the second straight year they've had a reasonably strong start to the season.
No, it's not the 30-15 start they had last year, but 21-16 and first place is nothing to sneeze at either. The team plays hard, plays together, and has been in most ballgames even when they have lost.
In short, it's a good product to watch.
Last night against the Seattle Mariners, you had the pleasure of watching Carlos Santana score from second base on a pair of throwing errors, going airborne as he slid in safely ahead of the throw to Felix Hernandez.
Speaking of Hernandez, in his previous 10 starts against the Indians, he had gone at least 6 innings and allowed 3 runs or less each time. In his only prior start this year, he went 8 dominant innings in a no decision.
Needless to say, it was grim news learning he was pitching. Adding to the pot the news that it was Ubaldo Jimenez pitching for the Indians, and you didn't know what you were going to get. Was it going to be good Ubaldo, who shut out the Texas Rangers? Or bad Ubaldo, who was rocked by the Boston Red Sox?
In the first inning, Ubaldo allowed consecutive singles to start, threw a wild pitch, and allowed a run on a groundout. Then he shut the door on the inning, and in fact pitched a perfect second inning. Meanwhile, the Indians picked up 4 runs thanks in part to the Mariners deciding that they wanted to throw the ball everywhere except where it needed to be.
Then in the third inning, Jimenez reverted back to bad Ubaldo, allowing a two-run homerun. Luckily for Indians fans, that was the last run Jimenez, and the Indians for that matter, would allow. He ended up pitching six very good innings while the bullpen cleaned up after him.
In the meantime, the Indians offense cranked it up a notch in the fourth inning. Shin-Soo Choo singled, Jason Kipnis doubled, Travis Hafner doubled, Carlos Santana doubled, and Michael Brantley singled. In the end, four runs scored and the Indians had knocked Hernandez out of the game.
Hafner added a solo homerun later to give the Indians the final margin of victory at 9-3 as fans and dogs went home happy.
Which brings me to the main point of contention.
What is everyone's problem with the Indians? Why is a first place team (for the second year in a row) only drawing 14,000 fans on average?
Most use the cop-out that as long as the Dolans own the team, they won't show up because of the preconceived conception that the owners are too cheap and don't want to win. They feel by not showing up (and instead watching the Indians-owned STO to watch the game), they send the message they aren't going to take this anymore.
Some claim it's too expensive, which is a reasonable argument in some cases. Yes, baseball is much, much cheaper than going to a Browns or Cavaliers game, but the concessions are still expensive and that can add up quickly. Even so, you can get a good seat for under $30 so ticket prices being too high is a poor argument.
Granted, Cleveland has always been a football town first; how else does a team that perpetually loses in grandiose style sometimes still manage to sell-out year after year? The Cavs generated some excitement with the play of Kyrie Irving, so I can understand how they were able to draw decent crowds still, but people have always been lukewarm towards the Indians.
In 2005 and 2007, it took until after the All-Star break for fans to catch on. I remember this particularly well in 2007 as I had purchased a big bundle of tickets early in the year. For the first several games, attendance was in the 15,000-20,000 range, but by the end of the season, the games were nearly sold-out. Of course, having bought the tickets early on, I had good seats, but if I could tell the difference between a half-empty ballpark and a full one, you can bet the players can tell too.
It's just sad that fans fail to embrace the Indians when they're playing well.
Rachel and I aren't rolling in the money, but we still have managed to find our way to a few games last season and last night. How many we go to depends on how things play out, but for now, we're enjoying the early success of the team and hoping it stays that way through the summer.
LeBron not only reason for Heat struggles
I'm going to say something now that some might not like.
LeBron James is a great basketball player. He won a third MVP trophy this past season for a reason after all.
That said, he's still a despicable person for how he left Cleveland and how he's carried himself since. He has often disappeared at the end of close games going back the last few years, thus giving him the label of being a player that shrinks in the moment. He has certainly earned much of the criticism that he's received over the last two seasons for his play late in the game, but there's a part of me that feels it's just easy to dump on him when the Heat lose.
In game two against the Indiana Pacers, the Miami Heat were down two with James on the free throw line. He promptly missed both free throws, a problem he's had since he was a rookie in the NBA. He wasn't the only player to miss a free throw in that fourth quarter, nor was he the worst player on his team. In fact, he played better than his partner, Dwayne Wade, and the Heat bench didn't do the team any favors either, yet headlines in Cleveland were only mentioning LeBron failing in crunch time again.
Now, I'm not a fan of him anymore. But I'm not going to pile on a guy just because he's there, especially since he wasn't the only reason the Heat lost (perhaps the Pacers just played better this time?), and as one national writer pointed out, he isn't the only reason the Heat win or lose a game. Keep in mind, Chris Bosh is out indefinitely with an injury, which put even more of a burden on James and Wade.
So while some of the criticism is fair, some of it isn't.
That all said, go Pacers!
Tuesday, May 15, 2012
Randomocity
I have been a horrible blogger this year.
I came into the new year with the idea that I would blog more this year. Then I decided once Rachel, Payton, and I were living together, I'd start blogging more. Then I decided once everything was settled in the new apartment I'd start blogging more.
Yeah, see what happened was, I didn't.
Yes, things have been busy. We had to decide where we were going to leave. Then we decided to get a puppy and name her Shenzie. That took time as we had to get her to stop peeing and pooping in the apartment (which has become infinitely easier now that we're on ground floor).
In short, it's been kind of hectic, but not too terribly bad either.
If I wanted to cover everything that's gone on since January, it would take several posts.
I would like to cover it all and get into a regular writing routine (complete with themes for different days like I originally wanted to do), but I'm not going to promise anything. Yes, Rachel has a laptop that I can use, but I don't like sitting on it and using it a lot since it's not mine, and lord knows when I start writing, I can get carried away in a hurry sometimes.
I've had a couple ideas for blogs too recently, so I would like to put those thoughts into words. One was going to be about LeBron James (I know, but I wanted to try to put it all into perspective and not just bash the guy again), another about how animals can bring both joy and heartbreak, and a few other ideas that have popped in my head.
There are of course things to talk about with the sports teams. The Browns just drafted 11 guys and a few are going to be expected to make immediate impacts. The Cavs just finished a difficult, but easier to watch season with Kyrie Irving leading the way (and winning rookie of the year; the way he handled himself this year itself is an entry itself), and the Indians again competing for the division with a good start to the season.
I could write about Minecraft, which I just got into and am admittedly addicted to. It's like playing SimCity and Zelda at the same time. That and watching the Rooster Teeth guys make a hysterical video about it shows how incredible this game can be.
**Intermission**
The video shows what happens when four guys who have never played the game try to take on a guy who has played it and knows what he's doing. In the end, the house the four of them built gets burned down after Gavin decides he's heard enough of their trash talk, gathers some lava, and dumps it on their house while they're not looking.
**End Intermission**
The thing that's scary about Minecraft is I haven't really done much in it, yet I've played for several hours now. In fact, it took forever for me to build my shelter because I kept changing how I wanted it to look, plus it took a minute for me to figure out what to build it with.
Yes, I know. I should be able to figure it out quickly.
But I don't play games a lot anymore, so when I do play, I don't typically have a ton of time to figure things out. I play by the seat of my pants so to speak, which means I died a few times because I didn't understand how the monster system worked, or how to sleep through the night to avoid getting massacred. In fact, it took a while for me to figure out how to make a bed in the first place.
Now I'm fairly deep into the crafting system and have dug a substantial tunnel under my shelter. I intend to keep on digging down until I can't anymore, hit a dungeon, or die.
All in all, things have come together pretty well. Shenzie is now like a normal dog, not completely timid and unsure of what's going on. We did attempt to rescue a puppy that was born unexpectedly at Rachel's work, but sadly, the pups we took did not make it, nor did the other two that were born the same day.
Rachel has been much happier since switching to a new job where the stress level is nothing like the previous job. My mom is much happier since she removed the leech from her home.
As I said, I do want to write more when I get the chance. There are always things going on to talk about and I've always been less stressed (not that I am now mind you) when I'm consistently writing about the things going on through my head.
It's just a matter of writing them out.
I came into the new year with the idea that I would blog more this year. Then I decided once Rachel, Payton, and I were living together, I'd start blogging more. Then I decided once everything was settled in the new apartment I'd start blogging more.
Yeah, see what happened was, I didn't.
Yes, things have been busy. We had to decide where we were going to leave. Then we decided to get a puppy and name her Shenzie. That took time as we had to get her to stop peeing and pooping in the apartment (which has become infinitely easier now that we're on ground floor).
In short, it's been kind of hectic, but not too terribly bad either.
If I wanted to cover everything that's gone on since January, it would take several posts.
I would like to cover it all and get into a regular writing routine (complete with themes for different days like I originally wanted to do), but I'm not going to promise anything. Yes, Rachel has a laptop that I can use, but I don't like sitting on it and using it a lot since it's not mine, and lord knows when I start writing, I can get carried away in a hurry sometimes.
I've had a couple ideas for blogs too recently, so I would like to put those thoughts into words. One was going to be about LeBron James (I know, but I wanted to try to put it all into perspective and not just bash the guy again), another about how animals can bring both joy and heartbreak, and a few other ideas that have popped in my head.
There are of course things to talk about with the sports teams. The Browns just drafted 11 guys and a few are going to be expected to make immediate impacts. The Cavs just finished a difficult, but easier to watch season with Kyrie Irving leading the way (and winning rookie of the year; the way he handled himself this year itself is an entry itself), and the Indians again competing for the division with a good start to the season.
I could write about Minecraft, which I just got into and am admittedly addicted to. It's like playing SimCity and Zelda at the same time. That and watching the Rooster Teeth guys make a hysterical video about it shows how incredible this game can be.
**Intermission**
The video shows what happens when four guys who have never played the game try to take on a guy who has played it and knows what he's doing. In the end, the house the four of them built gets burned down after Gavin decides he's heard enough of their trash talk, gathers some lava, and dumps it on their house while they're not looking.
**End Intermission**
The thing that's scary about Minecraft is I haven't really done much in it, yet I've played for several hours now. In fact, it took forever for me to build my shelter because I kept changing how I wanted it to look, plus it took a minute for me to figure out what to build it with.
Yes, I know. I should be able to figure it out quickly.
But I don't play games a lot anymore, so when I do play, I don't typically have a ton of time to figure things out. I play by the seat of my pants so to speak, which means I died a few times because I didn't understand how the monster system worked, or how to sleep through the night to avoid getting massacred. In fact, it took a while for me to figure out how to make a bed in the first place.
Now I'm fairly deep into the crafting system and have dug a substantial tunnel under my shelter. I intend to keep on digging down until I can't anymore, hit a dungeon, or die.
All in all, things have come together pretty well. Shenzie is now like a normal dog, not completely timid and unsure of what's going on. We did attempt to rescue a puppy that was born unexpectedly at Rachel's work, but sadly, the pups we took did not make it, nor did the other two that were born the same day.
Rachel has been much happier since switching to a new job where the stress level is nothing like the previous job. My mom is much happier since she removed the leech from her home.
As I said, I do want to write more when I get the chance. There are always things going on to talk about and I've always been less stressed (not that I am now mind you) when I'm consistently writing about the things going on through my head.
It's just a matter of writing them out.
Friday, January 27, 2012
Median=1.5, Dave=0
I was originally going to make today the first "Flashback Friday."
Actually, yesterday was going to be a "Thirsty Thursday" entry, but it was busy and I didn't get the chance.
Then today, I decided to introduce the front-end of my car to the median on route 2 coming into work, thus rendering myself without a vehicle until I determine whether it's worth fixing or if I'm going to be in the market for a new vehicle.
Yes, it was a bad morning.
Luckily, I was able to walk away with just a bruised knee, drive it to work, and not be late, so in those regards, I'm considerably lucky. Chalk it up to a little luck, wearing my seat belt, and not panicking when something bad is iminent.
Would I have liked to have missed the barrier? Yes. Would I have preferred that the side of the vehicle hit? Absolutely.
That said, none of that is what happened and now I have to move forward as quickly as possible. Granted, my preferred person to check on the vehicle is out of town until February 5th, so it may be a bit before I know exactly what can be done, if anything. At this point, I'm expecting the worst since that's typically what happens in situations like this.
*deep breath*
I'm lucky. I know that. Yes, the damage looks bad, but given that I was relatively uninjured, it could've been a lot worse. I could've hurt myself badly or even worse, I could've hit someone else and hurt them seriously as well.
It's funny, not in a haha kind of way mind you, how life will humble you just when you start to think things are lining up for you. I racked up over 9 hours of overtime this pay period, which was expected to help start saving towards the future with Rachel or at the least something for Valentine's Day. We had been talking extensively about where we are going to move after my lease is up. In short, the future looked very bright.
It still does, but there is this new situation to deal with. Sure, Rachel and I can share her Jeep to get around, but it will inconvenience her and I don't want to become a burden because of what happened with my car.
I admit, I'm used to things like this happening just when it seems like things are on the uptick. My life has been full of these moments. My family has experienced moments like this repeatedly. When my mom was in North Carolina, she was hit by another car and had her van totalled out. It took a minor miracle to get a new vehicle, but she was able to pull it off.
These things happen. You don't always understand the purpose or think it's fair, but to me, the best people are the ones who fight through the adversity and move forward. I'm upset that it happened, but in the long run, I'll survive. I'll find a way. I'm not in this alone because I have an amazing girlfriend, but she can't just fix this for me either. I have to deal with it, find a solution that works best, and move forward.
For now, I'm lucky to be able to say I walked away with just a bit of a bruised knee.
In the long run, I'll be just fine.
I know it.
Actually, yesterday was going to be a "Thirsty Thursday" entry, but it was busy and I didn't get the chance.
Then today, I decided to introduce the front-end of my car to the median on route 2 coming into work, thus rendering myself without a vehicle until I determine whether it's worth fixing or if I'm going to be in the market for a new vehicle.
Yes, it was a bad morning.
Luckily, I was able to walk away with just a bruised knee, drive it to work, and not be late, so in those regards, I'm considerably lucky. Chalk it up to a little luck, wearing my seat belt, and not panicking when something bad is iminent.
Would I have liked to have missed the barrier? Yes. Would I have preferred that the side of the vehicle hit? Absolutely.
That said, none of that is what happened and now I have to move forward as quickly as possible. Granted, my preferred person to check on the vehicle is out of town until February 5th, so it may be a bit before I know exactly what can be done, if anything. At this point, I'm expecting the worst since that's typically what happens in situations like this.
*deep breath*
I'm lucky. I know that. Yes, the damage looks bad, but given that I was relatively uninjured, it could've been a lot worse. I could've hurt myself badly or even worse, I could've hit someone else and hurt them seriously as well.
It's funny, not in a haha kind of way mind you, how life will humble you just when you start to think things are lining up for you. I racked up over 9 hours of overtime this pay period, which was expected to help start saving towards the future with Rachel or at the least something for Valentine's Day. We had been talking extensively about where we are going to move after my lease is up. In short, the future looked very bright.
It still does, but there is this new situation to deal with. Sure, Rachel and I can share her Jeep to get around, but it will inconvenience her and I don't want to become a burden because of what happened with my car.
I admit, I'm used to things like this happening just when it seems like things are on the uptick. My life has been full of these moments. My family has experienced moments like this repeatedly. When my mom was in North Carolina, she was hit by another car and had her van totalled out. It took a minor miracle to get a new vehicle, but she was able to pull it off.
These things happen. You don't always understand the purpose or think it's fair, but to me, the best people are the ones who fight through the adversity and move forward. I'm upset that it happened, but in the long run, I'll survive. I'll find a way. I'm not in this alone because I have an amazing girlfriend, but she can't just fix this for me either. I have to deal with it, find a solution that works best, and move forward.
For now, I'm lucky to be able to say I walked away with just a bit of a bruised knee.
In the long run, I'll be just fine.
I know it.
Wednesday, January 11, 2012
falling flat
I've never been short on ideas for blog posts.
In the past, I've come up with several good ideas. Sometimes I'd even get started on them for a while.
Then, after a while, I'd start to slack off for a while before the idea completely fell off the track.
Most of the time it's been due to lack of writing. I'd start off strong for a week or so, then the amount of writing would decrease slowly and surely as I just felt no motivation to go forward with the post. Often times, it's because the idea seemed really good in theory, but when it came to executing the idea, I realized it wasn't as good as I thought.
For example, back in 1999 when I was writing on my old web site, I was very much into the Indians and what appeared to be a season for the ages. Every time I wrote something, I finished with a recap of that days Indians' game. I'd give the score, the records, and a brief rundown of the game. I kept it up for half the season, then sometime after the All-Star break, I either lost interest in the idea or got sick of doing it.
It's kind of hard to remember at this point.
More recently, specifically last year's playoffs, I started to capsule previews of NFL playoff games all the way through the Pro-Bowl. I had some fun with it and was going to do it again this year, except, well, I didn't.
I can't really explain why. I kept thinking about starting it up, but then I wouldn't.
So now I have come up with a new idea for this blog. Or my pharmacy blog. I can't decide which to use it on, which would be the first issue since I can't use it on both and possibly give away what little anonymity I have on my pharmacy blog.
Hmm. That means I can't tell what the idea is if I intend to use it on the pharmacy blog because then when it shows up there, it would give away which blog is mine.
I guess I should've figured that part out first.
Oh well.
The idea revolves around a theme for each day of the week. For instance, I could call Friday Flashback Fridays and post some story from my younger years (which makes me feel old just writing that). Of course to do that requires me coming up with whimsical names (hey, Whimsical Wednesday?) for each day of the week and actually stick with it, which isn't likely. It also makes more sense if I write every day, thus justifying the different names for each day I post, but we know that won't happen.
In any case, that's an idea that's floating around in my head, partially because I have nothing else to do in my free time when I'm not with Rachel than to think of silly things like that.
Now then, back to the focus of the week.
Tomorrow is kind of a day of reckoning when it comes to Kisa. It's at least the first step in deciding what to do with her. Put her down and spend the next month remembering all the moments I've had with her? Keep her alive a little longer because her health isn't as bad as feared and do everything to make her remaining time comfortable?
It's kind of a troubling thing to think about really. I almost feel like a God wielding power over a helpless being. Whether she lives or dies is in my hands.
I've spent the last two days really thinking about all the things that have happened with her over the years. I'm not so much upset at the idea of her possibly being euthanized as maybe some might be, but that's mostly because I've already come to terms with the fact that one day she will be gone. I'm calm about it because as I've stated, she's given me almost 18 good years. It's more than I ever could've hoped for and I know I'll be making an informed decision, not just saying I'm done for the hell of it or keeping her alive longer than she should be.
Having Kisa has been an amazing experience. There's never been any doubts about her being my cat. When I've been gone for a couple days and come home again, she follows me around for a while. She's always slept either next to me or on top of me. When I sit down on the couch, she's right there looking for a lap to lay on.
One of my favorite memories is when we lived in Brunswick and I worked at CVS in Strongsville til 10. I had worked the same shifts for a while and my mom started to tell me how right around when I was supposed to be home, she'd go over to the front door and sit and wait for me. This went on for the longest time, at least up until I started hanging out with Mike regularly after work.
I apologize in advance if I spend a lot of time remembering things with Kisa.
I have almost 18 years worth of memories to possibly catch up on.
Oh, and don't hold your breath on the format thing for the blog. I'll probably forget by tonight anyway.
In the past, I've come up with several good ideas. Sometimes I'd even get started on them for a while.
Then, after a while, I'd start to slack off for a while before the idea completely fell off the track.
Most of the time it's been due to lack of writing. I'd start off strong for a week or so, then the amount of writing would decrease slowly and surely as I just felt no motivation to go forward with the post. Often times, it's because the idea seemed really good in theory, but when it came to executing the idea, I realized it wasn't as good as I thought.
For example, back in 1999 when I was writing on my old web site, I was very much into the Indians and what appeared to be a season for the ages. Every time I wrote something, I finished with a recap of that days Indians' game. I'd give the score, the records, and a brief rundown of the game. I kept it up for half the season, then sometime after the All-Star break, I either lost interest in the idea or got sick of doing it.
It's kind of hard to remember at this point.
More recently, specifically last year's playoffs, I started to capsule previews of NFL playoff games all the way through the Pro-Bowl. I had some fun with it and was going to do it again this year, except, well, I didn't.
I can't really explain why. I kept thinking about starting it up, but then I wouldn't.
So now I have come up with a new idea for this blog. Or my pharmacy blog. I can't decide which to use it on, which would be the first issue since I can't use it on both and possibly give away what little anonymity I have on my pharmacy blog.
Hmm. That means I can't tell what the idea is if I intend to use it on the pharmacy blog because then when it shows up there, it would give away which blog is mine.
I guess I should've figured that part out first.
Oh well.
The idea revolves around a theme for each day of the week. For instance, I could call Friday Flashback Fridays and post some story from my younger years (which makes me feel old just writing that). Of course to do that requires me coming up with whimsical names (hey, Whimsical Wednesday?) for each day of the week and actually stick with it, which isn't likely. It also makes more sense if I write every day, thus justifying the different names for each day I post, but we know that won't happen.
In any case, that's an idea that's floating around in my head, partially because I have nothing else to do in my free time when I'm not with Rachel than to think of silly things like that.
Now then, back to the focus of the week.
Tomorrow is kind of a day of reckoning when it comes to Kisa. It's at least the first step in deciding what to do with her. Put her down and spend the next month remembering all the moments I've had with her? Keep her alive a little longer because her health isn't as bad as feared and do everything to make her remaining time comfortable?
It's kind of a troubling thing to think about really. I almost feel like a God wielding power over a helpless being. Whether she lives or dies is in my hands.
I've spent the last two days really thinking about all the things that have happened with her over the years. I'm not so much upset at the idea of her possibly being euthanized as maybe some might be, but that's mostly because I've already come to terms with the fact that one day she will be gone. I'm calm about it because as I've stated, she's given me almost 18 good years. It's more than I ever could've hoped for and I know I'll be making an informed decision, not just saying I'm done for the hell of it or keeping her alive longer than she should be.
Having Kisa has been an amazing experience. There's never been any doubts about her being my cat. When I've been gone for a couple days and come home again, she follows me around for a while. She's always slept either next to me or on top of me. When I sit down on the couch, she's right there looking for a lap to lay on.
One of my favorite memories is when we lived in Brunswick and I worked at CVS in Strongsville til 10. I had worked the same shifts for a while and my mom started to tell me how right around when I was supposed to be home, she'd go over to the front door and sit and wait for me. This went on for the longest time, at least up until I started hanging out with Mike regularly after work.
I apologize in advance if I spend a lot of time remembering things with Kisa.
I have almost 18 years worth of memories to possibly catch up on.
Oh, and don't hold your breath on the format thing for the blog. I'll probably forget by tonight anyway.
Tuesday, January 10, 2012
trying to do what's right
There are certain things I don't take joy in writing about.
I like writing about sports, I like writing about stupid things I see on a regular basis, I like writing about the things I do with Rachel and Payton.
I like writing.
Just not when it involves the possibility of having to put my cat Kisa to sleep.
For those unaware, Kisa has been with me since I was 14 and a freshman in high school. I'm now 31 and she's still with me. She's older as well and it shows. She's been arthritic for a while, she's no longer really grooming herself, her appetite isn't good at all, and it seems as if she's trying to tell me something since she's taken to peeing on the floor in the spare bedroom randomly.
She's always occasionally peed on stuff for various reasons, usually her being mad at me for one reason or another. In the past, it was predictable. It was limited to towels and the occasional plastic bag. Now it's just straight onto the carpet and that's raised my level of concern greatly.
So what makes it hard to write about this?
I don't want to write some lengthy piece "remembering" Kisa before she's actually gone. On Thursday she's going in for bloodwork and that will determine the next step. If the bloodwork shows she has some serious issues, it's going to be time to put her down. If it doesn't, it's on to the next test.
I also don't want to be all sappy about it either.
What I refuse to do is what I've seen other people do in the past. I refuse to keep her alive just because I can't let go. I can't sit there and give her a ton of medications that "might" be making her better without really knowing for sure. I can't sit here and justify dragging it out when she's possibly suffering.
Do I think she's suffering? It's hard to say. I know she doesn't move the way she used to, but she doesn't give any solid indication that she's in pain. She doesn't whine or cry a lot when I'm home. She just kind of purrs, tries to lay in my lap, and after a while goes to sleep somewhere like she always has. She's very affectionate still with me. She doesn't act like she's in pain, but then again, neither did Shade before my mom discovered that he had severe issues with his leg.
The only way I'm going to know is by having some work done and see what the results are.
What I do know is I'm prepared for the worst in this case. I'm ready if the vet tells me that she needs to be put down. I'm not going to argue, tell them they need to do something to make her better.
I'm not going to.
My older sister is like that. Instead of doing what's best for the animal, she holds on and tries to sustain their life beyond what it should be. She does it thinking she's caring for the animal and being humane towards it, but she's really doing the opposite. She's making the animal suffer unnecessarily.
I won't let that happen.
Look, I've gotten nearly 18 years out of Kisa. She's been through a lot with me. I've chronicled a lot of it in the past and will do so again in the future, especially once she does die. There are a lot of memories, a lot of stories. She's been a great companion with me through a lot of ordeals. I can't ask for much more. The shame of it is it taking her til she was this old to get along with another cat like she does with Pook.
Granted, she did get along with one other cat in her time, but those moments were rare. Usually she was very territorial with me. Now she's just as likely to lay on Rachel, my mom, my sister, or Payton when she's asleep.
If the next couple of weeks are her last, well, then that's what's meant to be and I won't question it. I'll reflect on a lot of the things with her, but I won't regret anything. I won't be sitting there wondering if putting her down is the right choice.
Some won't understand the emotion behind a pet. Some of you won't get it. That's life. A lot of you will though. Whether it be a dog, cat, or whatever it is you own, a lot of you understand the bond that develops.
Funny thing with Kisa was I was so not a cat person when I got her. I was and still am a dog person. I liked cats, but I didn't have the same draw towards cats that I had towards dogs. My previous pet before Kisa was a dog named Jax. He used to pull me down when I was trying to put on my snowpants and drag me around the house. When my mom and sister would go sled riding, he used to pull them up the hills. He was a strong dog and he was a fun dog.
I wasn't old enough though to really grasp the responsibility needed to own a pet though.
Kisa was a definite surprise. A little white ball of fluff hiding under my bed, which at the time was in the living room. She wouldn't come out for anything, and thus began Kisa's long infamous antisocial bout. For a long time, she didn't care for anyone that wasn't my mom, Teresa, or me. Anyone else needed to back off and do so quickly. Even with us, she had a short fuse. If you so much as moved a centimeter while she was on you, she'd start growling.
It didn't take long for her to grow on me, which was the biggest surprise back then. Pretty soon, she was running the neighborhood. She chased all the strays away, killed all the rodents, and did her best to reduce the bird population.
Along the way, there have been a lot of adventures. I'll try to share some of them over the next few weeks depending on how things go with the vet. If things go well, forget it. I'm saving those stories until she reaches her dying days then.
I have to sell the sentimentality of it all, right?
Here's a teaser in fact.
One story involves getting her out of a tree. Another involves the fight that left her ear slit. Another is how she'd lay on my mom's shoulder when my mom was trying to study for school. There was the time my mom tried to give her a bath (that never happened again).
So while it doesn't bring me joy to think I might be remembering her soon, it was a great ride and I'll always remember her.
In the end, the memories will stay with me forever.
And that's what matters most.
I like writing about sports, I like writing about stupid things I see on a regular basis, I like writing about the things I do with Rachel and Payton.
I like writing.
Just not when it involves the possibility of having to put my cat Kisa to sleep.
For those unaware, Kisa has been with me since I was 14 and a freshman in high school. I'm now 31 and she's still with me. She's older as well and it shows. She's been arthritic for a while, she's no longer really grooming herself, her appetite isn't good at all, and it seems as if she's trying to tell me something since she's taken to peeing on the floor in the spare bedroom randomly.
She's always occasionally peed on stuff for various reasons, usually her being mad at me for one reason or another. In the past, it was predictable. It was limited to towels and the occasional plastic bag. Now it's just straight onto the carpet and that's raised my level of concern greatly.
So what makes it hard to write about this?
I don't want to write some lengthy piece "remembering" Kisa before she's actually gone. On Thursday she's going in for bloodwork and that will determine the next step. If the bloodwork shows she has some serious issues, it's going to be time to put her down. If it doesn't, it's on to the next test.
I also don't want to be all sappy about it either.
What I refuse to do is what I've seen other people do in the past. I refuse to keep her alive just because I can't let go. I can't sit there and give her a ton of medications that "might" be making her better without really knowing for sure. I can't sit here and justify dragging it out when she's possibly suffering.
Do I think she's suffering? It's hard to say. I know she doesn't move the way she used to, but she doesn't give any solid indication that she's in pain. She doesn't whine or cry a lot when I'm home. She just kind of purrs, tries to lay in my lap, and after a while goes to sleep somewhere like she always has. She's very affectionate still with me. She doesn't act like she's in pain, but then again, neither did Shade before my mom discovered that he had severe issues with his leg.
The only way I'm going to know is by having some work done and see what the results are.
What I do know is I'm prepared for the worst in this case. I'm ready if the vet tells me that she needs to be put down. I'm not going to argue, tell them they need to do something to make her better.
I'm not going to.
My older sister is like that. Instead of doing what's best for the animal, she holds on and tries to sustain their life beyond what it should be. She does it thinking she's caring for the animal and being humane towards it, but she's really doing the opposite. She's making the animal suffer unnecessarily.
I won't let that happen.
Look, I've gotten nearly 18 years out of Kisa. She's been through a lot with me. I've chronicled a lot of it in the past and will do so again in the future, especially once she does die. There are a lot of memories, a lot of stories. She's been a great companion with me through a lot of ordeals. I can't ask for much more. The shame of it is it taking her til she was this old to get along with another cat like she does with Pook.
Granted, she did get along with one other cat in her time, but those moments were rare. Usually she was very territorial with me. Now she's just as likely to lay on Rachel, my mom, my sister, or Payton when she's asleep.
If the next couple of weeks are her last, well, then that's what's meant to be and I won't question it. I'll reflect on a lot of the things with her, but I won't regret anything. I won't be sitting there wondering if putting her down is the right choice.
Some won't understand the emotion behind a pet. Some of you won't get it. That's life. A lot of you will though. Whether it be a dog, cat, or whatever it is you own, a lot of you understand the bond that develops.
Funny thing with Kisa was I was so not a cat person when I got her. I was and still am a dog person. I liked cats, but I didn't have the same draw towards cats that I had towards dogs. My previous pet before Kisa was a dog named Jax. He used to pull me down when I was trying to put on my snowpants and drag me around the house. When my mom and sister would go sled riding, he used to pull them up the hills. He was a strong dog and he was a fun dog.
I wasn't old enough though to really grasp the responsibility needed to own a pet though.
Kisa was a definite surprise. A little white ball of fluff hiding under my bed, which at the time was in the living room. She wouldn't come out for anything, and thus began Kisa's long infamous antisocial bout. For a long time, she didn't care for anyone that wasn't my mom, Teresa, or me. Anyone else needed to back off and do so quickly. Even with us, she had a short fuse. If you so much as moved a centimeter while she was on you, she'd start growling.
It didn't take long for her to grow on me, which was the biggest surprise back then. Pretty soon, she was running the neighborhood. She chased all the strays away, killed all the rodents, and did her best to reduce the bird population.
Along the way, there have been a lot of adventures. I'll try to share some of them over the next few weeks depending on how things go with the vet. If things go well, forget it. I'm saving those stories until she reaches her dying days then.
I have to sell the sentimentality of it all, right?
Here's a teaser in fact.
One story involves getting her out of a tree. Another involves the fight that left her ear slit. Another is how she'd lay on my mom's shoulder when my mom was trying to study for school. There was the time my mom tried to give her a bath (that never happened again).
So while it doesn't bring me joy to think I might be remembering her soon, it was a great ride and I'll always remember her.
In the end, the memories will stay with me forever.
And that's what matters most.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)