Leo's are supposed to like Red, right?
I'm a Leo, born in August and was told multiple times from women since I'm a Leo, my primary "power" color is red. I should look good in Red, and for a while I even bought into the hype and started buying and wearing a lot of red stuff.
My girlfriend and the time (you know, the one who won't accept my friend request on Facebook?) had a thing for the color blue. Of course she had some great blue eyes, which I'm sure had something to do with it. When I used to keep stuff at her place, she would always get something other than color blue for my stuff so we could tell whose toothbrush was whose. After some time, I gave up on the color red and started getting stuff that had blue in it. Even after we broke up, I continued to use blue as my primary color for all my toiletries. It was an easy way for me to keep track of my stuff. Don't know why it stuck, but it did. I kind of came around to seeing blue as a cooling, calming color so I've just stuck with it.
I know it was short, but it's still something interesting about me, one of my stranger quirks if you will.
It took a while, but my luck finally ran out
It must have been 1993 or 1994. Karis had moved back to Minneapolis with my son. She moved out and basically ended our relationship. I was living alone in a two bedroom apartment by myself and struggling to make ends meet to pay the rent. At the time, I was in a Pracs study and was complaining about my current situation. Of the guys in the study who was a regular I knew said he would be willing to live with me and split the bills and pay half the rent and all that jazz. At the time I was more concerned about paying the bills than really doing a background check on my new roommate. Boy, I should've known better.
the first month was ok, then it got bad
The first month was cool, bills got paid on time, rent was paid and everything was good. Then I noticed my new roomie "Darren" was using my soap, conditioner and shampoo. After a few weeks of going through my toiletries, I decided to keep my stuff in my room, out of plain site. At the time, we were keeping completely different hours. I was working during the day, then spending my nights at the computer lab toiling away on my senior dissertation as I was desperate to graduate and get back home so I could reconcile with Karis. Darren was sleeping in and not working (which was a bad sign) and staying up late. The only time we really passed each other was in the morning. He would be up at looking for a job, and I was heading off to work or class. This is just about the time the landlord started coming around looking for him.
Fall turned to Winter and he wasn't paying the bills. I found out he ordered some porn on MY cable bill. Then he wouldn't give me money for the bills for heat, water and the cable. I figured the easiest way to get him to pay was to just let it get cut off. I decided to continue paying for the heat for obvious reasons, but then he stopped paying rent.
Spiraling towards the end
After several months of bizarre behavior which included not taking showers, ordering porn and then trying to tag along with me when I went out, as well as leaving his "How To Pick Up Women" book laying around as well as constantly asking me to borrow him money, I knew the end was near. Even when his "best friend" showed up and I really had to make an effort to ditch them, I ran into them when I got home at 2am. They were still up and Darren's friend had pulled out his porno mags and then kept telling him he was a douchebag and an asshole. He started asking me if Darren had stopped paying his bills. I thought to myself, "oh shit, this is a pattern, time to get out while I can." and then proceeded to verbally tear him apart. He was pretty entertaining, but at the same time, it was very troubling for me. I knew this was not good.
At the time, I was only hoping I could get through the Winter and get home without any other issues. The landlord wasn't happy, and every day brought a new adventure. I started figuring out when he was coming and going and told the landlord. One frosty morning, the landlord was waiting for him and I swear I thought he was going to knock him right into the snowbank. A short stint delivering phone books kept Darren afloat long enough to pay the landlord and then flee town. You can't imagine the relief when you come home and your cowardly roommate has left. He moved out during the day without telling me. Just kind of fled the scene. by this time, I was close enough to finishing school, I really didn't care. I knew I could manage for another month or so until I could move out. About three days later, I put in my notice to move out.
There are very few things I remember about Darren, other than he was the worst roommate I ever had. I can only thank god it was short lived and nothing major happened.
I moved out and got back home. It was a rude awakening. When I get back to Minneapolis, Karis wasn't interested in dating or getting back together. This was the beginning several moves I made between Fargo and Minneapolis over the next few years. I finally moved back for good in January of 1997.
It's never been easy to say goodbye. .
When my son was younger, and his Mom was dragging me all over the country from Minnesota to Georgia to Missouri, I always had a tough time saying goodbye. I was usually cool and calm when I'd tell him I love him and see him in a few months again. By the time I got back to my car, I was in tears, convinced his Mother thought much about her son. To me, she always interested in her own agenda, and his was just being brought along for the ride.
Her exclusion of me from his life should be obvious to anybody. He was in and out of several schools until his Mother finally gave up and put him in a Military school for three years. Until they found out they were moving to Australia. Which brings me to today.
The last goodbye
I thought today was going to be tough, but I guess I've accepted the fact he's going away for two years. I'll most likely see him later this year in Hawaii. My Mom is already hard at work working on putting a trip together in November or January. I did I could today which was to hug him and tell him I love him and hope his collerbone heals up nicely. I also said we'd talk online with Skype when he finally gets over there. I just hope the next two years go a lot smoother than the last two at Hargrave. Lord knows he could use it.
On the way home. .
I told my Dad it was interesting to not feel the sadness and depressing feelings I had when we'd drop him at the airport when he was younger. I told him I thought Australia would be good, and he could finally get a good break and enjoy school, have a social life like a real fifteen year old kid and be able to enjoy the last of his teenage years. My Dad agreed and alsp mentioned he's older and more mature now and can take care of himself. When he was younger, it was easy to get emotional because he was still somewhat of a child. Either way, I wish him only the best.
I have no idea why I thought about this song, but I did. I thought it was strange, but it just reminds of me the situation - just so many vast differences between myself and his mother. .
I was expecting so much. . less
When my son showed up on Wednesday, I figured his visit was going to be a lot of the same old b.s. Sleeping in until noon, playing video games all day and only wanting to eat at McDonald's and go to R rated movies. I decided to plan out all four days to avoid such nonsense and make sure he was completely burned out by the time he left on Sunday. Things went better, but not at all as I had planned.
DAY 1
Pretty much what I had expected. Told him several times what we were doing all four days, in grave detail. I tell him we're going to ValleyFair at 10am, be ready to go Wednesday morning. I get a call about 10am telling me, "Daaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaad, I'm really tiiiiiiiiirrrrrrreeeeeeddddddd, can I sleep in a little later?" I knew immediately what this meant. No ValleyFair, maybe a movie later and dinner out. Fuck me, here we go again. I fault a lot of people for this happening. Number 1 his Mom for not getting on his ass and telling him he needs to get up early tomorrow morning. Number 2, my son for acting so disrespectful in the first place. that shit would NEVER EVER go with my parents. I started having those old feelings this was going to be another useless visit. I'm a man with a great intuition, the rest of the day would bear out my gut feeling.
Almost over before it started
Instead of going to ValleyFair (it was too late) I decided we'll just grab a movie and then go home for dinner. After the movie (SALT) which is one of the worst movies I've ever seen btw, I started telling him we would go to VallerFair tomorrow if it didn't rain. This is when the whinny, cry-baby tones started from him. "Daaaaaaaad, I don't want to go to ValleyFair, I don't want to go to the racetrack tomorrow with Grandma and Grandpa. I just stopped dead, since I was already pissed about how this visit had already started, I just looked at him and said, "Well then, why the fuck did you even bother coming? You KNEW what was going on, you're here to spend time with your family, if you don't want to do this, then I'll drop you off with your Mom tonight." To which I got the fifteen year old response, "Fine with me." It was a quiet ride home, and then I told him he was going to have to break the news to his grandmother why he wasn't staying.
The long meeting.
We spent almost an hour at my Mom's place talking about what was going on and why he was acting like he was. We agreed on some plans going forward and then we went home to catch dinner with his sister and step-mom. It was a close call, and I simmered down a bit after it was all over. Tomorrow would be a new day.
DAY 2
Once again, he slept in late and we decided we would run some errands and get some stuff he needed before going back home. It was a better afternoon. We talked about a lot of stuff and I finally felt like we were bonding like a father and son should. I opted out of the horse racing trip, but he said he had a blast. He didn't get home until 10:30pm and we chatted about how good of a time he had. I really felt like things had turned around.
DAY 3 - EXTREME WATER SLIDE
I told him didn't have a choice on Friday. We were going to the waterpark and he needed to shake his ass out of bed by 9:30am so we could get there on time. We got there and had a great time the first half of the day.I never thought I could walk so many stairs and still keep up. After we lunch we took a break and decided to ride some of the slides again.
We were riding a two-person raft right away and were having a great time. We were really pushing the envelope, he was leaning forward, getting the raft to go faster and having a great time. Then, he decided he wanted me up front and he would ride in the back. Fair enough. I was leaning forward right as we were coming out of a dip and into a turn. I must've been leaning too far forward. The raft lurched up the side and dumped us both out. I heard a loud "thud" behind me as I was spinning and sucking in water and tumbling toward the end of the ride. The ride spit all three of us out and I could tell he was hurting. He said he couldn't move his arm and his shoulder hurt. All I could see was a small red dot on his shoulder where he must've landed. A lifeguard came over and asked if we needed help and finally told us to go the first-aid station. I asked him if he thought we needed to go the hospital and he said, "yeah". By the time we got out to the car, I could tell he was in a lot of pain. When I went to put him in the car, his collerbone was really swollen up, and black and blue already. I knew then it was bad.
Hospital, X-Rays and the final verdict
After a few calls to Bren and his Mom, we got to the ER, got him x-rays and the doctor came in after a few minutes to give us the verdict. Broken collerbone, right in the middle. He gave us some Vicodin and an immobilization sling to keep his arm in the proper position. Karis (his mom) took it all in stride. As a former athletes, we both had our knocks and broken bones. He was pretty pissed. No LAX for 6 weeks. Tomorrow was the going away party, my birthday party and my parents 42nd Anniversary all rolled into one party. We were supposed to play golf, but it wasn't going to happen now.
The big party
Nothing much to say about the party other than everybody had a great time. We took lots of pictures, had Famous Dave's catered in and told some great stories. It was nice to have my son spend some time with his extended family.
Sunday. . the last day for two years. .
All in all, the visit I thought went better than I expected. He spent time with his little sister (she adores him) and he had a great time with his nieces when they went to the race track on Thursday night. In my next post, I'll talk about my feelings when he left and what to look forward to in the future.
Never thought it would be this hard
I thought blogging everyday for a year would be fairly simple. Since I'm a night owl, I'd whip out some short, easy posts and them pick a deeper topic when I had time. The subtle mix should be easy to pull off - right? W R O N G.
Once my son showed up, I figured I'd write while he was busy playing video games. Then I realized I have to get up with our 3 year old daughter, which essentially rendered my easy writing schedule at night - dead. There was no way I was going to stay up until midnight writing some deeply intellectual post, then get up at 6:30am when my daughter got up.
In short, I'm starting to understand how really hard it's going to be to keep up a rate of one post per day - including the weekends. So once again, here's three posts to make up for this weekends post on Friday, Saturday and today.
By the time I realized it. .
It was already 10pm and I needed to get up early tomorrow. In lieu of these circumstances, this is a "quickie" post. It fulfills my 365 challenge so I'm good.
For the past few years, I've lost track of one of my favorite bands - Fear Factory. After some researching, it seems the band has undergone some pretty tough times.
Although Digimortal had a successful start, the sales did not reach anywhere near the levels of Obsolete and the band received little tour support. The direction of the album coupled with strong personal differences between some of the band members created a rift that escalated with time, to the point where Bell announced his exit in March 2002. The band disbanded immediately thereafter. The band’s contractual obligations remained unfulfilled however, and Roadrunner did not release them without controversially issuing the Concrete album (originally from 1991) in 2002 and the b-sides and rarities compilation, Hatefiles in 2003.
During his time away from Fear Factory, Bell started his side project along with John Bechdel, called Ascension of the Watchers, who released their first EP, Iconoclast, independently via their online store in 2005.
First return (2002–2003)
Over time, it emerged that the rift between the members was largely between the guitarist Dino Cazares and the other members, particularly Bell.
Cazares was the first to speak out after the break-up, proceeding to make claims and allegations against Bell and the other members in May 2002 in a Blabbermouth.net interview.[10] Almost all of these allegations were subsequently addressed and refuted by Herrera in a counter interview,[11] speaking on behalf of all the other members.
Olde Wolbers and Herrera got back together later in 2002 and laid the foundations for what was to become the return of Fear Factory. With Cazares now permanently out of the line up, Bell was approached with their demo recordings and was impressed enough to rejoin the band and Fear Factory was formed once again. Christian switched to guitar and Byron Stroud of Strapping Young Lad was approached to join the band as their new bassist, and has been their bass player since 2003.
Dino Cazares has continued recording and performing with his side project called Asesino, a Mexican deathgrind band featuring Tony Campos of Static-X on vocals. In 2007, he also started a new group called Divine Heresy, featuring Tim Yeung, formerly of Hate Eternal and Vital Remains, on drums.
Fast forward to 2010
this issues have basically persisted to the present day and right now it's just a stalemate between several of the members. Bell just decided to push on with new members and recently released their latest album "Mechanize". I'll have to hear the whole album to give an honest review, but here's a little taste:
So far, I like it, but we'll see after I've heard the whole album.
In the beginning . . .
I dated a girl named Kathie M. when I was a sophomore at NDSU. I fell in love pretty quickly and it was a very turbulent relationship. We broke up several times, but always got back together. A lot of times, we fought about stupid things. She was pretty jealous and it got to a point in our relationship where we couldn't be at the same party together. She would get so jealous if she saw me talking with another girl. It was a pretty crazy first year we were together. The summer came and I went to go visit her a few times. One the of the last times, I drove three hours to see her, only to have her parents make her break up with me. Needless to say, it was a LONG ride home. I thought it was over, but it was only just the beginning. .
Over the summer we stayed in contact and I found out her parents were letting her move up to school early to move into an apartment. We made arrangements for me come and visit. The two days I was there were completely awesome (i.e. LOTS of sex) she thought since we couldn't stay away from each other, we should get back together. It was great for a few months, then the fighting started back up again. I also brought her home to meet my parents and my parents and my sister had mixed reviews of her. Then, during the winter, I caught her cheating. Not like I "thought" she was cheating, but completely red handed with some half naked dude in her bed. I just told him, "Have fun man, she's a total whore!" then walked out of her apartment. This is where it started to get interesting.
This is when she started playing games with me. Telling me she wanted to get back together and she still loved me and all that b.s. I figured, "Ok, let's play some games then." Within a week I was dating two women and trying to keep up the facade of getting back together with Kathie. I creatively let Kathie find out I was dating another woman, which played right into her jealous nature. She freaked out and really laid the honey on thick. Calling me, coming over un-announced, all kinds of stuff to try and get back in my good graces. I relented (since one of the girls was a total fucking psycho, which is another story altogether) and we got back together. I figured this was the 8th or 9th time we had broken up and gotten back together. I was such a sucker.
This next time we lasted a little longer, but the summer was good, but too long. I separated my shoulder, she moved into a different apartment and we both were working way too much and not seeing each other. As Fall wore on, I pushed my luck when she broke up with me shortly after she moved into a house with three of her close friends. Two of which were not fans of mine. I decided this was my last chance to stay together, so I borrowed a friends credit card and purchased a diamond ring. Then I went over to her place and proposed to her. After a day of thinking about it and having a full on committee with a bunch of people, she returned the ring and I figured that truly was the end. Once again, I was wrong
Post breakup, & Summer Companionship
We had broken up and I had already moved on (after getting my heart ripped out for two years, it didn't take much to get over her) and had started dating another woman (another great story btw) when I started seeing her out randomly here and there. She would leave me messages on my car since we parked in the same lot at school. Then the summer came and her serious boyfriend left to go home. She stayed in Fargo. We had been together a few times (I mean, we had SEX) when she got lonely. On the same day her boyfriend left, she was in my bed that night. I'm pretty sure that was the last time we were together, but later on, she did tell me one interesting thing.
All of that. . for this?
What I suspect is the reason why she won't accept my friend request? The same reason her boyfriend errrrrrrrrrrr husband still hates me (even after some 20+ years). He feels threatened. She must have told him at some point, because I'd seen him out at the bar a few times with her during that summer and all he did was glare at me, then they'd get into some fight and leave the bar. All to my great amusement. The other funny thing was my new girlfriend loved making her uncomfortable. One time after we had started dated, my new girlfriend found out Kathie was in the bar and couldn't wait to see her. We were talking and as she walked by, their eyes locked on to each other. Then my girlfriend leaned over and laid a deep wet kiss on me and made sure Kathie saw it. It was one of those moments you can't make up. It was pretty awesome.
I don't expect to ever have her accept my friend request, since her husband would probably blow a gasket, which is something I take great pride in.
You know you're in trouble when
You wake up in the middle of the night and you're in so much pain, you can't go back to sleep. I've come to realize the body has a unique early warning system when something isn't right. My turn to get face-to-face with my own warning system came at 3:30am, July 25th, 2010. I attempted to ignore the pain and go back to sleep. Thankfully, my body did not listen to me and my pain started to increase. At which point I got out of bed and went out to the couch to spare Bren my tossing and turning which surely woke her up. 90 minutes later and after thinking, "I'd better go in, just to make sure, remember what happened to Mike, don't be stupid." Mike, was my nephew who ignored the pain and had his appendix burst while he was at home. My brother-in-law found him, face down in the fetal position, unable to move because the pain was so intense. Several surgeries and hospital stays later, and he's finally recovered. It was enough to motivate me to inform Bren I was going to the ER to get checked out.
On my way over to the ER, I remembered my 6th grade heath teacher Mr. Kenyon trying to explain, in grave detail, the pain of having an appendicitis "attack" as he called it. Guess he wanted to instill in us how bad it would be. His words were something to the effect of, "You'll know when it happens, imagine someone taking a long sword and stabbing you in side of your torso - repeatedly. Trust me, you'll know it when it happens." As I looked around the room I saw several of my classmates wincing in pain and crumpling their bodies up in weird positions. Now, as I drove to the hospital, I knew what he meant. My pain seemed to be radiating across my whole lower abdominal area. If I took the time to breathe deep and relax, it felt just like he described it. Sharp, deep pains to the right side of my torso. Not very comfortable at all.
Luckily for me, the parking lot was empty when I got there. I reasoned there weren't a lot of stabbings, shootings and other mayhem on Sundays like there normally are on Friday or Saturday night. Last time I had to come to the ER, it was on on a Friday night. It was total chaos. Parking lot was full, cops and ambulances were everywhere, people almost stacked up in the waiting room. Cops arresting people while they were getting stitched up. As a morbid person, there is a certain humor that goes with someone getting handcuffed after getting stitches for doing something stupid. In any case, it was front row parking for me. I went in and explained what was going on. The staff did a great job of getting me in and set up with a bed. They said the doctor would be in shortly to ask me some questions and to try and relax.
When you're in pain, sometimes a friendly face can make all the difference
I'm in my room, thinking about a possible surgery for an appendicitis, and then the doctor walks in. It just happened to be the same doctor that treated me when I injured my shoulder playing hockey several months back. She recognized me right away and asked what it was that had brought me back to the ER. I described my predicament, and she said would do anything to help me out. She left and several nurses came in and started hooking me up to fluids and taking my blood and doing all kinds of other things. About ten minutes later, I felt that unmistakable rumble in my gut. I panicked and started furiously pushing the nurse button. A few minutes earlier I had told the nurse I was feeling a bit nausea and she gave me a bag and quickly exited the room. Now, I knew what was coming and I grabbed the bag and let loose with my dinner from the previous night. I had to sit there for several moments before the nurse finally came in the bag. Of the whole experience, this was my lowest point. The nurses quickly gave me some anti-nausea medicine. They prefaced it with, "They give it pregnant women, it's really safe." Of course the nurse came in and said I needed to take some "contrast" drink so they could do a CAT scan and make sure it was indeed my appendix. This, probably ten minutes after I blew chunks. I was in no mood to hear that, but after another ten minutes, I swallowed my pride and sucked both glasses down. A few minutes later, I was off to get my CAT scan.
The Family shows up
After I got back from the CAT scan, I was feeling better (probably all the drugs they were pumping into my body.) I got a text from Bren, her Mom had come over the watch Kenz and she was on her way over with my Mom and Dad. It was good to see them. My Mom hung around until they transfered me to an upstairs bed after determining it was indeed my appendix and it will have to come out. I was told when I got transferred I should be in surgery by 11:00am. The doctor has one big surgery, then I'd be next in line. It was 9AM.
The time comes, then goes. .
Around 10:00am, the nurse on duty came around and started prepping me for surgery. She put these weird wraps on my legs to increase my circulation. I was thinking, "Hey lady, I'm a hockey player, I have great circulation in my legs!". Nonetheless, she strapped em' on. A few more warm blankets and suddenly 11:00am came and went, then noon, then at 1:00pm, the nurse showed up and told me they had a gunshot victim and so this person needed surgery right away, and as soon as they were ready, they would come and get me. It was now 1:00pm.
I don't think there's anything worse than sitting around waiting to get operated on. As a rookie in the whole surgery thing, I was tough to sit around for so many hours thinking about what was about to happen, Watching "Welcome Home Roscoe Jenkins" wasn't taking my mind off of the surgery. Having Bren there helped a lot. Another 4 hours drifted by, and at 5pm, the nurse finally came and got me. They wheeled me out and down to the operating room. I guess they have an "on deck" area where the nurses started briefing me about what was about to happen. In another few minutes, the doctor would show and we'd be a go.
Surgery. . finally
12 hours after I had first showed up in the ER, I was now being prepped by some veteran nurses for my surgery. They all had a very light hearted attitude, which was comforting to me. They really soothed my fears as to what was about to happen. The doctor finally showed up and explained what was going to happen. They were going to make three incisions. One in my belly button, one near my pelvic bone and one on my left side. They'd remove my appendix and within about an hour, the surgery would be over. He left to go get ready and the nurses then explained what was about to take place. They were going to give some oxygen and then some anesthesia and within seconds, I'd be out cold. A little more light conversation, then it was game on. They brought me into the operating room, got me on the table, strapped down my arms in the "Jesus Christ" pose as I called it. For a brief moment, I thought to myself, "Is this is what it's like when you're about to be put to death?" Morbid, I know, but it's what was going through my head, the nurse then said she was going to start the oxygen and put the mask over my face. I instantly switched to thinking about McKenzie, my family and my parents. I remember my Dad telling me the nurses told him to think of positive things when they were about to put him under for his surgery, so I was doing the same thing. Then everything went black.
Recovery, the long night away from home, then home at last
I woke up to double vision. Trying to focus was not a good thing to try, but I felt comfortable. The nurses told me the surgery was a success and I did well. My face was itching like crazy and I was in some pain. I try several times to open my eyes, but the double vision wasn't working, so I just closed my eyes and waited till I got back to my bed. Bren waited about another hour to make sure I was ok before she left to go home. She planned on picking me up the next morning after I was discharged. Needless to say, it was a L O N G night. I didn't get much sleep, but the nurse on duty overnight was a real doll. She continually checked in on me and keep getting me warm blankets and kept refueling my ant-pain medication which was a godsend. I barely slept and usually slept only about 45 minutes at a time.By the time 3:30am rolled around, the nurse wanted me to get up and try to go to the bathroom. I said I didn't need to go, but I was warned right before surgery how important it is to get your body functioning again since they pretty much shut your body down during surgery. I reluctantly got up and ambled into the bathroom. I pulled my gown up and waited for what seemed like an eternity. Then I started to pee. Then I stopped. Then it felt like fucking razor blades coming out. I started thinking to myself, "I swear I'm never making fun of those urinary flow commercials EVER again. I can't imagine what it would be like to have this condition all the time. After a short pee, I was thankful to lay back down and pass out for another 45 minutes. By 9am, I had sent a text message to Brenda they were getting ready to discharge me. I would have to eat breakfast first. I had pancakes and eggs along with some water After my discharge, Bren rolled me in the wheelchair to the parking ramp where I got up and walked the rest of the way to the car. I was happy to be going home.
As much as I was told it would be a quick recovery, it took several weeks before I was really feeling good enough to start doing normal thing again. I made the mistake of attempting to mow the lawn a few days after my surgery. I was soooooooooo sore afterwards - but it was a good lesson not to push it.
All in all, it was an interesting experience since I had never had surgery before. For all the after effects, I still give credit to the doctors and nurses at Park Nicolet Medical Center, they really calmed my fears and made the experience quite bearable.
