Strawberries.

This blog post is about what a pasty, no-tan, white guy I have become.  No joke.  I need to go tanning in a major way.  

I think what bothers me the most about it is the fact that I used to be tan.....once upon a time.  Before I moved to Utah, I spent a lot of time outside playing football and at the beach surfing and boogie-boarding.  I was your typical blue eyed, blonde haired California surfer kid.  Then I moved to Utah, and things changed.  I swear it was the Utah sun that did it to me.  Suddenly, my complexion decided that it would just take after the Irish and Danish side of my genes.  Forget the French or Indian side.  Who needs a tan?  Not this guy.  Now, I've kind of turned into a giant strawberry.  That is the only way I can describe it.  My hair has turned more of a strawberry blondish color, and my complexion is definitely that of a strawberry as well.  And let's not even talk about my beard.  It's almost completely red.  If I am in the sun, I don't tan.  I just burn, and turn a darker shade of strawberry.  Temporarily of course, and then I go back to my normal pasty and strawberry self. 

Perhaps I should get a tanning pass.  I've done that before, but don't recall having much luck.  Perhaps I should just accept my pasty skin and flaunt it.  Perhaps I should even learn to love the new nickname a couple friends have given me.  Shortcakes.  That's not so bad, is it? 

No Politics.

I have avoided saying much of anything about what happened in Connecticut a few days ago for a reason.  Everybody seems to have an opinion about it.  A lot of people just seem to want to cause contention and spark debates.  Arguments.  Hear my argument.  Shock and awe.   The more I've kept it to myself, the more it has bothered me though.  I don't think anyone on this planet can fathom the reality of what has just happened.  Perhaps only those who have just lost their children, or Sisters, Wives, and Mothers.  Perhaps those who just lost their son and Brother.  I think that this is something that everyone needs to talk about and get a grip on.  It IS reality, and this really did just happen.  People need to heal, and we all need to learn how we can help to prevent anything like this from happening ever again, because history has shown us now that it will continue.

20 sweet and innocent little children ages 6 & 7 were just murdered.  Shot.  Shot multiple times while they were at school.  This kind of thing has happened before at High Schools, on the streets, and even Jr. High Schools.  Who could have possibly predicted this?  20 small little kids and 5 of their teachers and faculty at the Elementary School, and let's not forget the killers Mother.  Little is known about Adam Lanza's motives for this heinous act.  What we do know is that apparently he had a form or Autism, was quiet and mostly kept to himself, and was a genius.  And no one ever suspected that he could be capable of such an act. 

The news of what occurred on Friday, December 14th, 2012, literally made me sick to my stomach.  I cried.  I wept when I heard and read the news of what happened that day.  I wept for the families who lost their loved ones.  I wept for the survivors.  I wept for the first responders who had to see such a horrific scene in person. 

People.  I am NOT a dude that cries.  I am, however, a Father.  My Preslie is 5 years old, and about the same age as the children who were gunned down in their classrooms.  All I could see was my sweet little Angels face as I scrolled through the pictures of the victims.  That could have just as easily been her.  Those parents and families will never see their babies grow up, or even smile again.  And they had no idea.  No idea on that morning that they were saying goodbye for the last time as they dropped them off to school.  No idea as their wives left for work that morning, that it would be the last time.  The end. 

Friday was the first time that Preslie has seen me cry.  I didn't have the heart to tell my 5 year old about the horror that had just occurred.  I don't want her to know about it.  I don't want her to be afraid, and lose her innocence. 

It has been on my mind now ever since.  What is the last thing I said to Preslie when I dropped her off?  What if that was the last time I ever saw her again?  What if something happened to her, completely out of my control, and I did not get to hug her or kiss her or be with her again?  Did I tell her that I love her enough?  Did I show her enough?  Does she know?  She is my world, and I don't think I could make it without her.  I am so deeply saddened for the parents who have lost their little Angels.  I can't imagine the heartache and pain they are feeling right now.  I just hope that they know that the world is feeling it with them right now, and that they are not alone.  If anything, this tragedy has shown that the world is not all bad.  There is good among us.  There are monsters who are capable or horrific things too, but they will never be the majority.  If anything, I have seen the world come together with love and compassion for those in need.  Not everyone, of course.  But by far the majority.  I hope that we can continue to work together and make something meaningful out of this.  Hug our children a bit tighter every day, and not forget why. 

I'm not writing this so that it can be shared and debated.  These are my thoughts and opinions.  I think everyone needs to talk about this though, and work through it.  One way or another. 

Workout. Goals. Week 1.

I've got some big goals and ambitions.  Physically, I have had a rough year or two.  I've been pretty sick a few times, had two surgeries, and hit my all time fattest as well.  The worst of it was probably the back surgery.  That one really slowed me down for a bit.  Not only did it hinder my motivation to go to the gym before the surgery, it also removed my ability to go for awhile thereafter.  Weight aside, I went through a period earlier this summer where I felt more out of shape than ever before in my life.  I had never been that soft before.  Flabby.  I didn't like it.  

After I got back from my trip to Ireland in June, I started to slowly make my way back into the gym.  It has been a pretty slow process, because I have to be very careful since the surgery on my back.  I had basically blown out my L2 disk in my lower back, and the little disk material that was left was effectively dead.  The Dr. had wanted to do a Spinal Fusion, but decided against it because I am still relatively young.  He said that eventually I will have to get that done, but they would rather not do it right now.  Because of this higher risk, I need to be especially careful with my back and avoid herniating that disk again. 

At the peak of my flabbiness, I weighted about 220 lbs.  I could barely bench 125 lbs, and had gone up to a 38" waist.  If I tried to do any cardio, I would break into a dripping sweat after about 10-15 minutes.  Gross. 

Thanks to a severely hardened sense of determination, things have changed.  I also owe a lot to a couple of my amazing friends who have helped to motivate me and joined me in the gym.  Randy and Ikaika, you guys are my boys!  Thank you!  I wouldn't go as far as to say that I am content with where I am at now, as I still have a ways to go before I reach my goals.  However, it is important to look back at the progress we make sometimes and recognize how far we've come. 

Currently,  I weigh about 205 lbs.  My last bench was 225 lbs.  I'm back down to a 34" waist.  I now include at least 30-45 minutes of cardio with each workout, and am hardly breaking a sweat anymore.  The weight isn't really important to me, because I understand that muscle weighs more than fat, so I am likely to put on a little more weight as I increase my muscle tone.  I feel good.  That is the most important part. 

My cardio health is finally doing a lot better.  My next big goal is to really strengthen my core.  This is going to be pretty tough for me.  Not only do I hate doing core work, it is also probably the hardest for me to work, because of my back.  A couple of months ago, I bought this really good Core Workout book.  Now I just need to use it.  I'd like to get my core back in shape, and finally have that 6 pack again.  My last goal is to get my bench up a little bit more.  Before I started going to school, my max bench was 310 lbs.  That seems so far off now.  I'm not sure that I'll ever quite get back to there, but I do want to get my max bench back up to at least 275 lbs.  Why?  Just because. 

So next step, how do I get there?  For the most part, I've been pretty consistent with making it to the gym 2 times a week.  I need to dial that up to 3 times a week now.  I am going to break my routines down as follows:

Day 1:   Chest & Back & Cardio
Day 2:   Cardio & Arms & Core
Day 3:   Shoulders & Legs & Core

Nutritionally, I have just a few basic goals for improvement.  First off, I need to drink less.  I have mostly cut hard liquor out completely for now.  I'm trying to drink more water every day.  I also have way too much salt in my diet, so I'm trying to cut back on that as well.  I have a daily vitamin I'm taking now, along with getting more protein in.  

I would like to reach these goals by next summer.  I know it's going to be a lot of hard work,  but I am determined.  With the early onset of the snow this weekend, I've been reminded that I'll be indoors a lot for the next 4-5 months.  I've never been a big skier, and still have never been snowboarding either.  Outside of work, you will likely find me one of 2 places.  Out and about with Preslie when I have her, or at the gym.  Tomorrow is week 1 of my new resolve and new routines.  Time to get fit.

Simple Truths

People do get lonely.  Especially when they are deprived of being with the ones they love. 

For me, this was a simple truth that took a long time to understand.  I didn't really understand this, until my Grandma passed away.  I remember so much about how she used to be.  When I was little, we would go to visit Grandma Taylor's house, and she was just so full of love.  She had an amazing way of making you feel like you were wrapped in it the moment you stepped into the room with her.  She loved all children, and was just a great Mother in every sense of the word. 

Years before she died, she had a stroke.  The stroke changed things pretty drastically.  She lost the use of one side of her body, had trouble with speech, and also getting around after that.  She had to be shuttled around in a wheelchair, and it was not easy for her to get around after that.  Over time as she got older, her physical health seemed to deteriorate bit by bit.  The hardest part for me was seeing her this way.  You could look at her, and she would make eye contact and you could tell she was still the same Grandma, but she was frustrated.  Frustrated with her body that no longer worked the way it used to, or even cooperated to perform basic tasks anymore.  Through it all, my Grandpa was there taking care of her.  He was completed devoted to her and took care of her every need.  Quite a few years passed, and then about 2 years ago she finally passed away.  I got a phone call from my Mom, who had been there taking care of her since my little Sister Angela had died in 2006, and she let me know that Grandma had just passed.  I didn't live that far away at the time, so I rushed right over there.  For some reason, I guess I didn't expect that she would still be there, and that the funeral home would have already been there.  That was my first time being around a body after someone had passed right away.  To be honest, it kinda weirded me out a bit.  Why?  I have no idea.  I sat down by her in her room and held her hand for a bit, then went out and joined my Aunt Lenore in the living room once the funeral people arrived to take her away. 

Now let me just say that even though this was an incredibly emotional and sad time for me, I am just not a cryer.  I very rarely cry for any reason.  Another one of my many oddities I suppose. 

However, as the gentlemen were starting to wheel my Grandma out of the house, I remember hearing my Grandpa say, "Wait!  I need to give my Sweetheart a kiss goodbye."  For some reason, that did it for me.  My Grandpa is one of the best men I have ever known.  Never said a single curse word his entire life.  Not even Damn.  Always treated his kids with love and my Grandma was always his Sweetheart.  I totally cried it out for that one.  He just seemed so lost after she passed.  It made so incredibly sad to see him that way.  After that I just didn't know what to do.  I started looking for things to do around the house, and ended up going on the roof to clean out his gutters.

Now here is where the simple truth comes in.  Even though my Grandma did not pass away until the summer of 2010, in a lot of ways, she had not been his companion for quite some time.  Their companionship had not been the same in the later years after her stroke.  I can only imagine how hard this must have been for both of them.  Even though he took care of her through the end, I can imagine how lonely he must have become.  Especially once she passed.  This is why it did not surprise me in the least that he "got out there" and started seeing an old girlfriend again.  He desired that companionship.  He was lonely.  I have never for a second felt that he was dishonoring my Grandma's memory in doing so either.  The sad thing is, I imagine that it did hurt a few of my other Family members feelings though.  All in all, I want my Grandpa to be happy, and understand his desire for companionship.  I understand that some people just don't get that.  Some people are die hard romantics at heart, and believe that once a loved one passes away, maybe they should live in solitude so as to honor the memory of that loved one.  I get that.  Is it easier for men to find companionship after a loved one has passed as opposed to a woman?  Perhaps.  I just know it doesn't diminish their love.  What is so strange about my 80 year old Grandpa acting like a teenager again, and wanting to cuddle up on his couch with another Grandma lady? 

After all, people do get lonely.  Especially when they are deprived of being with the ones they love. 

Sleep to dream.

When was the last time you had a vivid dream?  A dream that you remembered after you woke up.  The kind of dream that you remembered days later. 

The majority of the time, I do not dream.  I imagine that I do have dreams, but nothing that I ever remember.  I typically go to sleep, then wake up in the morning, with no recollection of what occurred in between. 

So the other day, I woke up from this dream that was so realistic and vivid that it took me a little bit to figure out that I had been dreaming and was now awake.  In the dream, a couple of days had passed too.  I was waking up in the dream, and then going about my day as usual.  Only it wasn't my life.  I had a wife, who I apparently knew but did not recognize her face.  I also had 2 more kids.  Preslie was there, but she was a couple years older, and I had 2 more kids.  One was a boy who was toddler age, and the third was just a baby, but I don't remember if it was a boy or a girl.  I never quite saw that ones face.  In the dream, I had just woke up on a weekend, and had a bunch of yard work to do.  Preslie and the little Boy were helping me, while my wife was inside with the baby.  Before too long , it was getting hot, so we decided to go to the beach.  Apparently we lived by the beach. 

At the beach, my wife and I were teaching Preslie and the little Boy how to boogie board.  Everyone was having so much fun, but then I noticed it wasn't sunny anymore.  I started getting worried about how grey the sky looked, because apparently that meant a tidal wave was coming.  Then we left the beach, and Preslie was pretty sad about it, and cried the whole way home.  Since she was crying, the baby started crying.  I remember it being a really long car drive home.  Finally, we got home and it was time for bed.  I read all of the kids a bedtime story, tucked them into bed, and then snuggled with them until we all fell asleep.  For some reason, the kids all slept in one big giant bed.  I remember being really tired, but was so happy snuggling up with my kids and seeing their sweet little faces. 

Eventually, I woke up, but I was back in my bed.  It was Sunday morning, and Preslie was sprawled across my bed, snoring away.  When I first woke up, I started looking for my little Boy, and was worried that he had fallen off the side of the bed since I didn't see him.  Then I realized I had just been dreaming.  I of course was happy to see Preslie, but was a bit sad and disappointed.  It's weird how dreams can do that to you.  In a dream, you aren't just caught in the moment of what is happening right then and there.  It can almost seem that there is a back story, and a history that happened prior to that moment.  As if you've lived another life.  Kinda weird.  Makes me feel like I'm missing something.  I never imagined that I would only have one kid, or that I'd get divorced for that matter.  I always imagined I would have at least 3-4 kids of my own, and I've always kinda felt like there was supposed to be a boy in there somewhere.  Now I'm single, and Preslie is 5.  She'll be 6 years old next year.  I can't even imagine starting over.  Getting married again...having more kids, and changing diapers again seems crazy.  Perhaps I've lost my chance.   Perhaps things were supposed to be different, but choices and fate have dealt me a new hand.  I haven't decided if that is a good thing or not.  It's hard not to feel like something is missing in my life.

Once upon a time....

Today is Burklie's 12th birthday.  Earlier I was thinking about her and wondering how she is doing.  I don't get to see her very much anymore, and it makes me sad.  I can't believe that she is 12 already.  When I first met Burklie, she was only 3 years old.  She had really short hair, and the cutest little elf ears I had ever seen.  I'll never forget her tiny little voice, and how clearly she spoke.  She was always such an intelligent girl.  Amazing at memory games too.  She could play the memory card game and would win every time.

Burklie will always hold a really special place in my heart, because she was the first of Mandie's girls that I really got attached to.  I will always love all of them, and they will each hold a unique place in my heart forever.  Burklie loved to be with me, and always wanted to be close to me.  She would ask to come with me everywhere, even just quick trips to the store.  She absolutely melted my heart.  Rylie had just turned a year old, and Kalie was 9 years old when I started dating Mandie.  Rylie was just a baby, and was always easy to love.  Kalie was more shy, quiet, and guarded.  As such, she was slower to ever really accept me into her life.  Burklie on the other hand, had nothing but love for me right from the beginning.

She is such a sensitive little girl.  Always has been.  Admittedly, I struggled at times with Burklie the most as well.  If I even looked at wrong, she would burst into tears and it would seemingly break her little heart.  As she grew older, I could see more and more similarities between her and her Mother.  I had a really hard time with this, as they weren't necessarily my favorite personality traits.  To be completely honest, she would kind of drive me nuts some times.  She was always so dramatic.  On the girls birthdays, I would get them flowers.  Burklie always enjoyed this the most.  She loved the attention.  I would also try to take all the girls on individual Daddy-Daughter dates when I could.  I usually needed to take Burklie first, because she would cry and cry if she thought she was being left out.

When Burklie turned 8 years old, we lived in Washington, and she decided that she wanted me to Baptize her.  That was an enormous honor, and it really meant a lot to me.  I was excited to be worthy, and have that opportunity.  I made sure to get her Father's permission, as I felt it was his right to do this.  He ended up doing the confirmation portion, and I did the Baptism.  The next year we moved back to Utah, and moved into my in-laws place.  That was a pretty rough year on everyone.  Mandie and I separated 2 times during that year, and eventually got divorced.  It was especially rough on all of the girls.  I had been their Dad for 6+ years, and then suddenly I wasn't anymore.  When we separated the second time, it stuck.  Eventually Mandie would file for divorce, and cut me off from the girls completely. Our divorce took close to a year, and was pretty ugly.  It was final in March of 2011.  Since then Mandie has remarried, and only occasionally now do I get to see any of the girls.  I see Preslie, obviously, as it is my legal right to do so.  But unfortunately, I do not have the legal right to my other girls.

Today Burklie is 12 years old.  She is starting to grow into a young woman.  She likes to listen to The Used and Neon Trees as well.  She likes boys.  She has grown up a lot in the past couple of years, and I haven't been there for it.  I really hate that.  I miss her and her sisters so much, and hope they all remember me and the part I shared of their lives.  I have high hopes for Burklie, and worry about her often.  I hope her memory serves her well, and that she remembers how important and loved she is.  She will always be my sweet little Bundle Face.

Don't act like you aren't impressed...

So last night I had a bit of a "double-wide" experience.  It was definitely kind of ghetto, and the more I have thought about it today, the more I feel like I should feel embarrassed.  I don't though.  I kind of think it's funny.  Maybe that is what makes me think it was a "double-wide" experience. 

After I got off work yesterday, I made a quick trip to the store.  I came home, emptied my dishwasher, then threw another load of dishes in there again.  After that, I decided I would get some work done on my blog.  It was kind of warm in my apartment so I thought, what the hell, who needs clothes?  I live alone.  My blinds are shut.  Naked Tuesday it is!  Well, just boxer briefs, because that would be weird.  I turned my TV on, at the normal volume level, and started typing away.  About an hour later, I got hungry, so I ordered some Papa Johns and had it delivered.  It was a great bachelor dinner.  Papa Johns garlic & Parmesan bread sticks, and some nice cold Blue Moons!  I was relaxed, and it was a nice and quiet night.  Or so it seemed....

Suddenly, I heard a really soft knock at my door.  I was a bit surprised, because it was pretty late.  About 11:40pm to be exact.  I think I was about 3-4 adult beverages in at that point.  I jumped up, and went downstairs to the front door.  When I opened the door, it revealed 2 Police Officers.  Dude Police Officers to be exact.  I slowly started to ask them, "Hellllllloooo, what can I do for you?" 

Police Dude #1, "We got a call that there was a party going on.  Complaint about loud music, or perhaps a TV."

Me, "Right......I don't have any music on, just my TV.  I didn't think it was too loud..."

Police Dude #2, "Yeah, we've been standing outside your apartment for about 5 minutes or so before we knocked, and couldn't hear a thing."

Me, "I haven't touched the volume since I turned it on about 3 hours ago either.  You're welcome to come in and see if it seems to loud from inside if you'd like."

Police Dude #1 looked at me a little funny, then stepped past me into the entry way.  He stood there for about 15 seconds and listened, and then said, "I can barely hear your TV at all right now.  How stupid.  Doesn't seem like a problem to me."  Then he stepped back out. 

Police Dude #2 said he needed to get some basic information from me.  He asked me if I lived here, my name, date of birth, and my phone #. 

It was right at that moment, that I realized I was standing there on my porch, wearing nothing but my underwear, probably with gross garlic / adult beverage breathe, and I was giving my phone # to this Police Dude.  I laughed, then told him my number.  He asked what was so funny, so I told him, "This would probably make a pretty good COPS episode..ha ha ha."  They kind of laughed, then told me to enjoy the rest of my night, and gave me a funny look and left. 

Good times.