Tuesday, July 26, 2011

My light will shine in the dark.

Therapeutic post, Take 2.

I got my groove back. My motivation. It's burning within me again. I wish I could thank a friend like Josh Morris, or Gary Williams (if you haven't seen these two people's before and after pictures, OMG!) but it wasn't them. It was, the one and only, Captain America. More so, a mixture of Dylan, Jeremy, a few girls, and Captain America.

Several days ago, when the siblings and myself were hanging out at my mom's house, a commercial for Captain America came on. We watched it, Dylan and I giggled just counting down the clock to when the movie would premier and we could watch the film. The scene where he comes out of that machine shows him ripped. If you haven't seen this scene yet you live under a rock..
Anyway, the dudes in shape, CRAZY in shape. My heart both drops because I don't look like that, but beats slightly faster because of the envy I have towards him. The want to look like him just stirs in me. I happened to say out loud, "Man I wish I could look like him."
Jeremy, being a realist, goes, "That's difficult to do, you gotta realize they pay him to train probably 8 hours a day between shoots and give him all of the perks to do so."
I had to agree, after all, I saw that man in the Fantastic Four, he was thin then.
Once again my heart drops, Jeremy's comment just makes that goal my envy self made that much farther from reaching.

Fast forward about two weeks. I'm sitting at my desk at work, twiddling my thumbs or playing on Facebook, when Dylan sends me a text, "In line to see the midnight premier of Cap'." I groan and tell my co-workers, they groan with me. Anyway, I tell Dylan to have fun and leave it at that.
A couple of hours later, Dylan texts me again, "Awesome movie! Movie makes me want to be a super hero!" Now, for those who read the previous posts, Dylan's logical, very logical. Something like this text really set me aback, because he just doesn't think like that. How GOOD could this movie be to make him fantasize about heroism?

After work (the next day), I meet up with my friend Ace and we see the 8:05AM movie of Captain America at AMC. That same scene of when the Cap comes out of his transformation ripped and ready for action, Ace whispers to me, "he's really hot." and later says it again, that its hot that you can see his abs through his white shirt.

A few days later I see a movie with another friend. She says the same. Exact. Thing. Almost exact anyway, close enough it caught me off guard.

That same day, after I saw the movie, I saw that same scene on a commercial, and instead of being envious, my brain went competitive. 
Why couldn't I look like that? Why CAN'T that be my goal? Sure I would have to do more proper planning, more work out, and better dieting, and that's a far off goal, but that can STILL be my goal.

I can show Jeremy that I can do that, despite the trainers and free nutrition the actor received.

If Dylan can be inspired to fantasize about the what-if of being a super hero? Why couldn't I take that a step further and try to look like him?

And I want to be attractive in that way towards women. I mean, don't get me wrong, my self esteem is through the roof, but that instant "I want you now" look is just something unavailable to most guys, (damn those accents.) 

There was one last thing.. I watch Extreme Makeover: Weight loss edition (FANTASTIC SHOW btw) to try to help motivate me. The quick rundown, its about obese people getting into shape. Now I'm not Obese, but, at the same time, my goal isn't to necessarily lose weight, just gain the right weight.
One of the guys on the show said, "I get knocked down and I just got right back up, every time I failed just made me want to succeed more."
And that really got me going... I know I have failed at nutrition and exercise multiple times. But I had succeeded once, and I can succeed again. I am not going to let my past failures bother me anymore, I am going to use them as fuel to make me succeed this time.

I'm taking a small hiatus from Arizona and visiting a friend in Oklahoma for a few days. When I get back, I get serious. I will have just gotten paid, its the month of my birthday, and its a starting point. A solid fond farewell to fast food and junk food. 

I have chosen to start another blog strictly for weight/workout related things. I will leave the link at the bottom, but its to document my progress, keep me on track, and allow friends and family to keep tabs on me. You don't need to follow it as I will probably post one-three times a day (I'm hoping). Any crazy posts will probably be documented here as well anyway.

I will probably post something next Tuesday, till then I'm out

"My light will shine in the dark, while yours will dim in weakness as my wings take flight before your eyes!!" - Brenda's favorite quote. (Original source: Unknown)
~Just a thought.

EDIT: www.projectme-shepsus.blogspot.com is the workout blog, for those interested.

Monday, July 25, 2011

Linda Pierce

Mrs. Pierce.. My 5th grade teacher. I can almost remember every student in that class.. Almost. It was by far my favorite year of elementary school, and I love Mrs. Pierce like you would a grandmother. She is one person my buddy Daniel and I wanted to introduce to all of our friends. She has always been so proud of us and she has literally watched us grow up since before teen years.

I remember a time when Daniel and I were trying to come up with words, make them up and give them meaning. Daniel came up with feezshes. It was short, clever, and it was OURS! We used it for anything, far better than cussing (which we didn't do at the time) and it was amusing to us. Daniel ended up using it in class one day and Mrs. Pierce freaked out! He appeared to be in trouble and we didn't know why, after all it was our word, right? Well, when she understood that we REALLY didn't mean anything by it, she grabbed a dictionary and showed us the definition of "feces" which at that time neither of us really knew the word... Needless to say, we were embarrassed and stopped using the word.

The other thing she stressed was cursive. Always cursive. To this day I still impress people because that's how I write when I have a pen. I just find it neater, smoother, and all around nicer looking. It is scary to say that some people can't read my hand writing because it is in cursive..

While she worked at Knox elementary Daniel and I would visit her from time to time. We ended up becoming known to quite a few of the teachers there. Half because we talked to them with Mrs. Pierce and had had them as teachers, and, well, when you see a couple of older teenagers struttin' their stuff right after an elementary school lets out, some teachers aren't comfortable.

Needless to say, it came to the point to where we knew the staff IN the office, and all of the teachers  in Mrs. Pierces building. There was a time Daniel and I had a half day in high school, so we went DURING class at Knox. We received guest passes ONLY cause we knew the front desk lady, she called Mrs. Pierce and let her know we were coming. We ended up helping out throughout the class, and ended up playing basketball with them during recess. It was a ton of fun, but some of the staff were uncomfortable with it and we weren't allowed to do it again.

Every time we are there, she asks about my and Daniel's family's, she knows both our older siblings and younger. She used to ask how my dad was doing during my parents divorce, and about Dylan, seeing as how he was the youngest at the time during my parents divorce.

She was the person to make me fall in love with the Phantom of the Opera story. I have read the book, seen the silent black and white movie, the old school remake, and the newest one because of her.

I have both her house number and cell number saved in my phone, and I know she has mine. We were supposed to do lunch, the three of us, about a year ago, but we never got around to doing it. I guess I should give her a call.

"Say you'll share with me one love, one lifetime. Lead me, save me from my solitude. Say you want me with you here, beside you. Anywhere you go let me go too. Christine, that's all I ask of you."
-The Phantom in Phantom of the Opera

~Just a thought

Friday, July 22, 2011

The musings of a BFG - Big Fr**ndly Giant.

You know that therapeutic-ness that I talk about through my posts? Yeah, its time for one of those. I want to iterate that this isn't a call for help or advice, just typing of things that go through my mind frequently. Very frequently.

I am lazy. I wipe my brow (shame) when I type that. It's just something that I am not proud of. It's a mix of several things of course, but it becomes difficult as to where to begin. To list them as a three pronged thesis statement, it comes down to healthy habits, exercise, and work ethic.

First off, healthy habits. I separate healthy habits and exercise for a reason, but I'll get to that in exercise. My healthy habits aren't habit forming. I try, and try, and try, over and over and over again. I can stay healthy for a week, feel healthier, feel better. But for some reason I get extremely lazy. Fast food is cheaper and quicker, doesn't require any REAL work from me and it fills my belly. I have tried so many times, that most of my friends and family don't go, "Great job!", instead they reply, "How long do you think it'll last this time?" I know they jest, but it really sucks feeling like they don't support my endeavor. And just KNOWING that I can't stick with it. I am at a place in my life where I have been blessed with a lot of time and I'm not constantly broke, why can't I go out to Sprouts and purchase fruit and vegetables a second time? Why don't I have the desire to make my own food, such as smoothies, fruit salads, chicken salads, and salads in general.. Just reading over the list of foods I provided, they are all cold, whereas I prefer hot food. Maybe.. Just MAYBE, that's it? Anyone know of some easy-to-make hot and healthy dishes? Lemme know. But I used to be able to do the healthy thing for a long time, no problem, made all my own food and had no want for fast food cause the food I make tastes better and is better for me.

Second, is exercise. I have the shoes, shorts, protein shake and now the partner.. See, I am really good at making excuses for myself nowadays. For the longest time I chose to not go to the gym because I felt I couldn't be pushed because I didn't have a partner, which is partially true. Thanks to Jake, I have a partner now. For those of you who don't know Jake, he's a very fit police officer. A month ago we chose to partner up, cause we both need motivation. I even told him specifically that if I slack off on a day, keep inviting me, cause I *want* to do this. Very first day he ran me through his workout routine, took an hour, and I could only do a fraction of what he did. My god was I sore, but my god did it feel good. We planned on meeting up two days later (one day for the abs to recover) to go running. Now, I'm not a runner, and I am very intimidated by Jake because he can literally run 8 miles, but I know he's my friend and won't berate me for running a half and needing to slow down. I canceled on him cause my computer broke, that, my friends, is as a legitimate excuse as I can give.
Fast forward to now... We have only worked out on that day where he showed me his work out.. Why? Well, computer, and then he went on vacation for a week.. But the other two weeks? They were me. I overslept on almost all accounts. I *know* I should prioritize working out with Jake, but things always "came up" or I stayed up too late and needed sleep for work. I know I am purposely  sabotaging this partner because I need a reason to be lazy. And I REALLY wanna change that. Going a step further, I have time to step away from my desk whenever I want. I used to leave my desk at 2:30am (the reminder still goes off on my PC) and head to the front room and push out 20 push-ups and 30 crunches/sit-ups. Took fifteen-twenty minutes tops. Then I'd just walk back to my desk. I stopped doing that. Why? Well, my reason is because I will workout with Jake this week, which I then oversleep. See? Excuse after excuse. I had ridden my bike once to work, loved it, was there on time, felt my legs a wee bit sore, but I have only done that once, I have always left "too late" to ride my bike now. I'm telling you people, self-sabotage.

Third is work ethic. I could probably run my shift by myself with one other person as backup in case I got too busy. Since there is normally three of us to divide the work, you can imagine I have quite a bit of time on my hands to kill. I talk to friends on facebook and gmail, read a few technical news articles that interest me, and I watch movies on Netflix and TV on Hulu when time permits. Again, ALL while at work. But I keep looking at what I want to learn, what I want to do with my life, (still choosing between Windows administration and Linux/Unix). Everything that I could learn over the web, I tell myself, "I'll check that out at work," but when I'm at work, I go, "I'll read it in a little bit, this movie looks interesting!" and it never gets read. Seriously, three e-mails in my inbox RIGHT now from Active.com. Furthermore, my work has this FANTASTIC deal with CBTnuggets.com. They can get any training information that I desire in the technical field and give me access. I *know* this is available to me for learning, I *know* I have time to kill at work anyway, but I can't seem to bring up the desire to watch those boring educational 20 min movies. To go along with this, if I choose to go back to school, something I am always thinking about in the back of my mind, I could do the majority of my homework at work. But the hassle with loans and classes, and paragraphs scare me. Damn those facebook posts that read, "Just finished my 15 page paper on _______" I don't think I could ever do that. Most of my 5 PARAGRAPH papers were full of BS. 15 pages? Pfft...

Anyway, to sum it up, I am lazy. I am motivated with no desire. I think the good news is is that I know this, and I have the strength to change, I just need to find the will (I need to find Will). I asked my friend Leasa once, what it was about me that made me so happy. She said it was a really broad question, but it probably had something to do with my house that I rented and my dogs. She also assured me that that I could figure it out. The next day I went and helped my dad carry an A/C unit up the side of a mountain, and afterward, covered in sweat and grime, I smiled. Physical labor seems to make me happy. Pushing myself physically seems to be key. Then it hit me, the work on the house and walking my dogs every day seems to make me happy. I wrote a quote, a while ago, to live for someone else's joy, and you will have joy yourself (the condition of love, as it were). I did that for a long time with my dogs. I lived FOR them, worked, bought amazing dog food, walked them every day, took Linux hiking till I nearly had to carry him out. And I was happy cause he was happy. He knows that he can interrupt my computer game, climb onto my lap and just sit. That brings me joy. Maybe one day I will raise my eyebrows (genuine surprise) as I look in the mirror and see the ME I want.

Still round the corner there may wait
A new road or a secret gate,
And though we pass them by today,
Tomorrow we may come this way
And take the hidden paths that run
Towards the Moon or to the Sun.

- The Fellowship of the Ring (book)
~Just a thought.

EDIT -- Check this out.

Thursday, July 21, 2011

Ken Magnum

Outside of my family, this man is probably the most influential person who I have ever come across. He is the biggest reason why I am in computers today. Ken always has a view of "the big picture" of life. Though I would never choose to trade lives with Ken, I would love to have just a fraction of his experiences.

He started out as my teacher my sophomore year in high school. My buddy William told me he was an awesome teacher and boy was he right. I ended up having two classes with him that year, A+StRUT and Networking. His teachings were beyond computers though, he was all about business and life. He questioned a lot of our morals by asking, "If you were guaranteed to be successful at a bank robbery, would you go through with it." Most of the class said yes, I mean who wouldn't want large amounts of money? I, on the other hand, said no. Then he asked me why and continued to see if I would change my mind. I'm happy to say that I didn't budge, and he was happy I could stick to being the black sheep and not give into peer pressure. I remember another time when a student named Dean was in the class.. Now  Dean and I didn't get along during high school. We've known each other since first grade, live two doors down from each other our whole lives, and used to be best friends, it didn't end up that way. Trying to be mature and wanting to avoid any confrontations, I told Mr. Magnum about our distaste for each other. So, being the good, mature teacher that Mr. Magnum was, he assigned us different tasks on opposite ends of the room, right?
Mr. Magnum said OK, and at the start of the class, he rearranged seats so I sat next to Dean. Throughout the year, any errand Dean or I needed to run he sent both of us together. At the time I was quite annoyed, but looking back I understand. Any of our previous fights were pointless cause we needed to work together. Furthermore, the fights were quite stupid and childish. I never thought you could teach maturity, but he sure as hell put ours to the test. And we are friends and get along together today.

During one of our class sessions, a spokeswoman came in to our class and told us about the technical school she works for. Right then and there I was hooked. I signed up and I actually enrolled before I graduated. I remember having Ken's number and calling him on my cell after my first day of class, and I told him that thanks to him, I am now enrolled in Computer Networking and Security at High-Tech Institute.

Fast forward to halfway through my college career. I get a call from Ken. He says he is looking for an IT professional and wanted to know if I'd be interested in the position. He said that it would be half maintenance of the daycare his wife ran, along with making house calls to the businesses he had on contract. The very next day I quit Wal-mart and started working for Ken Magnum for Phoenix Digital Fortress. My company car was his, a 2008 Dodge Charger fully loaded. He had to calmly remind me that going 20 over the speed limit was a federal offense. We worked on mostly everything together, from painting to hedge trimming and other maintenance on the daycare. And then heading to customers home's to set up VPN's. He gave me a lot of freedom on when and how I worked, priorities, and every job was different than the last. He still was a mentor first over boss though, I remember one day we were outside painting the fence of the daycare and I wasn't in the best of moods. It was hot and I was an IT man painting! I was slightly frustrated with this and expressed it to Ken. He replied with a quote I'll never forget, "What are you talking about? This is the meaning of life Brandon." I ended up looking at him quizzically. "If this is your biggest worry and your biggest bother, than your life is probably a pretty damn good one." Now, I have brought that quote with me wherever I go. It makes petty bothers and annoying tasks easier, because there could be a LOT worse situations, a LOT of bigger problems.

As you can probably tell throughout the post, I have switched from Mr. Magnum to Ken. It took me nearly half of my time working with him to switch from Mr. Magnum to Ken. I always called his wife by her first name, along with everyone there, after all, I was an equal employee with equal responsibilities. I eventually DID make the switch though, and now I find it amusing when his former students (my classmates) call him Mr. Magnum, whereas I call him Ken.

I am saddened to say that I was still immature during employment, and to me it was a job, not a career. I slacked off and I know I didn't live up to his expectations. He wanted a pupil, someone to take over the actual work side of Phoenix Digital so he could focus on other aspects of what he wanted to accomplish and I let him down. I even called out on my last day. If I could go back and change it I would. I don't think that I would have stayed working for him for a dozen other reasons, but being lazy was not the impression I wanted to leave.

"The meaning of life is painting a fence" - Ken Magnum
~Just a thought

Tuesday, July 19, 2011


I thought about making separate posts for the siblings that have effected me in extraordinary ways. However, the ones I'm closest to have effected me in similar fashions, and I don't want to be repeating myself. There is one sibling who stands out in my mind.

Dylan Hoffman is one of nine brothers (11 siblings) and he has probably effected me most. He still has, what I call, fallen morals. Morals that every male (and every human being) should instill into their lives. He's a gentleman to every lady who encounters him. Old school gentleman too. He shows me what I used to be and why I should still be that way. I've seen Dylan unhappy before, but he doesn't bitch or complain ever. He's very logical. I remember one time, I go over to my moms after he had some VERY major surgery on his mouth, (As to why, that's a story you'll have to ask him.) Anyway, I go over to see him cause I know he's miserable. I ask him if he needs anything, and of course he says no. I let him know that if he needs to vent or bitch or complain, that I'm here for him. He just simply shakes his head and replies, "Complaining doesn't do anything for anyone. There is no progress in complaining." ..... Even though I think complaining makes ME feel better, he's got a valid point. Now, he doesn't mean valid issues, but just plain complaining to complain. He just refused to do it. The final thing Dylan taught me (which surprises me even now) is that there are different forms of happiness. Looking back it seems stupid. But I always thought that what makes *me* happy, is what others desire to make them happy too. Being in shape, being good at something, and being included are the BIG three for me. So, naturally, I always tried to include him in what I was doing, always tried to get him to come out and work out with me and Tylor, walk with us, do SOMETHING. I never believed him when he told me he's happy where he's at physically (which is thin) and he doesn't mind NOT being included in every little thing, he enjoys self-projects. I basically refused to believe that until recently. So thank you Dylan. It made me think as to what really made me happy, and I think I figured it out.

Now, one fear I have for posting this is sibling rage (who's effected me in what way, why aren't they posted about, etc.), but I chose to post it because this is about me, not them. On the same token, I don't think Dylan and I are as close as I'd like to be, nor am I his favorite sibling, and probably not his favorite bother (he has choices after all).

Tiffany and I can talk about anything without getting uncomfortable. I remember the time where we crossed that line about talking about sex, we were at Dos Gringos. It was crossed, we thought we might get uncomfortable, (after all I do not want to hear about the man climbing onto my sister NO THANK YOU), but we weren't. We keep it vague, but funny stories that we don't feel comfortable about telling other people we can talk about there. We also share relationship struggles and have become happy with just being single for the time being. We were each others best friend and always can still call each other for anything.

Jeremy keeps the child living inside of me. The moment I think I'm done with gaming, done with computers, or done with anything child-like, he ropes me back in. Even going as far as buying me a game I chose not to buy just so I have the option to play with him. Just the other day Jeremy texted Tiffany, Dylan and I saying that he was heading over to our mom's with his kids. So all three of us went there. He said that mom's house is the hub of our visits, but in reality he is. Jeremy has that personality that you are just drawn to.

This does end the family portion (for now) of who has effected my life. Next comes friends and ex's. cause let's face it, you wouldn't be who you are without'em.

I think I'm going to start posting the musings of my week on weekends. A mesh of the two blogs I talked about in my early posts. Keeps it lively.

It is not good enough to be good if you have the ability to be better
. - Albert Lee Cox
~Just a thought.

Thursday, July 14, 2011


          There have been times between my mother and myself that haven't been great. I *know* there were timesI thought I would never talk to her again. I blamed her for a lot of different things that weren't her fault. But she has always been there for me when I needed her, even though we wouldn't talk for a long period of time. To her, It always remained that I was her son, and despite how I felt about her, I was her son and she loved me.
          My father had influenced me in how I wanted to live my life, my morals and values. My mother gave me my passions. Ever since I was little, my mother owned books. Tons and tons of books. My dad had literally built close to 9 different book shelves for her because she just kept on collecting and reading. When I was little, I would wake up at 2 am (super late for 3rd-4th grade) and I would go downstairs to find my mom sitting only with a lamp on, focusing on her book. There were times when she wouldn't notice me till I hit the bottom set of stairs, and she would always ask what I'm doing up. I would crawl up next to her and watch her read. She would never read them to me, at my age they were far too sophisticated to understand. But I would watch her get lost in the book again, gasp at certain parts of the book, and laugh out loud during others. Growing up I never really got INTO reading per se, I've read a few very popular books, and a few that aren't popular. But seeing her get lost into a passage really got me into writing. For those who don't know, I love writing. I love fantasy, everything about it just makes my eyes gloss over and I zone out. I have always wanted to write a book she could gasp or laugh at. To be able to create a world so unique that people just get lost in it would be such a success in my mind.
          The other very similar, but very different, passion is video games. Some of the BEST memories of my mother and I growing up would be playing video games. Some of our favorites were the Final Fantasy series. Mine was VII, hers was VIII, and my brother Jeremy's was IX. It was sort of a competition for us to play, talk about, and debate which game was better. Even after those though, I can still list a dozen games we played together on Playstation and Playstation 2. As an adult we even played World of Warcraft together and other Online Multiplayer games.
         I share her passion with worlds beyond our own. My imagination grew with her passion of reading and I could never thank her enough for it.

“When I was your age, television was called books. And this is a special book. It was the book my father used to read to me when I was sick, and I used to read it to your father. And today I'm gonna read it to you.” - The Princess Bride (1987)
~Just a thought

Wednesday, July 13, 2011

Paul Hoffman

          I can't think of a time where I haven't admired my father. He has been the backbone for many people throughout my life, from friends, to other family, to myself. He is probably the best person to ask for advice on a moral dillema, because he knows the answer right off the bat. I can't imagine how blessed I have been growing up with him as a dad, because he is always there. He did something different with his kids in raising us, and I will forever thank him for it.
          I remember a time, back in high school, I had snuck my girlfriend into my room to spend the night. He had knocked, I answered, and my girlfriend, Didi, hid. She didn't hide very well, and I saw his eyes flicker in her direction and then back to me. We finished our conversation and he left, I locked the door and Didi continued to hide (not being able to see the door) until I said it was ok. I had looked back where he looked, and a part of her ear and red hair was visible. Now,  She had been having problems at home, he knew the situation with her family wasn't great and he knew she had ran away from home, but I had told him she was staying with a friend. To be honest, I still don't know whether or not he actually did see her, but he clearly saw something that alerted him in that direction. He walked into my bedroom one morning two days later and poked me in the side waking me up for school with Didi in my arms saying he better not see this again.
           I asked him what prompted him to go into my bedroom that morning, he said to lay down lunch money. Every morning before (and after) that he laid it on the kitchen table downstairs. So I believe he must have known something was up. How much trust can a man give his 17 year old son?
           He raised me right, though. I am ashamed and proud to say I had never snuck out of the house. I had no reason to. My dad knew my friends. He knew where I was just about every step of the way on my weekends. I never had a curfew and never needed to check in. It would be normal, even being 15/16, to have my dad come downstairs getting ready for work at 4am, seeing my friends, both male and female, hanging out downstairs. Some of my friends were surprised he wasn't upset for them being there, or for being there so late.
          He definitely respected me as a young man, even from the age of 16. I never asked for too much when I got a little older, I liked building and buying things for myself, especially after my parents divorce (we'll get to that topic later). The one thing he did get me, though, was a car. A Plymouth Duster. The thing was $800, chipped paint, dry rotted wipers, peeling tint on the windows, but it was mine. Now, a buddy of mine purchased a ticket to go see Red Hot Chili Peppers in Glendale. Please understand I was 16/17 at the time, and had never driven there before. He offered me $40 to drive him (when gas was still around $1/gal) and I had said OK. Well, we bring his sister along for my company on the way back, and it started to rain. Hard. It was the first time I was driving on a major highway, and first time in the rain. Let me tell you, it was the scariest drive of my life. Do you remember those dry rotted windshield wipers? Well, one worked just barely, and the other broke off during the drive to Glendale. Well, we get there without any accidents, I'm turning into the arena, and my phone goes off. It's my dad. He asked me where I was and I told him the truth. He was *not* happy and told me to come home immediately. I dropped off my friend and drove his sister home and then went home myself to face the music. I walked in and joined him in the living room. He asked how the drive was. I told him that it was, by far, the scariest drive I had ever done, and even though I knew I was going to get punished, that drive, in and of itself, was a lesson learned. My dad told me to go upstairs till he thought of a suitable punishment. Ten minutes later he comes to me and says I'm grounded from my car for two weeks. He then proceeds to say that, as a father, he feels obligated to punish me, but I have self-acquired everything in my room (including building my own computer) and he doesn't feel right taking that stuff away that he didn't give. The car was the only thing he had given me worth grounding me from. The respect to allow me to keep *my* things still astounds me to this day. I wouldn't have questioned him taking my computer for two weeks, that's for certain.
          There was another time, much later into the future, where him and I had gotten into an argument, we are both large men, and we could yell the roof off our house. It was a screaming match for the decade. Naturally, him being the father and me being the son, he won, and I went to my room and slammed the door. My step-mom got into his face after and yelled at HIM for letting me treat him that way. She said that he should demand my respect and punish me for yelling at him in such a manner. Instead of listening to his wife, he shot back at her and said that I'm allowed to yell, because his children would never leave the house without telling him, like her daughter had done in the past. It shut her up quick, and it really showed me that he definitely taught us respect, not demand it. Having an attitude was not against the rules.
          I could go on with different stories when he impressed me, but I won't. Just know that this man is the most influential person in my life and he molded me into what I am today. He is worthy of admiration ten-fold. I know he has figured out the meaning of life, and he takes it by the horns.

I like being a Dad, Watching my kids grow up. I believe honesty, trust, and patience is something more people should have and I hope I have taught my kids the same. - Paul Hoffman
~Just a thought

Monday, July 11, 2011

The beginning of a new era.

          When blogging was huge on several other sites (such as live journal), I didn't get into it. I despised it really -  I thought it was just a way for underage people to get on their soapbox and rant about something they had no previous knowledge on, pretending to be an expert on things that they truly don't understand.
          I never saw it as a "journal", because they were (for the most part) open to the public and I always believed (and still believe) a physical journal is more personal and more private. I am happy to say I *was* a part of the last generation before computers became huge, and I *have* written 5-page papers with blue or black pen in cursive because that was considered the final draft. That feel of the hand in so much pain because a mistake meant starting over. Those were personal. They were masterpieces.
          But that's not what I want to blog about.
          I never saw blogging to be anything more than random typings of someone who I didn't care about talking about nothing or everything about their life and I didn't want any part of it. It has only been recently that my opinion has changed.
          I started reading two of my friends' blogs. They were both different in what they wrote about, why they write, and their styles of writing. One is an old friend, whereas the other I'm just starting to get to know. The first writes just about every night, talking about his entire day, breaking it down to his significant conversations, thoughts, and feelings on his day. It brings a real personal touch to his life far better than any facebook post could. And he does it in a way where it keeps you hooked. The other, however, writes about boys. Boys she has had a crush on in the past. I know it sounds crazy, but she ties in important aspects of her life throughout these stories, revealing heart wrenching twists in her life growing up, but always focusing on the boy, always attributing that part of her life to that boy. It is so interesting to learn certain things and to have her NEVER go back on that part of her life, because that is not what she's talking about. She's talking about THAT boy. I enjoy both blogs immensely.
           So, here I am, starting a blog. And though the former seems to be far more therapeutic and fresh, I think I will enjoy talking about who and what made me me. Gives an extra option to get to know me better. To all the readers who have decided to start reading, I hope you enjoy it.

Demand much from yourself, little from others, and you will prevent much discontent - Confucius

~Just a thought