This weekend was the 16th annual X Games in LA, and of course, I was glued to the screen. (Sadly, sleep issues and the inability of ESPN to distinguish between EST and PST caused me to miss some events I really wanted to see.) Having spent most of the weekend watching some of the most awesome athletes out there do what they do best, I have some thoughts to share.
The Ugly
Chaz got robbed. I’ve made no secret of the fact that I’m a rabid Chaz Ortiz fan, and I’m not ashamed to admit that I’m absolutely biased when it comes to how he performs. With that said, he was totally robbed in the Street Finals — he went in #1 seeded, and they handed it to Sheckler. Why? For the same reason that every promo for the Street competition mentioned “Ryan Sheckler and the boys.” Sheckler is the big name, and having him win looks good. It’s as simple as that.
The Rally competition was a fustercluck. When one car in a field of a dozen or more is eliminated from a round, it’s disappointing, but to be expected. When all but two races end in an elimination, and one of those ends with a car breaking down, it’s not competition, it’s a waste of fans’ time. Changing up the course route four times in one day (practice, qualifiers, semis, and finals) is outrageous, and eliminating codrivers was one of the stupidest things the Games have ever done. Read the rest of this entry »
My grandma loved flowers, and always had beds filled with them. There were annuals like multicolored inpatiens, Purple Wave petunias, Scarlet Sage, and whatever else might be interesting when the Spring visit to the nursery rolled around. There were also my favorites, the perennials: irises, gladiolas, and her favorites, roses.
When I was little, Grandma had five rosebushes in a bed right outside her back door, along the side of her sun-porch. There was a red climbing rose around the corner at the end, and then small white, yellow, and pink bushes coming down the line towards the door. As she got older and couldn’t tend to them, these (except the climbing one) all slowly died.
At the very end of the bed, right next to the door, was a large pink rosebush. Of all of the flowers in her garden, this rosebush was the most special. Pink roses were her favorite, and this particular one was a Mother’s Day gift from her third son. Read the rest of this entry »
I’m talking madly. Probably inappropriately, but when has that ever bothered me?
I also love his band, Angels & Airwaves (A∀A). If you don’t know that they released their new album Love on Valentine’s Day, then you obviously weren’t paying attention to my tweeting, because I was having Tweetgasms all over the place.
Even more exciting, on the 16th they posted the dates for their Spring Tour. I’ve been waiting for them to go on tour forever, and now, finally, they are.
A few minutes ago, I posted this to LinuxJournal.com — it expresses my feelings as much here as it does there, so I’ll let it speak for itself.
Today is a day of grief for Linux Journal. This afternoon, Associate Editor Shawn Power’s home burned down — though we don’t know many details yet, we do know that Shawn, his wife Donna, and their three girls are escaped unharmed, but their pets were lost.
Shawn is one of the warmest, kindest, and most big-hearted people we know. Anyone who has met him, in the offline world or online knows that he is an amazing person, and is constantly focused on others. We at Linux Journal are privileged to know him, and compelled to offer whatever assistance we can in this troubled time. Read the rest of this entry »
A lot of you guys know that I have Obsessive-Compulsive disorder. Some of you may know that the disorder involves having intrusive, irrational, disturbing thoughts that produce varying levels of anxiety — thoughts the individual knows are irrational. The “solution” to the anxiety these thoughts create is to develop a compulsion — some activity or series of activities that, though it is equally irrational, relieves the anxiety.
I have a number of obsessions and the accompanying compulsions. One I’ve had for years — long before it was diagnosed — was the obsession that something awful was going to happen to my Grandma between the time I left and the next time I saw her. I had no idea what specifically was going to happen, but it was something awful, and it was imminent. Of course, I knew nothing awful was going to happen, but that didn’t change the obsession — it was there, it wasn’t going away, and it created a great deal of anxiety for me.
For years, every time I left, she would tell me she loved me and to be careful. Eventually it developed into the compulsion for my obsession. The ritual went like this:
Grandma: I love you. Me: I love you too. Grandma: Be careful. Me: I will.
Now, I’m not stupid — I know that saying those lines in that order isn’t going to influence the Fates in the least. If something is going to happen, it’s going to happen, ritual or not. But, it relieved my anxiety, and we always went through it. I forgot until I was in the car on a couple of occasions (and nearly knocked the door off the hinges once to get back in). I forgot entirely once — only once — on a Monday. Grandma fell and broke her hip that Friday. Read the rest of this entry »
My grandma loved flowers, and always had beds filled with them. There were annuals like multicolored inpatiens, Purple Wave petunias, Scarlet Sage, and whatever else might be interesting when the Spring visit to the nursery rolled around. There were also my favorites, the perennials: irises, gladiolas, and her favorites, roses.
