Sunday, September 30, 2007
Actober!
i'm happy today. actually, i've been happy since friday....when my beloved cubs clinched a playoff birth. the second season officially begins, for me anyway, on wednesday night. hopefully dane cook will be no where to be found while i'm in party mode. oh, and i start back at work tomorrow. that sucks. GO CUBS!
Friday, September 21, 2007
Not so a-MUSE-ing after all
the muse concert came and went last week. it was the concert i'd been more amped about than any i'd ever seen. yet, i wasn't there. why? well, on monday night after the gym, my medicine coated stent decided to give way, creating a full blockage in a cardiac artery. some in the medical field may refer to this as a heart attack. yeah, another one. ugh.
the signs were all the same (the pain, trouble breathing, etc.), but this time was much, much different than the first time around. for one, i was actually conscious when this one hit fully. i also wasn't schlepped to the ER by an ex, rather i called the ambulance...after hopping in the shower and walking over to my neighbor's door to hand her my keys so she could take care of my dogs.
truth be told, i wasn't scared a bit. naturally, the EKGs didn't show anything, which seemed (somehow) to convince the EMT that there really wasn't much going on, except that i knew exactly what was going on, and when you know what's happening, fear isn't really part of the emotional spectrum.
(note: i took a shower 'cause i'd just gotten home from a 1 hour cardio class--ironic--and knew i'd be in the hospital for a few days. who wants to be lying in a hospital bed reeking like funk?)
i get to the ER, calm as can be, joke with the staff, take all the medicines they can feed me (i love you, morphine and nitro) and waited patiently for them to wheel me to the heart cath lab. what was weird about this whole experience is that i knew exactly what was going to happen and how everything would feel afterwards. perhaps that's why i felt a tinge of resentment every step of the way.
mr. heart cath lab cardiologist told me they'd give me something to make me feel good. i insisted on just being put completely out. who won that battle is purely a matter of perception. i woke up at some point (i had no idea what time it was for 3 days. apparently i sent text messages to people at 4:30am. sorry.) with that very familiar pain in my groin... the femoral artery is the preferred route to the heart.
i stayed in ICU for 2 days, since all the private rooms were occupied and i'm very high maintenance. it wasn't too bad. the RNs were cool, i had some visitors, and the bed was simply kick ass--it was some kind of auto-adjust bed that miraculously knew the position i'd just been in and adjusted to fill the void i'd left when i moved. pretty rockin'.
i got moved to my private suite, with an amazing view of the hospital roof (how romantic!). it reminded me, actually, of my freshman dorm room, minus the beer bottle caps tapped into the ceiling. this room is where the friction began.
"room service" called me incessantly, apparently not understanding that i'm not hungry at 7am the day after i'd been loaded up with every anesthesia, painkiller and bloodthinner known to man. then they called every half hour until lunch. finally, i caved and ordered my bland-ass low cholesterol, low fat, low sodium lunch. and after all this, they give me fucking regular greasy ass potato chips?! "sure, the care at this hospital is great, but the food will kill you!" unreal.
the hours ticked by and i finally get a visit from the resident cardiologist who told me i needed to start working out. uh, dude, did you even READ the admission report? what the hell did you think i was doing before i got here? did they not teach you basic english in russian medical school? after a snarky response, he told me i'd be discharged shortly and then left.
i got dressed and was just waiting on my paperwork to be completed, when the only thing that could send me immediately back into cardiac trauma occurred...the cardiac RN came in to "counsel" me on cardiac rehab, a joke of a program put on by the hospital to take more money from my pocket and cost me more time at work.
she handed me the very same paperwork i'd seen before, which i knew nearly from rote memory no less, and proceeded to read it to me, as if i were an illiterate bum. i signed the paper acknowledging that i'd received it, figuring this was the last hurdle to me leaving. no. instead, she proceeds with a 10 minute lecture about how i'm gambling with my health if i go back to work and if i don't take advantage of the cardiac rehab. (note: at this point, everyone realized i could benefit from their stress relieving classes, since this broad was pissing me off to noticeable proportions).
to put an end to this charade, i asked for one compelling reason that cardiac rehab was better than the exercising i'd been doing on my own for the past year and half (including, but not limited to: cycling, mountain biking, hiking 14,000 mountains and shorter ones, walking, soccer, basketball, core step classes, and spin classes). her response? "in cardiac rehab, you'll be working out while we monitor you with machines you don't have access to at a gym."
i was fucking floored. that's the benefit of taking more time off work to go to these classes? to workout while i'm hooked up to machines that failed to detect even a hint of not one, but TWO HEART ATTACKS?! and that was my response. defeated, she shrunk away and i was on my way home.
as you can see, i'm plainly bitter about this recurrence. i'm bitter that no one i encountered in the medical field wanted to consider for a second that, for once, it wasn't the patient that fucked up, but that their shitty rushed-to-market-to-make-huge-bucks stent actually didn't work. add to that speaking to me as if i were an ignorant dolt that knew nothing of how to care for himself after a cardiac episode and you've got yourself one helluva blood-boiling good time.
the physical pain of a heart attack is bad enough, but the carelessness, condescension, and utter unwillingness to work with the patient rather than directing him is what made this experience so awful.
monday i have another battle, this time with my normal cardiologist, over when i'll be "allowed" to go back to work. presumably, he'll tell me a week more is in order. i'm armed with the argument that being home alone with nothing to do and losing valuable PTO is far more stressful than actually being at work. we'll see if he wants to work with me or direct me, too.
JY: 2
Death: 0
still gettin' shut out, reaper.
the signs were all the same (the pain, trouble breathing, etc.), but this time was much, much different than the first time around. for one, i was actually conscious when this one hit fully. i also wasn't schlepped to the ER by an ex, rather i called the ambulance...after hopping in the shower and walking over to my neighbor's door to hand her my keys so she could take care of my dogs.
truth be told, i wasn't scared a bit. naturally, the EKGs didn't show anything, which seemed (somehow) to convince the EMT that there really wasn't much going on, except that i knew exactly what was going on, and when you know what's happening, fear isn't really part of the emotional spectrum.
(note: i took a shower 'cause i'd just gotten home from a 1 hour cardio class--ironic--and knew i'd be in the hospital for a few days. who wants to be lying in a hospital bed reeking like funk?)
i get to the ER, calm as can be, joke with the staff, take all the medicines they can feed me (i love you, morphine and nitro) and waited patiently for them to wheel me to the heart cath lab. what was weird about this whole experience is that i knew exactly what was going to happen and how everything would feel afterwards. perhaps that's why i felt a tinge of resentment every step of the way.
mr. heart cath lab cardiologist told me they'd give me something to make me feel good. i insisted on just being put completely out. who won that battle is purely a matter of perception. i woke up at some point (i had no idea what time it was for 3 days. apparently i sent text messages to people at 4:30am. sorry.) with that very familiar pain in my groin... the femoral artery is the preferred route to the heart.
i stayed in ICU for 2 days, since all the private rooms were occupied and i'm very high maintenance. it wasn't too bad. the RNs were cool, i had some visitors, and the bed was simply kick ass--it was some kind of auto-adjust bed that miraculously knew the position i'd just been in and adjusted to fill the void i'd left when i moved. pretty rockin'.
i got moved to my private suite, with an amazing view of the hospital roof (how romantic!). it reminded me, actually, of my freshman dorm room, minus the beer bottle caps tapped into the ceiling. this room is where the friction began.
"room service" called me incessantly, apparently not understanding that i'm not hungry at 7am the day after i'd been loaded up with every anesthesia, painkiller and bloodthinner known to man. then they called every half hour until lunch. finally, i caved and ordered my bland-ass low cholesterol, low fat, low sodium lunch. and after all this, they give me fucking regular greasy ass potato chips?! "sure, the care at this hospital is great, but the food will kill you!" unreal.
the hours ticked by and i finally get a visit from the resident cardiologist who told me i needed to start working out. uh, dude, did you even READ the admission report? what the hell did you think i was doing before i got here? did they not teach you basic english in russian medical school? after a snarky response, he told me i'd be discharged shortly and then left.
i got dressed and was just waiting on my paperwork to be completed, when the only thing that could send me immediately back into cardiac trauma occurred...the cardiac RN came in to "counsel" me on cardiac rehab, a joke of a program put on by the hospital to take more money from my pocket and cost me more time at work.
she handed me the very same paperwork i'd seen before, which i knew nearly from rote memory no less, and proceeded to read it to me, as if i were an illiterate bum. i signed the paper acknowledging that i'd received it, figuring this was the last hurdle to me leaving. no. instead, she proceeds with a 10 minute lecture about how i'm gambling with my health if i go back to work and if i don't take advantage of the cardiac rehab. (note: at this point, everyone realized i could benefit from their stress relieving classes, since this broad was pissing me off to noticeable proportions).
to put an end to this charade, i asked for one compelling reason that cardiac rehab was better than the exercising i'd been doing on my own for the past year and half (including, but not limited to: cycling, mountain biking, hiking 14,000 mountains and shorter ones, walking, soccer, basketball, core step classes, and spin classes). her response? "in cardiac rehab, you'll be working out while we monitor you with machines you don't have access to at a gym."
i was fucking floored. that's the benefit of taking more time off work to go to these classes? to workout while i'm hooked up to machines that failed to detect even a hint of not one, but TWO HEART ATTACKS?! and that was my response. defeated, she shrunk away and i was on my way home.
as you can see, i'm plainly bitter about this recurrence. i'm bitter that no one i encountered in the medical field wanted to consider for a second that, for once, it wasn't the patient that fucked up, but that their shitty rushed-to-market-to-make-huge-bucks stent actually didn't work. add to that speaking to me as if i were an ignorant dolt that knew nothing of how to care for himself after a cardiac episode and you've got yourself one helluva blood-boiling good time.
the physical pain of a heart attack is bad enough, but the carelessness, condescension, and utter unwillingness to work with the patient rather than directing him is what made this experience so awful.
monday i have another battle, this time with my normal cardiologist, over when i'll be "allowed" to go back to work. presumably, he'll tell me a week more is in order. i'm armed with the argument that being home alone with nothing to do and losing valuable PTO is far more stressful than actually being at work. we'll see if he wants to work with me or direct me, too.
JY: 2
Death: 0
still gettin' shut out, reaper.
Wednesday, September 12, 2007
Okayyyy? Greeeeaaat.
as if my life didn't often enough resemble office space, i met a guy today that must've thought i'd been trying to launder some money. shortly after 6pm there's a knock on my door. the dogs calm down long enough for me to answer and as i open the door what appears? lo and behold, it's a squirly looking 30-something selling magazine subscriptions.
in a shocking bit of deja vu, yes, he began by telling me his story about how his life had been ruined by bad decisions, drugs and alcohol. he was on his road to recovery and by buying a magazine subscription, i'd be helping out his way-way (halfway house, my term) and he'd get a small cut. mercifully, this is where my life and the movie take divergent courses. i haven't put myself in a bind by stealing small fractions of pennies each day, but erring in the code to steal hundreds of thousands of dollars overnight.
i thanked him for stopping by, but told him i'd not be buying anything because i don't read. especially magazines (i hate reading in general). while he thanked me for my time, there was a look of both disappointment and curiosity on his face. naturally, rejection is part of the sales game, but it's as if you could see in his eyes that he was thinking i'd gone through this before. i should have told him that i'd need him to come back on saturday. and sunday. okay? great.
in a shocking bit of deja vu, yes, he began by telling me his story about how his life had been ruined by bad decisions, drugs and alcohol. he was on his road to recovery and by buying a magazine subscription, i'd be helping out his way-way (halfway house, my term) and he'd get a small cut. mercifully, this is where my life and the movie take divergent courses. i haven't put myself in a bind by stealing small fractions of pennies each day, but erring in the code to steal hundreds of thousands of dollars overnight.
i thanked him for stopping by, but told him i'd not be buying anything because i don't read. especially magazines (i hate reading in general). while he thanked me for my time, there was a look of both disappointment and curiosity on his face. naturally, rejection is part of the sales game, but it's as if you could see in his eyes that he was thinking i'd gone through this before. i should have told him that i'd need him to come back on saturday. and sunday. okay? great.
Tuesday, September 11, 2007
It's not you, it's her
while i didn't bother to waste any energy (or endanger any brain cells) watching britney spears', ahem, comeback, i certainly read enough about it. and by all accounts it was the entertainment disaster of the century. from the flabby britney to the clumsy britney to the 'phoning it in britney' who can no longer lip synch. and, of course, all the supposedly shocked faces in the audience.
one person notably shocked--and outspoken about it--was kanye west (surprise!). the oft-public whiner went on record to complain about spears' being picked to open the MTV VMAs (this thing is still around?!) rather than the preppy rapper, he of the album debuting next week.
"maybe my money's not right. maybe my skin's not right," west is quoted as saying. yeah, buddy, that's it. you weren't invited to open because you're black. your "genre" of music has taken over every crevice of this country and still the man is just holdin' you down.
how 'bout this, wiseguy, maybe it's because she's a tabloid queen and you, well you just manage to stay away from negative publicity for the most part. yeah, it sucks not being recognized for complete idiocy and bad parenting (like driving with your 1 year old on your lap, running out of gas, a messy public tussle with your mom, exposing your post-birth labia). but, hey, just chalk it up to one of the few downsides to actually acting like a normal human being.
it has nothing to be with you being black. it has nothing to do with you being poor. you're incredibly wealthy and evidently popular enough to be asked to cameo on entourage. so what the hell is the big deal about being just another act on the VMAs? do people really watch that thing anymore? quit whining and enjoy your money and fame. besides, that could be you in 10 years.
one person notably shocked--and outspoken about it--was kanye west (surprise!). the oft-public whiner went on record to complain about spears' being picked to open the MTV VMAs (this thing is still around?!) rather than the preppy rapper, he of the album debuting next week.
"maybe my money's not right. maybe my skin's not right," west is quoted as saying. yeah, buddy, that's it. you weren't invited to open because you're black. your "genre" of music has taken over every crevice of this country and still the man is just holdin' you down.
how 'bout this, wiseguy, maybe it's because she's a tabloid queen and you, well you just manage to stay away from negative publicity for the most part. yeah, it sucks not being recognized for complete idiocy and bad parenting (like driving with your 1 year old on your lap, running out of gas, a messy public tussle with your mom, exposing your post-birth labia). but, hey, just chalk it up to one of the few downsides to actually acting like a normal human being.
it has nothing to be with you being black. it has nothing to do with you being poor. you're incredibly wealthy and evidently popular enough to be asked to cameo on entourage. so what the hell is the big deal about being just another act on the VMAs? do people really watch that thing anymore? quit whining and enjoy your money and fame. besides, that could be you in 10 years.
Sunday, September 09, 2007
Shoot 'em up style
"Shoot 'em up" review....in 100 words or less.
We were bored. Needed a movie or distraction.
Movie lives up to the title. Clive Owen, drawn in unceremoniously to violence. Unclear past or training. Cloudy, convoluted plot. Not for true moviegoers. Adrenaline and action junkies only. One liners awful, like Terminator, but worse. Hot chick hooker actress should be a B film star. Paul Giamatti should be ashamed. Lots of killing. Unrealistic action like a shootout while skydiving, or crashing through a car window at 85 mph and then killing 6 people. Mildly enjoyable at times. Overall just a waste of time and dinero.
Word count: 100
Wednesday, September 05, 2007
you KILL me
it's funny what happens when there is a band you don't particularly love and then you see them in concert. while you may never be an avid follower, if the band's performance live is any good, then you'll at least have a more profound appreciation and admiration for them. i experienced this first a few years back when i saw 311 live--whom i always hated prior to the show and whom i really really like now--and again tonight, when i ventured to red rocks to see the killers play.
g strang got the tickets a while back, and after some bargaining (he paid for this set of tix, i get the next ones...in 2 weeks), i decided to go to the show. let me say, first, that if you've never been to red rocks, it's amazing. of all the venues i've been to to see a show, red rocks is simply incomparable. the scenery, the acoustics, the massive crowds. it's awe-inspiring and phenomenal.
the show itself was pretty dog gone good too. the opening act featured the glorious and triumphant return of louis XIV, who i first heard (oddly enough) on a video game. their performance set the tone for the evening: upbeat, playful, and downright fun. the killers tried feverishly to follow suit and, natch, came out on stage to a thunderous roar from the crowd. their "outfits" certainly played up their oasis-complex (thinking they're the greatest band in the world).
though i don't think they quite lived up to the hype in their own heads, they certainly kept up the pace. the set was fast and furious, leaving no time whatsoever between songs. apparently, they'd begun by playing their most recent album in order, but quickly reverted to their older stuff. the contrast between the two styles was startling.
while i know only a few lyrics to a few of their songs, i was impressed overall with their show. it wasn't the best i've seen, but certainly was no where in the vicinity of "bad." and while i won't be rushing out to buy any of their albums, i'll certainly be more likely to actively listen to their songs should their cd be playing in a friend's car or their tune come over the airwaves. well done, indeed.
next up.....MUSE!
back at red rocks 9/18 for my most anticipated concert in years! i'll be there, camera in hand, singing along to everything from "Absolution" and "Showbiz" (i don't love "black holes and revelations" like everyone else seems to). check back for the (hopefully) glowing review.
g strang got the tickets a while back, and after some bargaining (he paid for this set of tix, i get the next ones...in 2 weeks), i decided to go to the show. let me say, first, that if you've never been to red rocks, it's amazing. of all the venues i've been to to see a show, red rocks is simply incomparable. the scenery, the acoustics, the massive crowds. it's awe-inspiring and phenomenal.
the show itself was pretty dog gone good too. the opening act featured the glorious and triumphant return of louis XIV, who i first heard (oddly enough) on a video game. their performance set the tone for the evening: upbeat, playful, and downright fun. the killers tried feverishly to follow suit and, natch, came out on stage to a thunderous roar from the crowd. their "outfits" certainly played up their oasis-complex (thinking they're the greatest band in the world).
though i don't think they quite lived up to the hype in their own heads, they certainly kept up the pace. the set was fast and furious, leaving no time whatsoever between songs. apparently, they'd begun by playing their most recent album in order, but quickly reverted to their older stuff. the contrast between the two styles was startling.
while i know only a few lyrics to a few of their songs, i was impressed overall with their show. it wasn't the best i've seen, but certainly was no where in the vicinity of "bad." and while i won't be rushing out to buy any of their albums, i'll certainly be more likely to actively listen to their songs should their cd be playing in a friend's car or their tune come over the airwaves. well done, indeed.
next up.....MUSE!
back at red rocks 9/18 for my most anticipated concert in years! i'll be there, camera in hand, singing along to everything from "Absolution" and "Showbiz" (i don't love "black holes and revelations" like everyone else seems to). check back for the (hopefully) glowing review.
Sunday, September 02, 2007
C.U. in my dreams
on saturday, CJ and i attended one of the most exciting college football games ever. the rocky mountain showdown is the annual rivalry game between colorado and colorado state. and while i attended neither school and have no allegiance to either, i'm a fairly frequent visitor to the big rock (boulder), so naturally i chose to support CU. besides, i needed something to take my mind off the fact that my boys in maize and blue were committing the choke of the century.
we lucked into our tickets thru one of CJs friends and since the game was in denver (rather than boulder or ft. collins), it was a simple train ride to the stadium for me. i waited outside the tailgate area for CJ and the boys to arrive. the 20 minutes or so i spent watching the 20-something year old college girls walk (stumble) by really made me miss being 22 again because i must've fallen in love about 30-40 times in a span of 10 minutes with girls that were far too young for me to touch--especially the one that wore only her CU shirt and a black g-string. mmmmmm.
the first half of the game was brilliant. it was exciting, loud and scorching hot. the sun must've been focused directly on me, because i swear i was melting. we took off to the concourse with about 2:00 left in the first half, hoping to beat the rush to the concession stands.
by the time we'd grabbed our grub, we had a front row seat to the most glorious sight a 28 year old bachelor can have: hordes of college coeds, skimpily clad with tight pants, see through shirts, and the glow of drunkenness from 4 hours of tailgaiting strolling passed us as if they knew we were looking and hoped we'd continue. i could go into the gory details, but i'll spare you and leave only this sentiment: this game had the single largest collection of amazingly "talented" women i've ever seen in one place. ever. that includes spring break destinations, football games at other venues, and girls gone wild videos. only "heaven" would begin to approach an appropriate description of the situation.
anyway, the 2nd half was as exciting as the first, with the buffs pulling out an overtime win. i'd really gotten all into it by then and it was a nailbiter. we had a great time, leaving it all out on the field and our voices were reduced to nothing. but even as i look back at how great the game was (and it was all free, to boot!), my lasting impressions will be mostly of the unbelievable quantity and quality of the women present, with the game providing some ancillary background details.
rough 'em up buffaloes, go CU!
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