So much for being sick!
It was not a pretty sight yesterday at work, but I did end up making it through the day. After work, I didn't want to go for my run but I have this theory that I can simply sweat out the common cold. I don't know if there are any medical facts that fully support my theory but I believe that any cold is not only physical but it's also a bit mental. What I mean by this is that if I let myself think I am ill, then my mind will go along with it and make me believe that there are things wrong with me that maybe really aren't.
So anyways, I "cowboyed-up" and decided I needed to at least try. Now, the hardest part about the "sick run" is the first 5 minutes or so, if you can conquer that, then you're golden - atleast in my books. Oddly enough after the first 5 minutes I started pushing the treadmill speed up and up, and went a bit faster than I have been lately which was great because I didn't expect that at all. Last night before bed just in case there were any doubts, I decided to have a neocitran. I woke up at 5am to find the sheets on the bed wet from pillow all the way down to my feet...it was kind of gross actually but at the same time I knew I had this cold licked.
In other news, I have completely shut down my Windows machine at home. I have always had 2 machines, one running windows the other running Linux (Fedora 10). There are a few reasons I keep the windows machine around, but there is one in particular that has me by the balls: I like my computer games. I always have been a bit of a gamer, mostly just FPS and sports titles. I don't play so much anymore, mostly due to the fact that I live in the sticks now and my internet connection is not the best for online gaming (which is my forte). This switch really isn't a huge deal for me because for the past 2 years or so I've really come to be quite familiar with Linux so I know I will be able to hack it (no pun intended). At the same time I know that both Wine and Cedega allow for quite a number of games designed for windows to be played on Linux. My only question to that will be whether or not there will be a performance hit. Time will tell, but I do plan on posting blogs about this experience.
Finally, I wanted to voice my appreciation for the recent followers that have subscribed to my blog. It's nice to write some times, but the way I see it is that it's even nicer to know that someone might actually read it.
Thursday, February 26, 2009
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
Sicko.
Finally caught the bug going around work. I'm not one to typically get sick much, and so far it's not full blown. If I can control it for the day and make it to the gym, I'll hopefully be able to sweat it out before it gets any worse.
Monday, February 23, 2009
Running down the dream
Living up in the Ottawa area in the winter doesn't exactly allow for the opportunity to run outdoors. Well, that's not entirely true I suppose. Some people do get outside and go for runs in the winter but for me the risk of injury is not worth putting to chance. Luckily for me, work has a a gym onsite that has a couple of treadmills that are available providing you are member. So every Tuesday and Thursday after work I go for a run. Not a very long run, only 25 minutes usually but it does get the job done. Recently after one such run I was approached by another gentleman in the gym. He came up to me and initiated the conversation about my pace and that he was quite impressed. I told him the workout could always be better but thanked him for noticing. He asked me if I was going to be running the marathon in Ottawa this year. I told him I had considered it, but had never run a marathon before so wasn't sure what to expect etc. Anyways we went into some further discussion about it and he was certain that with my technique and pace I wouldn't have any issues completing it. This got my gears rolling...again...
About 5 years ago I was really into running. I would go out every day and do about 11KM, it didn't matter if it was raining, or sunny, or even if it was one of the worst days for humidity in Windsor, I was going for a run. I sort of let the running die off as I got back into working out when the new gym opened up at the school but have always kept it in my workouts atleast a couple times out of the week.
In any case, I think I am going to start making a serious push to get back into it and get my pace as best as possible. If I can do that, I think that I may sign up for a half marathon this way I can get a feel of whether or not I would enjoy a full marathon.
Wish me luck.
About 5 years ago I was really into running. I would go out every day and do about 11KM, it didn't matter if it was raining, or sunny, or even if it was one of the worst days for humidity in Windsor, I was going for a run. I sort of let the running die off as I got back into working out when the new gym opened up at the school but have always kept it in my workouts atleast a couple times out of the week.
In any case, I think I am going to start making a serious push to get back into it and get my pace as best as possible. If I can do that, I think that I may sign up for a half marathon this way I can get a feel of whether or not I would enjoy a full marathon.
Wish me luck.
Thursday, February 19, 2009
I miss school...
If 10 years ago someone would have told me that in 10 years I would be missing school, I would have laughed. But here I am, saying that I genuinely miss school. I don't particularly miss high school it wasn't that enjoyable for me. I had friends and all of that, but I think living an hour away from the school didn't really help the whole highschool experience for me. I also didn't really have an appreciation for learning either and I know I didn't apply myself in the least.
The other day Amy was going through our little filing cabinet and she had pulled out my highschool transcripts. She was pretty surprised at what she saw to say the least. My highest grade ever in any highschool class was an 80. And for the first 4 years (in Ontario back when I went through high school if you wanted to go to University you had to take a 5th year) I really flirted with disaster, doing barely enough to get by. Literally, that's what I was doing. I would almost never do my homework, only when it was actually going to be looked at or checked the next day. On certain occasions if I knew that all the teacher would do was walk up and down the aisles and look to see if we had actually written anything, if I hadn't done the work I would just pull out some old work where the number of questions was close to the actual assigned work. If the teacher paused at my desk and turned some pages, I would continue this B.S. and go off telling them how there was a specific question I didn't get or something as if I had actually opened the book. There were some teachers that knew I was sandbagging it too. I went to a french grade school, yet when I got into highschool I took only the advanced class of french, and not the enriched class. Why? Because I was a slacker who wanted the easiest way out. But in the advanced class I had this one teacher who saw right through me, he knew who I was and what I was doing and kept telling me that I wouldn't be able to do this forever.
In order to get into University, it didn't matter what I did my first 4 years of highschool, all that mattered were those 5th year classes, as those were the ones that the University would look at. So continuing on with my slacker ways, once I knew what school I wanted to go to, I looked up the classes I needed to take, and looked up what the average was that was generally accepted and made sure I got just above it. The guidance councillor was even a bit concerned about my future because in my grade 12 advanced math class I got a 50 right on the nose. So when in my grade 13 year I took Advanced Calculus, Advanced Chemistry and Advanced Biology in one semester(because these were classes required to get into the University program I had selected) he definitely had his doubts. And yet, I managed to get mid to high 70's (which was all that was needed). Who honestly goes from a 50 in a generic math class to almost an 80 in an advanced calculus class...what a fraud I was.
Then came University. My first year really just continued down the same path as my highschool career. I had taken Biological Sciences as my program mostly because I didn't know really what I wanted to do. How I didn't know is beyond me. Every day I would be on my computer until like midnight-1am on school nights...you would think I would have clued in. Well at the time I was dating a girl whom I had known for quite some time and who was taking one of the computer science degrees. I remember that often times she would come over to my house and I would take a look at some of the things she was doing and get quite interested. So I finally clued into this and decided that I would switch programs the next year. I was a bit nervous about doing it because my dad was paying for my school and even though I knew I wasn't applying myself I didn't want to be a financial burden on him. The next 4 years were amazing and a complete 180 for me and my grades reflected it.
My nostalgia was brought on recently because of work. I have this programming problem that involved parsing some BOM's (bill of materials) from a legacy system so that I could import them into my Teamcenter Engineering environment. I could have written the code to do this parsing in Java or C which are both languages I do know, but chose puposely to use Perl so that I could learn it (I now love Perl by the way). But what I was most interested in is ensuring that the complexity of the problem was good as it possibly could be and what the most efficient algorithm would be to solve it. The old Sean probably would only have cared to see the problem solved, and would have taken the easiest way out (i.e. not taken the time to experiement with a new language).
I just wish I could retain some of the information a bit better without having to reference old notes!
The other day Amy was going through our little filing cabinet and she had pulled out my highschool transcripts. She was pretty surprised at what she saw to say the least. My highest grade ever in any highschool class was an 80. And for the first 4 years (in Ontario back when I went through high school if you wanted to go to University you had to take a 5th year) I really flirted with disaster, doing barely enough to get by. Literally, that's what I was doing. I would almost never do my homework, only when it was actually going to be looked at or checked the next day. On certain occasions if I knew that all the teacher would do was walk up and down the aisles and look to see if we had actually written anything, if I hadn't done the work I would just pull out some old work where the number of questions was close to the actual assigned work. If the teacher paused at my desk and turned some pages, I would continue this B.S. and go off telling them how there was a specific question I didn't get or something as if I had actually opened the book. There were some teachers that knew I was sandbagging it too. I went to a french grade school, yet when I got into highschool I took only the advanced class of french, and not the enriched class. Why? Because I was a slacker who wanted the easiest way out. But in the advanced class I had this one teacher who saw right through me, he knew who I was and what I was doing and kept telling me that I wouldn't be able to do this forever.
In order to get into University, it didn't matter what I did my first 4 years of highschool, all that mattered were those 5th year classes, as those were the ones that the University would look at. So continuing on with my slacker ways, once I knew what school I wanted to go to, I looked up the classes I needed to take, and looked up what the average was that was generally accepted and made sure I got just above it. The guidance councillor was even a bit concerned about my future because in my grade 12 advanced math class I got a 50 right on the nose. So when in my grade 13 year I took Advanced Calculus, Advanced Chemistry and Advanced Biology in one semester(because these were classes required to get into the University program I had selected) he definitely had his doubts. And yet, I managed to get mid to high 70's (which was all that was needed). Who honestly goes from a 50 in a generic math class to almost an 80 in an advanced calculus class...what a fraud I was.
Then came University. My first year really just continued down the same path as my highschool career. I had taken Biological Sciences as my program mostly because I didn't know really what I wanted to do. How I didn't know is beyond me. Every day I would be on my computer until like midnight-1am on school nights...you would think I would have clued in. Well at the time I was dating a girl whom I had known for quite some time and who was taking one of the computer science degrees. I remember that often times she would come over to my house and I would take a look at some of the things she was doing and get quite interested. So I finally clued into this and decided that I would switch programs the next year. I was a bit nervous about doing it because my dad was paying for my school and even though I knew I wasn't applying myself I didn't want to be a financial burden on him. The next 4 years were amazing and a complete 180 for me and my grades reflected it.
My nostalgia was brought on recently because of work. I have this programming problem that involved parsing some BOM's (bill of materials) from a legacy system so that I could import them into my Teamcenter Engineering environment. I could have written the code to do this parsing in Java or C which are both languages I do know, but chose puposely to use Perl so that I could learn it (I now love Perl by the way). But what I was most interested in is ensuring that the complexity of the problem was good as it possibly could be and what the most efficient algorithm would be to solve it. The old Sean probably would only have cared to see the problem solved, and would have taken the easiest way out (i.e. not taken the time to experiement with a new language).
I just wish I could retain some of the information a bit better without having to reference old notes!
Friday, February 6, 2009
Battle Scars
Recently I read a very funy post on a friend Jen's blog about a childhood memory of hers. Feel free to read about it here!
I could totally relate to most of her story, and it inspired me enough to get me thinking of my own childhood and the things that I ended up getting myself into. I grew up in a very small town - 600 people or so - and am a product of a very diverse family. My dad and mom split up when I was about 4 years old and eventually my dad, who had custody of my younger brother (4 years younger) and I, remarried to a woman who had a daughter that was 2 years younger than I was (thus 2 years older than my brother). So being the oldest of the three children, I used to enjoy flexing my elderly status both from a responsibility standpoint as well as a physical one. For the most part we were pretty good kids, but there were times that things got a bit out of control.
We were lucky enough to live on the lake as kids, and because of this would participate in quite a few water oriented activities. One of my favorite past times has always been fishing. Well one particular day I was down at the bottom of a large rock pile fishing by the water. When I turned around I saw my step sister approaching, as she neared me I heard her telling me that she wanted a turn fishing as well, well I wasn't having it and told her I wasn't giving up my rod. She argued a bit further about it but I was relentless in saying no, so she left. I knew exactly where she was going ... to tell her mom or my dad that I wasn't sharing. True enough, she returned about 5 minutes later this time as the messenger telling me that her mom said I had to give her a turn. I didn't particularly care, she was literally going to have to rip the rod out of the death grip I had over it. I'm not necessarily sure why I didn't want to share, I wasn't even catching fish, I think I just wanted to spite her. Well anyways eventually she had enough of this, and the next thing I know was a sharp blow to the head. I don't remember much after that except that fishing was definitely done for the day. What had happened was from her elevated position, she decided to pick up half of a cinder block and conveniently drop it on my head. I ended up being okay, but I don't really remember much of anything beyond that, so I am guessing it caused some sort of damage.
Unfortunately this wasn't the only time I'd be hit in the head by one of my siblings. On Saturday's we would collect an allowance for doing our share of chores around the house. Well one day after collecting we went up to the variety store to spend some money on candy (it actually ended up usually being all of our money, what else does a kid spend their money on?) If our parents didn't have exact change, it was my job to take a bigger bill, and split it up evenly. Well one Saturday I did just that and my step sister had a purchase she wanted to make that was a little bit more than the money she had. So she told me to give her a bit more of the money because she really wanted this particular item. I however, wasn't about to do that because it wasn't my money to be giving out, I had to get the correct change back to my dad. So I went in to make my purchase and came out to find her on the payphone, no doubt calling her mom. True enough she called me over saying that her mom wanted to talk to me. As I stroll over to the phone, she cocked her arm back and let struck me right over the top of my head with it. Definitely one of the worst phone calls I've ever taken in my life.
After that her and I got older and no longer really had any battles because I quickly learned I couldn't hit a girl. Despite those two incidents, the bigger tilts were always between me and my brother. I would pick on him to no end, most times I would end out on top, though there are two cases where I clearly did not. Growing up in Canada with the amount of snow we would get on the lake it made for some great forts. Well I always had to make the tunnel, and once I got a good tunnel going no one could go in it. So here I am making this real great tunnel one day with my head in it trying to carve it out perfectly. As I backed out ass end first, I knew my brother was in the vicinity but didn't expect any sort of ambush as I was pretty much keeping to myself. Wrong! As my head cleared the entrance of the tunnel on the way out, my brother thought it would be a good opportunity to take the spade shovel that I had been using to strike me in the back of the head. I cried, but mostly because I think it was the first time my little brother got the best of me. It was honestly a move right out of WWE wrestling. I later gave him props for doing it. This wouldn't be the last time he would get the best of me though.
The ultimate injury I ever received from any of the siblings was again from my brother. I don't even remember what started this battle we had going, but I remember that for most of it I was winning. At the same time I was pleased with myself because we were engaged in an area that my parents couldn't hear us. Well when you get someone defenseless they will do what ever it takes to win. Even if that means taking a Phillips screw driver and planting it right in the side of your knee. I learned this the hard way. When it happened, it hurt so much, I yelled big time. He ran, I think he was scared not so much about what I might have done or what my dad was going to do when he found out, but he was genuinely concerned he had gone too far...after all here I was with a screw driver hanging out of the inside of my leg...literally. I ended up just pulling it out as it was really only the tip in there. But for quite a few years later I had the trademark Phillips (star shaped) scar to show for it.
The last time I ever fought my brother was when we were living together while I was in University. He had grown much more than I had, and was well over 6 feet tall and outweighed me by at least 75lbs. It was over money that he owed me for utilities as I controlled that aspect of the house. It was a pretty good battle that somehow ended outside in the front lawn. I'm sure it looked really mature as we were rolling around in the grass in broad daylight. As soon as he had me pinned I knew it was the last battle we'd ever have that I would initiate. He knew it as well because he could have easily inflicted more damage than he did, he never liked fighting.
People always warned me that one day he'd be bigger than I would so I shouldn't pick on him...The way I see it; I probably should have listened.
I could totally relate to most of her story, and it inspired me enough to get me thinking of my own childhood and the things that I ended up getting myself into. I grew up in a very small town - 600 people or so - and am a product of a very diverse family. My dad and mom split up when I was about 4 years old and eventually my dad, who had custody of my younger brother (4 years younger) and I, remarried to a woman who had a daughter that was 2 years younger than I was (thus 2 years older than my brother). So being the oldest of the three children, I used to enjoy flexing my elderly status both from a responsibility standpoint as well as a physical one. For the most part we were pretty good kids, but there were times that things got a bit out of control.
We were lucky enough to live on the lake as kids, and because of this would participate in quite a few water oriented activities. One of my favorite past times has always been fishing. Well one particular day I was down at the bottom of a large rock pile fishing by the water. When I turned around I saw my step sister approaching, as she neared me I heard her telling me that she wanted a turn fishing as well, well I wasn't having it and told her I wasn't giving up my rod. She argued a bit further about it but I was relentless in saying no, so she left. I knew exactly where she was going ... to tell her mom or my dad that I wasn't sharing. True enough, she returned about 5 minutes later this time as the messenger telling me that her mom said I had to give her a turn. I didn't particularly care, she was literally going to have to rip the rod out of the death grip I had over it. I'm not necessarily sure why I didn't want to share, I wasn't even catching fish, I think I just wanted to spite her. Well anyways eventually she had enough of this, and the next thing I know was a sharp blow to the head. I don't remember much after that except that fishing was definitely done for the day. What had happened was from her elevated position, she decided to pick up half of a cinder block and conveniently drop it on my head. I ended up being okay, but I don't really remember much of anything beyond that, so I am guessing it caused some sort of damage.
Unfortunately this wasn't the only time I'd be hit in the head by one of my siblings. On Saturday's we would collect an allowance for doing our share of chores around the house. Well one day after collecting we went up to the variety store to spend some money on candy (it actually ended up usually being all of our money, what else does a kid spend their money on?) If our parents didn't have exact change, it was my job to take a bigger bill, and split it up evenly. Well one Saturday I did just that and my step sister had a purchase she wanted to make that was a little bit more than the money she had. So she told me to give her a bit more of the money because she really wanted this particular item. I however, wasn't about to do that because it wasn't my money to be giving out, I had to get the correct change back to my dad. So I went in to make my purchase and came out to find her on the payphone, no doubt calling her mom. True enough she called me over saying that her mom wanted to talk to me. As I stroll over to the phone, she cocked her arm back and let struck me right over the top of my head with it. Definitely one of the worst phone calls I've ever taken in my life.
After that her and I got older and no longer really had any battles because I quickly learned I couldn't hit a girl. Despite those two incidents, the bigger tilts were always between me and my brother. I would pick on him to no end, most times I would end out on top, though there are two cases where I clearly did not. Growing up in Canada with the amount of snow we would get on the lake it made for some great forts. Well I always had to make the tunnel, and once I got a good tunnel going no one could go in it. So here I am making this real great tunnel one day with my head in it trying to carve it out perfectly. As I backed out ass end first, I knew my brother was in the vicinity but didn't expect any sort of ambush as I was pretty much keeping to myself. Wrong! As my head cleared the entrance of the tunnel on the way out, my brother thought it would be a good opportunity to take the spade shovel that I had been using to strike me in the back of the head. I cried, but mostly because I think it was the first time my little brother got the best of me. It was honestly a move right out of WWE wrestling. I later gave him props for doing it. This wouldn't be the last time he would get the best of me though.
The ultimate injury I ever received from any of the siblings was again from my brother. I don't even remember what started this battle we had going, but I remember that for most of it I was winning. At the same time I was pleased with myself because we were engaged in an area that my parents couldn't hear us. Well when you get someone defenseless they will do what ever it takes to win. Even if that means taking a Phillips screw driver and planting it right in the side of your knee. I learned this the hard way. When it happened, it hurt so much, I yelled big time. He ran, I think he was scared not so much about what I might have done or what my dad was going to do when he found out, but he was genuinely concerned he had gone too far...after all here I was with a screw driver hanging out of the inside of my leg...literally. I ended up just pulling it out as it was really only the tip in there. But for quite a few years later I had the trademark Phillips (star shaped) scar to show for it.
The last time I ever fought my brother was when we were living together while I was in University. He had grown much more than I had, and was well over 6 feet tall and outweighed me by at least 75lbs. It was over money that he owed me for utilities as I controlled that aspect of the house. It was a pretty good battle that somehow ended outside in the front lawn. I'm sure it looked really mature as we were rolling around in the grass in broad daylight. As soon as he had me pinned I knew it was the last battle we'd ever have that I would initiate. He knew it as well because he could have easily inflicted more damage than he did, he never liked fighting.
People always warned me that one day he'd be bigger than I would so I shouldn't pick on him...The way I see it; I probably should have listened.
Tuesday, February 3, 2009
Hi My Name is Sean, and I'm an addict...
What's that old saying?
"Monkey see, monkey do", right?
A couple of years ago, when I was at a different job I had the opportunity to go to California for a training class. I was stoked because I had never been to California prior, and thought it would be a cool place to visit. Besides, at the time it was maybe Feb/March so escaping the Detroit weather for a couple of days sounded like a pretty sweet deal.
Originally I was supposed to be going with my team lead at the time, but a prior engagement would delay him, and so he wouldn't be arriving until the next day.
It was a bit awkward for me at first as I had never really spent significant time one on one with my team lead before. In fact when I was hired for the position I was living in Chatham, Ontario at the time working as a co-op student for Siemens VDO and so when I had my interview, it was all done over the phone. I never at all had any face to face interviews with anyone, which I imagine is quite unheard of for anyone right out of University. Anyways, over the next day or two I was witness to something truly remarkable. My team lead would consume espresso by the bunches, I'm talking like 4 shots at a time and it wasn't even mixed in anything. This was 4 shots of espresso straight up. I had never seen anything like this before, it always seemed like when he had it in his system he was just switched on intellectually. I remember going to Starbucks after one of the classes and listening to him just go off on what he's done with SNMP and how cool it really was. If I wouldn't have known that it was the espresso talking, I would have been fully convinced that he had some sort of attention deficit disorder.
That night we ended up going out for dinner at Red Robin (which was another first for me...it's quite good by the way), it was also quite convenient as it was right near the hotel we were staying at. So anyways, after dinner we had a drink, and then that turned into another drink and then eventually I found myself face to face with an old friend...Wild Turkey. I hadn't seen the 'turkeler' for a few years and was surprised that he actually found it there. Anyways that night was honestly one of the best night's I've had and still is. I wasn't drunk, but I was definitely feeling very talkative and very open. It was great because I had some of the best conversation that one could have. We talked about everything really, from work to some very deep personal conversation. I'm convinced that night we went into Red Robin as colleagues and left as good friends. The only problem with it, was the next day our flight was to leave LAX at like 7am. Not knowing what the traffic would be like going into LA the next day, we decided it would be best to leave for the airport at like 4:30am or something crazy like that.
When we finally got to our gate and had about an hour or so to spare, I decided that I was going to try my hand at Starbucks for the first time in my life. My first drink ever was a Cinnamon Dolce Latte, I don't know if I could pick a fancier drink if I tried. Anyways the one shot of espresso that was in there, got me going pretty good. It was like a second wind, I remember getting all sort of different ideas that related to work and was pretty impressed with this drink had given me. Since that day, it's as if I am popeye and espresso is my spinach...I went from 1 shot drinks, to 2 shot drinks and now have settled on a triple long espresso con panna. In fact the title of this blog stems from my love of Starbucks, as on the sides of each cup there is a "The Way I See it" quote.
So this habit that I have is definitely one I am glad I picked up. My only regret is that I didn't discover it sooner as I am quite sure it would have been a big help those days that I used to spend studying in the library at university for 12-16 hours a day (what can I say, I'm a perfectionist).
"Monkey see, monkey do", right?
A couple of years ago, when I was at a different job I had the opportunity to go to California for a training class. I was stoked because I had never been to California prior, and thought it would be a cool place to visit. Besides, at the time it was maybe Feb/March so escaping the Detroit weather for a couple of days sounded like a pretty sweet deal.
Originally I was supposed to be going with my team lead at the time, but a prior engagement would delay him, and so he wouldn't be arriving until the next day.
It was a bit awkward for me at first as I had never really spent significant time one on one with my team lead before. In fact when I was hired for the position I was living in Chatham, Ontario at the time working as a co-op student for Siemens VDO and so when I had my interview, it was all done over the phone. I never at all had any face to face interviews with anyone, which I imagine is quite unheard of for anyone right out of University. Anyways, over the next day or two I was witness to something truly remarkable. My team lead would consume espresso by the bunches, I'm talking like 4 shots at a time and it wasn't even mixed in anything. This was 4 shots of espresso straight up. I had never seen anything like this before, it always seemed like when he had it in his system he was just switched on intellectually. I remember going to Starbucks after one of the classes and listening to him just go off on what he's done with SNMP and how cool it really was. If I wouldn't have known that it was the espresso talking, I would have been fully convinced that he had some sort of attention deficit disorder.
That night we ended up going out for dinner at Red Robin (which was another first for me...it's quite good by the way), it was also quite convenient as it was right near the hotel we were staying at. So anyways, after dinner we had a drink, and then that turned into another drink and then eventually I found myself face to face with an old friend...Wild Turkey. I hadn't seen the 'turkeler' for a few years and was surprised that he actually found it there. Anyways that night was honestly one of the best night's I've had and still is. I wasn't drunk, but I was definitely feeling very talkative and very open. It was great because I had some of the best conversation that one could have. We talked about everything really, from work to some very deep personal conversation. I'm convinced that night we went into Red Robin as colleagues and left as good friends. The only problem with it, was the next day our flight was to leave LAX at like 7am. Not knowing what the traffic would be like going into LA the next day, we decided it would be best to leave for the airport at like 4:30am or something crazy like that.
When we finally got to our gate and had about an hour or so to spare, I decided that I was going to try my hand at Starbucks for the first time in my life. My first drink ever was a Cinnamon Dolce Latte, I don't know if I could pick a fancier drink if I tried. Anyways the one shot of espresso that was in there, got me going pretty good. It was like a second wind, I remember getting all sort of different ideas that related to work and was pretty impressed with this drink had given me. Since that day, it's as if I am popeye and espresso is my spinach...I went from 1 shot drinks, to 2 shot drinks and now have settled on a triple long espresso con panna. In fact the title of this blog stems from my love of Starbucks, as on the sides of each cup there is a "The Way I See it" quote.
So this habit that I have is definitely one I am glad I picked up. My only regret is that I didn't discover it sooner as I am quite sure it would have been a big help those days that I used to spend studying in the library at university for 12-16 hours a day (what can I say, I'm a perfectionist).
Monday, February 2, 2009
Let it rock.
Time for a little sports blog.
First off, Superbowl yesterday. Amazing game! I was really hoping for a Cardinal's win, because they were the underdog and I think Larry Fitzgerald is one of the first wide receivers who doesn't come across as a thug. That said however, this game was amazing regardless. It was definitely on the same level of last years Superbowl XLII. But honestly, congratulations to the Steelers, that defence never stopped and was really amazing this year.
Being a Lions fan, I can finally start the healing process as the team enters this years draft with a plethora of picks and most importantly no Matt Millen. Every Lions fan has their own thoughts as to what should happen in the off-season. I've read suggestions that the Lions should use the #1 overall pick on Matt Stafford who is the quarterback from Georgia. I don't agree with this at all. The reason I don't agree with this, is because the QB position in my mind isn't the one the Lions need to focus on. Also, let's not forget that Drew Stanton was drafted two years ago in the second round. So he's not a first round QB, but if the Lions don't create an offensive line in front of the QB then they aren't really fixing anything. If the Lions are so dead set on getting a QB this year, then I have some suggestions. First off, see what happens with the Patriots and their QB issues. Tom Brady has recently said that he would be ready to come back for next season providing there are no further set backs in his recovery. At the same time though the Patriots found out just how good their second string QB, Matt Cassell, is this season while filling in for the injured Brady. Cassell is to become a free agent this year, so it could mean an exit from New England for him, if so the Lions should find out what it might cost. What I expect to see happen though is New England will attach their franchise player tag to Cassell in order to keep him atleast one more season so that they can see exactly how Brady comes back from his injury. This leads me to scenario #2 which is quite a bit more controversial. Providing the NFL allows it, Michael Vick is set to be released from prison this offseason. I know I'm not making any fans with PETA here, but I think if the stars align right, Vick would be a worthy NFL signing based on what he can bring to the struggling club. If the Lions don't create some sort of offensive line, a QB like Vick can at the very least buy himself a bit extra time as he was one of the best scramblers in his prime. Now don't go thinking for a second that I condone what Vick did to land himself in prison, I don't. But at the same time, I do believe in second chances and not letting him play in the NFL isn't going to make anything better at all. He was punished already and served his time, to punish him further isn't for PETA to decide.
Anyways, that's my take on the Lions.
Continuing on my controversial war path today, I'd like to talk about the recent Michael Phelps news about surrounding him smoking pot. In a nutshell my thoughts really are "so what?". I get that he's a role model to alot of young kids who aspire to achieve the level of success that he's had and that it's not something that they need to see, and I myself don't think they need to see that. At the same time though, I look at it as "Wow, Phelps really is human". Now this isn't the first time Phelps has been in the negative spot light. Let's not forgot what happened in the months following the 2004 Summer Olympics when Phelps was arrested under suspcion of driving intoxicated. It almost seems as if this recent story is creating more outrage than that story from '04. I guess this is possibly because of what he accomplished at the Beijing Games, but I don't think it should. I suppose that what it comes down to is what everyone's opinion on marijuana is really is. I don't want to come out and say that I am in favor of a drug because then it sounds like I am an advocate for everything from marijuana to meth to heroin. But I don't consider marijuana to be any more harmful than alcohol and definitely not as bad as the common nicotine filled cigarettes. In fact, if I could legalize marijuana, I would. It's a bold step for sure, but when I run through the pro's and cons, the pro's seem to win everytime. Now do I think it should just be a big free-for all party, no I don't at all. I think you should implement rules around it, the same way alcohol is goverened.
As a quick tangent, because I know the question might be burning in some of my readers (both pulbic and anonymous), yes I have tried marijuana in my past. No I didn't all of a sudden add "man" to the end of each sentence. No I didn't all of a sudden start to fail all of my classes or drop out of school, in fact I entered University and started pulling off A's in most of my classes. No I didn't sit in front of the TV and all of a sudden become a blob on the couch. No I didn't shut my friends and family out of my life. No I didn't become addicted. No it didn't act as a gateway drug which would propell me into the really hard stuff. In fact if anything, I really found out that there was a lot of hype and fabricated facts about it.
Anyways, back to Mr. Phelps, the only thing that was wrong in my mind is that this picture ever got out. Phelps is 23 years old, and news flash, I'm pretty sure this isn't either the first or last time that he experiments. Worse things could and are happening in the world.
I'll leave my sports stories at that for now. I wanted to discuss my struggling habs, but it would just give me a heartache.
Happy Monday.
First off, Superbowl yesterday. Amazing game! I was really hoping for a Cardinal's win, because they were the underdog and I think Larry Fitzgerald is one of the first wide receivers who doesn't come across as a thug. That said however, this game was amazing regardless. It was definitely on the same level of last years Superbowl XLII. But honestly, congratulations to the Steelers, that defence never stopped and was really amazing this year.
Being a Lions fan, I can finally start the healing process as the team enters this years draft with a plethora of picks and most importantly no Matt Millen. Every Lions fan has their own thoughts as to what should happen in the off-season. I've read suggestions that the Lions should use the #1 overall pick on Matt Stafford who is the quarterback from Georgia. I don't agree with this at all. The reason I don't agree with this, is because the QB position in my mind isn't the one the Lions need to focus on. Also, let's not forget that Drew Stanton was drafted two years ago in the second round. So he's not a first round QB, but if the Lions don't create an offensive line in front of the QB then they aren't really fixing anything. If the Lions are so dead set on getting a QB this year, then I have some suggestions. First off, see what happens with the Patriots and their QB issues. Tom Brady has recently said that he would be ready to come back for next season providing there are no further set backs in his recovery. At the same time though the Patriots found out just how good their second string QB, Matt Cassell, is this season while filling in for the injured Brady. Cassell is to become a free agent this year, so it could mean an exit from New England for him, if so the Lions should find out what it might cost. What I expect to see happen though is New England will attach their franchise player tag to Cassell in order to keep him atleast one more season so that they can see exactly how Brady comes back from his injury. This leads me to scenario #2 which is quite a bit more controversial. Providing the NFL allows it, Michael Vick is set to be released from prison this offseason. I know I'm not making any fans with PETA here, but I think if the stars align right, Vick would be a worthy NFL signing based on what he can bring to the struggling club. If the Lions don't create some sort of offensive line, a QB like Vick can at the very least buy himself a bit extra time as he was one of the best scramblers in his prime. Now don't go thinking for a second that I condone what Vick did to land himself in prison, I don't. But at the same time, I do believe in second chances and not letting him play in the NFL isn't going to make anything better at all. He was punished already and served his time, to punish him further isn't for PETA to decide.
Anyways, that's my take on the Lions.
Continuing on my controversial war path today, I'd like to talk about the recent Michael Phelps news about surrounding him smoking pot. In a nutshell my thoughts really are "so what?". I get that he's a role model to alot of young kids who aspire to achieve the level of success that he's had and that it's not something that they need to see, and I myself don't think they need to see that. At the same time though, I look at it as "Wow, Phelps really is human". Now this isn't the first time Phelps has been in the negative spot light. Let's not forgot what happened in the months following the 2004 Summer Olympics when Phelps was arrested under suspcion of driving intoxicated. It almost seems as if this recent story is creating more outrage than that story from '04. I guess this is possibly because of what he accomplished at the Beijing Games, but I don't think it should. I suppose that what it comes down to is what everyone's opinion on marijuana is really is. I don't want to come out and say that I am in favor of a drug because then it sounds like I am an advocate for everything from marijuana to meth to heroin. But I don't consider marijuana to be any more harmful than alcohol and definitely not as bad as the common nicotine filled cigarettes. In fact, if I could legalize marijuana, I would. It's a bold step for sure, but when I run through the pro's and cons, the pro's seem to win everytime. Now do I think it should just be a big free-for all party, no I don't at all. I think you should implement rules around it, the same way alcohol is goverened.
As a quick tangent, because I know the question might be burning in some of my readers (both pulbic and anonymous), yes I have tried marijuana in my past. No I didn't all of a sudden add "man" to the end of each sentence. No I didn't all of a sudden start to fail all of my classes or drop out of school, in fact I entered University and started pulling off A's in most of my classes. No I didn't sit in front of the TV and all of a sudden become a blob on the couch. No I didn't shut my friends and family out of my life. No I didn't become addicted. No it didn't act as a gateway drug which would propell me into the really hard stuff. In fact if anything, I really found out that there was a lot of hype and fabricated facts about it.
Anyways, back to Mr. Phelps, the only thing that was wrong in my mind is that this picture ever got out. Phelps is 23 years old, and news flash, I'm pretty sure this isn't either the first or last time that he experiments. Worse things could and are happening in the world.
I'll leave my sports stories at that for now. I wanted to discuss my struggling habs, but it would just give me a heartache.
Happy Monday.
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