I know I’m Canadian, but thought since I work for an American company and I have today off, I’d send along some best wishes from me to you…
Monthly Archives: May 2010
This video is making the rounds at an insane pace right now. I’m absolutely disgusted and blown away by this thing. I mean, I’m not even sure what to say about it all.
Don’t know what I’m referring to? Check out this video…
This, my friends, is TWO YEAR OLD Ardi Rizal. He apparently had his first cigarette at eighteen months. He smokes TWO PACKS A DAY (yes…40 cigarettes). His father gave him a cigarette when he was only 18 months old and now, apparently, he’s addicted.
“He cries and throws tantrums when we don’t let him smoke. He’s addicted. I’m not worried about his health…he looks healthy.” – Mohammed Rizal
This almost seems too unbelievable to be true. If it weren’t for the video and the pictures, there would be no way in the world that I could ever believe this.
I smoked a 25-pack of cigarettes every single day for 16 years. I’ve been smoke-free now for just over six years. I know the damage I’ve done to my body and I’m praying that it doesn’t come back to bite me in the ass as I grow older.
So to know that this douchebag gave a cigarette to his son…his 18-MONTH OLD BABY…and now whines because the child will throw tantrums if he doesn’t have a cigarette just makes my blood boil.
But the father isn’t the only one to blame here. The mother is just sitting back and letting it all happen, too…
“He’s totally addicted. If he doesn’t get cigarettes, he gets angry and screams and batters his head against the wall. He tells me he feels dizzy and sick.” – Diana Rizal
SO DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT!!
Seriously…I’m just blown away at the idiocy of this family unit. And I know they live in Indonesia, but you can’t blame where they live for their lack of intelligence. Surely to goodness just about anybody on the planet realizes that having a child smoke isn’t the healthiest thing in the world to do.
Can you believe this sh*t??
My father was a bit on the strict side. I can look back and see that I can appreciate what he was trying to teach me much of the time. And from looking back, there are a few stories that have popped back up into my head. One of them had to do with a curfew.
So I was probably in eleventh or even twelfth grade. I was 16 or 17 (it’s all a bit fuzzy) and I was normally the designated driver for my friends when we went out to parties on the weekend. My parents knew I didn’t drink too much (I still don’t) so they didn’t have major problems with me going out to parties as long as I was home on time.
One Friday night I was on the way home from a party. The curfew was midnight. I had enough time to get home and didn’t even think twice about how much time I actually had. As I was getting closer, I realized that I was cutting it a bit close. In my mind, though, what would a minute or two matter? The whole point of a curfew was to not abuse it and to make sure you’re home and build trust.
More than a couple of minutes and I can understand that trust being strained.
Okay, so I walked through the front door at…from my watch at least…midnight. I greeted the folks and didn’t think twice about it. In fact, I looked at what they were watching and noticed that the news had just started…literally seconds after they previewed the top stories for the evening.
“What are you talking about? It’s midnight. The news just started.”
“Todd, you’re one minute late. I told you to be home by midnight. It’s 12:01am. Consider yourself grounded for the next week.”
I was absolutely flabbergasted.
“I’m sorry, but I don’t quite get this. I’m being grounded over being a minute late by your clock??”
“Yes. My clock is the only one that matters. Don’t be late again.”
Did I learn my lesson? Well…I’ve certainly tried to be on time ever since. I still think it was a bit excessive, though. I didn’t feel like I was trying to push the limits or the boundaries set by my parents, but they apparently did.
I think I’ve got more of these stories inside of me, and I expect them to come out sporadically over the coming weeks as I try to figure out why my past affects my present so much. I’m hoping this introspection helps me…because as I get older and happier in my life there still appear to be issues that prevent me from truly enjoying my happiness. The hope is that I can get this straightened out.
From what I’ve been told, there are a few “loose ends” I need to tie-up or update on. So I suppose I should probably do it now…
1. My house hasn’t sold. The financing for the buyer officially fell through last Thursday. It really sucks, too, because I was starting to get very excited about the prospect of starting over again in a place of my own…in a place where I wouldn’t have to walk on eggshells…in a place where I would be the designer (although that’s not such a great thing). So the house is back on the market. I painted my front steps yesterday and I’ll be painting the back deck sometime this week so the hope is that it becomes just a bit more appealing to prospective buyers. The problem is that the overall market is pretty much dead at the moment. None of the dozen homes in my park have sold and there isn’t a whole lot available at the moment, anyway. So for now, I’m going to continue to plug along until something changes.
2. As of my last weigh-in, I was down 4 pounds in the latest “Biggest Loser” contest that started at work. Or should I say…that I started at work. I’m weighing-in again tomorrow so my hope is that I’m down another couple of pounds. I didn’t eat much of anything while Ankle Biter was in the hospital last week, so while it’s not the healthiest way to go the hope is that I at least dropped down in weight a little bit. I’m walking every day and drinking lots of water. The only thing I’m not doing is eating as well as I’d like. I’m not eating entirely UNhealthy, but I could be doing much better. It’s just been two weeks of health-related stress with my son so I haven’t really had the chance to dive into this diet like I originally wanted to. It’s always something, right?
3. Ankle Biter’s doing great. After two stressful weeks, it looks like my son is getting back on track health-wise. He was pretty zonked after getting his tonsils & adenoids taken out along with getting tubes in his ears a couple of weeks ago, but then he was hit pretty hard again with a skin infection in his ear that forced him back on an IV and into the hospital for another 48 hours. As of last night, though, he seems to be almost back to 100%. And as tired as I am, I’m just extremely relieved that he’s feeling better. Now, if only I could get him to take his medicine without it being a 4-alarm fire.
4. Rugrat and I aren’t talking very much lately. I’m still sending her cards and pictures and I’ve left messages with her mom, but we haven’t talked on the phone in quite some time. I don’t think she’s mad at me…and I probably should be calling every night until she gets on the phone. But I understand our relationship. She’s not as close with me as I’d like her to be, and so this is the relationship that we share. It’s not a bad one…at least I don’t think it is…but it’s not the best, either. It is what it is. When we do talk, she’s quiet a lot but does want to come visit me. So at the end of the day, I’m just going to keep doing what I’m doing…calling, sending cards & photos & eCards online…and making sure she always knows how much I love her. I truly believe that as she gets older, she’ll appreciate that I never forgot her or set her aside (well…at least not in the past few years since I finally grew up).