All Up In The AirDropping things since 2003!

Last time I saw my grandma was over Christmas. She kept saying that this would be her last holiday before she died. We all told her she was being silly. At 92, she was in better health than some people half her age. Turns out she was right.

One week ago my grandma was alive and well. She had some chest congestion that she was going to go to the doctor for on Monday. She was still living in the house she raised her kids in, still driving herself around. One week ago I went to work, hung out with friends, and was starting to consider the idea of visiting my grandma in Cleveland sometime over the summer. Fast forward one week and all of a sudden I’m flying to Cleveland to go to her funeral. It happened that fast.

Monday she was admitted to the hospital. Tuesday my dad got to Cleveland to spend the night with her. Wednesday morning she was gone. Friday I’m flying to Cleveland. Saturday we bury her. Monday I fly back home to resume my regular work schedule exactly one week after it all started.

I am fully aware that she lived a long, full life and that we should all be lucky enough to live as long as she did in as good condition as she did. I know it was her time and she went relatively swiftly with her sons by her side. I am also aware that she was probably ready to go. Better now than before her quality of life faded. All in all, not a bad way to go.

The part of me that is the most sad is the selfish part of me. Her house and belongings will be sold and all I’ll have left are my fond childhood memories of visiting her in her house that was like stepping back in time to the 40’s or 50’s. She always baked muffins for me when I came to visit and made cream of wheat for me every morning for breakfast while I was there. She always asserted her opinion that sounded like a quote from a 1950’s women’s magazine. She was so proper, such a lady. She’s gone and all I can think about is how it will affect my life, my memories.

I’ve gotten mixed reactions from friends and co-workers about all this. They have ranged from being deeply sorry for my loss all the way to “that’s life, learn to accpet it”. I know this is life but it’s still a loss I have to deal with. Time will heal all wounds. Right now it’s so fresh.

My grandma died yesterday. She was 93 years old and was a strong, loving lady right up until the end. I know she lived a long, full life but I can’t help but feel loss.

One of the reasons I’ve wanted to get into photography is because of an amazing photographer I met when I first moved to Las Vegas. He specializes in night photography and his photos are amazing. Now that I have a decent camera I can work towards becoming half the photographer he is.

Here is one of my first attempts at a long exposure shot taken from the balcony of my apartment. It was a full moon but a really cloudy night. Not too shabby but definitely room for improvement.

Cheesy title, I know.

So I did it the right way and went out and bought Reason so I can work on music again. Did you read that? I bought it. I paid money for it. I did not pirate it. So I should have been able to install it on my computer, enter my registration information and get on with my life, right? Wrong.

Instead I had to log onto Propellerhead’s website and create an account. Then I had to wait for a confirmation email so I could proceed. Then when I tried to register my product I was told that someone else had already used that registration code and I should contact customer service to get it sorted out. And that’s where I’m left until someone on their end gets around to fixing the problem. So basically I paid money to install a program that won’t let me past the welcome screen.

If I had pirated it I would already be working on music again.

Look, I know that piracy is a really big issue. Whether you’re for or against organizations like the RIAA, it’s pretty undeniable that some people are truly being hurt by the rampant piracy that goes on. I agree that steps need to be taken to guard against piracy. Really I do. But requiring a registration process like what I’m dealing with now is just going to alienate the good guys who do it the legal way and pay for the software. Besides, even with this whole process that’s supposed to suppress piracy, people are still finding ways around it and nothing is changing.

I’m glad I paid for the software. It’s a quality product and I’m happy to pay for it so they’ll continue putting out quality products. Or at least I’d like to think it’s a quality product. I wouldn’t know at this point because I can’t use it. I’ll let you know what I think about it when I can actually make it past the welcome screen.

It’s been hitting 80 degrees here lately. While it’s really nice right now, it’s also a sign of things to come. I’m not ready for that all-encompassing, knock-you-over heat that summer brings in the desert.

Where was the frost this year? Where was the sight of my breath when I exhaled? I feel like I got gypped out of a season and I’m not very happy about it.

Get over yourself and grow up.

Thanks.

A few of the guys I’ve dated could definitely learn a thing or two from this Craig’s List post(not safe for work). In fact, this should be required reading for some men.

And that’s all I’m going to say about that.

A very good friend of mine has been in town for the last several weeks. Her parents live here and her dad was dying of cancer. Sadly, he died on February 7.

Now that the funeral services are over and she is back with her mom, she has posted some back-dated blog posts on her blog. I found them to be so honest and raw. They really beautifully describe the pain she’s gone through these last few weeks. I recommend reading them to anyone but have the tissues handy. You’ll need them.

Touching Base

brief side note: What a weekend I had! This weekend has been, by far, the best weekend of 2008. OK, I know this is only the sixth weekend into the year but it will rank up there come New Year’s 2009. I promise.

On Friday a friend of mine invited me to the opening of a new show at Planet Hollywood Hotel called Toxic Audio. It was a really great show that I highly recommend you see if you find yourself in the Las Vegas area. Really, I could devote an entire blog post to how great that show was.

I met up with my friend for dinner then we went to a little pre-show party being thrown for the press and invited guests. They had free champagne and cocktails as well as desert. Good stuff.

While we were waiting in line for a cocktail from the bar, a man got in line behind my friend and me and struck up a conversation. He was really friendly and had us laughing a lot. After we got our drinks he invited us back to the table his wife was holding. We went along because it was crowded enough that we probably weren’t going to find another table. Plus this guy was lots of fun.

After a little chatting we were ushered into the theater. It was general seating and my friend suggested we sit next to this couple since they were so much fun. They had us laughing until the lights dimmed and I was glad we chose to sit next to them. But shortly after the show started I wished we were sitting anywhere else.

Ten minutes into the show my attention was diverted from the performers because the woman sitting next to me was having a very, um, animated orgasm. They made no effort to hide what they were doing. The man was manually, um, stimulating her and she was enjoying it very much. They did this throughout the whole show too. Anyone who doubts that women are capable of multiple orgasms has never sat next to this couple in a dimly lit theater.

But, see, here’s the part where I throw up a little bit in my mouth.

When the show was over, the man stood up, said it was nice to meet us and put out his hand for a handshake. I looked at his hand, then looked up at his face, then looked at his hand again. I mentally cursed my mother for teaching me good manners as I extended my hand to return the favor. Only I did one of those girl handshakes where I just let the tips of my fingers touch his. Then I went straight home and boiled my hand in hot water. Blech!