You Can Always Make It to the Top

Recently I've started biking with a group of true, hard-core road cyclists who are taking me to my limits every Thursday and Saturday. Yesterday it was a 40-mile bike ride, culminating with an 8-mile mountain climb to the top of a peak overlooking the entire Denver area and a good part of the Rockies.
We had made the climb on Thursday as well, and since I was sore from that trip I wasn't sure if I would be able to make it. I mentioned it to my buddy Sam, and he said something that could probably be applied to a lot of situations: “You can always make it to the top.” Well, I did it, and I'll do it again this week, because it's all about heart. We've got the strength, we've got the guts to make it to the top; we've just got to believe it. When our last little bit of energy is spent, we turn around and realize that we've got tons of energy stored up for that very moment, that all we have to do is let ourselves dig it up. The only way to find your limits is to push yourself so far that you realize that you set your own. That's why we get up every day and study. That's why we keep doing whatever necessary to live our lives and become better people. That's why Jesus Christ showed us he had no limits, because he wants us to realize that our limits are in our minds, that we have no idea how great we could become .

Annoyed

So, today I spent a long time on the phone with a woman who works for the Department of Human Services in Colorado. Let's spell the situation out for you: I am taking 20 credit hours per semester in nursing school, and cannot work. Stephanie is at home, currently looking for a part-time job in which she could continue to care for Braeden, two months old. We have no income. Health insurance costs about $350 per month for our family for plans with a $2,000 deductible, which means that we are currently underinsured or not insured at all.
I disagree with our current health care system. I think it is a robbery. I wish everybody had quality health care, and that there was no such thing as health insurance to cover the costs of healthcare, that it was just another business. Instead, it is a business that robs insurance companies blind, who in turn rob their clients blind, who finally have to turn to government for aid in programs that are robbing everyone in the United States and putting our country in insurmountable debt.
Well, starting in January of next year we'll be paying for our own healthcare, one way or another, once I graduate from school. For the next twelve months, we are applying for Braeden to be covered with Medicaid so that he can continue to receive healthcare. We will also spend the rest of our lives paying at least 6% toward FICA and “Social Security” to fund the welfare and Medicaid programs.
The phone conversation was very indicative of how our government works: apparently, federal loans intended to pay for tuition costs qualify as “income.” Now, I'm positive that if I could somehow speak with the right person (someone who speaks English and has been in the country for more than 2 years), I would be able to help him see that those loans are different than income. If a person went and applied for food stamps, and the worker asked if they had any credit cards and received an affirmative answer, then the worker is most likely not going to say “Well, then! Just use those for food! Why are you applying for food stamps if you have credit cards?”. That is basically what I'm getting from the social worker, because I have the option of receiving all the loans that my little heart could possibly wish for, regardless of the fact that if I actually did so then I would be paying 50% of my paycheck for ten years after graduation.
You see, this is the entire of having government pushed into every part of our system; while there are benefits, like receiving healthcare for a child (well, not that we qualified, but you get my meaning) when unemployed, we have to be okay with the fact that whatever moron on shift that day is running our lives. Let's face it; if the government hadn't guaranteed student loans to everyone, it would be virtually impossible for colleges to be charging so much tuition because none of the students could afford it, which means that I wouldn't be in the situation of not being able to live without some sort of loan, which apparently disqualify me from receiving the same aid I have been paying for over the course of the past ten years (yes, everyone pays FICA and SS; nobody is exempt except for our upcoming treasurer, according to his track record).
Yes, I'm in a somewhat terrible mood about this. Fine. We'll play the game. We'll suffer the loss in origination fees, but we'll pay back our loans that were originally meant for tuition in two months. But next year, I'm going to learn so much about the loopholes of paying taxes that the government is going to be grappling thin air in an attempt to bury us. Thanks, social worker, for helping me see the light; now, go fetch.

Hello, world! Braeden has recently taken to flipping himself over at will, from his stomach to his back. Good job Braeden!

Ah, Fort Arvada it is!

Ok, so it's been a really long time since I've written on here, mostly because of the hectic moving atmosphere and adjusting to a new place in my life. Right now, I'm listening to a wonderful song by Faith Hill (yes I'm a nerd), and appreciating how much art is involved in song-writing. Speaking of song-writing, we somehow acquired a copy of David Archuleta's new CD, and I was dismally disappointed. The songs aren't him. They're obviously written by someone else, most of them have virtually no meaning whatsoever, and I think it is a disgusting waste of his incredible talent. What good is it to have the best voice in the world if you're not expressing yourself when you sing? I mean, seriously, a meaningful song performed by a nine-year-old is better than an empty deluge of pre-teen fantasies.
Ok, off my little rant. Things are great here in Fort Arvada, right next to Fort Denver (I've decided to prefix every Colorado location with the word “fort”). I made a bet with Steph yesterday that I'd beat her to the next city on my road bike, but was robbed the victory by a ludicrously busy hill the size of Mount Timpanogas that forced me to the dirt roadside. I was riding over 40 miles per hour going down the other side, which should tell you at least something about how bit this hill was. Nevertheless, it put me behind schedule and I made the 12 mile bike ride in more time than it took my wife to drive through traffic. Rats.
I took a walk the day before, nearly taking a swing at a man who startled me so bad I thought I was going to faint from the change in blood pressure. You see, I was trolling along with Braeden in the ATV (meaning his $140 stroller) and this guy comes jogging up beside me, under a bridge, wearing dark clothing and a black hood over his head. This is Denver, guys, and the graffiti combined with my normally jumpy self contributed to the scare that pushed its way out of my chest in the form of an Indian yelp. I actually think I may have startled the jogger as much as vice versa.
Last item: once upon a time, there was a place in Tennessee named Lafayette. Unfortunately, the residents there were fifth-generation folks whose ancestors never spoke French in the first place, so the name had somehow become twisted to be “La-FAY-et,” as in “That woman, La Fay is her name, et it!” If one ever attempted to pronounce the city's name correctly, any nearby loyal, law-abiding citizens would immediately jump on the correct-the-stranger wagon, and thus the city is not known by its original pronunciation.
End of the story is that Arvada is pronounced with the “a” as in “add.” Thus, arvAda is our new home, bright and beautiful. I washed and waxed our car three days ago and it snowed today. Thanks, weather-man, I'm going to egg your house tomorrow. Merry New Year, everyone!