Here's How Pain Works Sometimes

I wake in the night and don't know why. I register something like discomfort, not quite pain. More like being uncomfortably aware of organs you are pretty sure are not supposed to have any feeling at all.

It's like the distant echo of pain--your body always knows before you do. And so begins the unfortunate cycle.

You review your data: this is off schedule, is this gonna be like last month and be the pms that was as bad as the period?, you have detected signs that you were missing before: Yup, seems likely. You about to be in a world of pelvic hurt, probably accompanied by GI shenanigans because, well, because that's how it always goes.

See, the pain is bad. Real bad. When it spikes, sometimes all i can do is just lay there. I try heating pads, I try exercise/sweating it out, I try NSAIDs  in unhealthy amounts, acupuncture, TCM herb treatments (nasty, btw, so very nasty), Rx pain meds (which can at least turn the volume down to a manageable level but good luck getting an Rx these days), clean eating, taking unhealthy amounts of Omega-3 oils, and probably ten other things I can't even think of right now.  Hell, if I had found something to abstain from that would end this chronic misery, I'd like to think I'd be smart enough to take that deal.

But that's the prob--all those small steps can help some, and aggregated you get a multiplier effect. But everything has consequences and costs. And there's still no real pain relief--not when it's really bad. Not even when it's just a constant throb, a dull ache that never goes away. 

(Note: The closest I've found are, frankly, narcotics. They turn it down to dull roar and I can go to work. But you best believe I still have to take NSAIDs and do a lot of other crap to keep the machinery going.)

It's exhausting. If you're lucky, you can take something to sleep or either pass out from exhaustion after several hours/days. But, at that point, your non functional. And still in pain. Just unconscious. Less than ideal, as the man said.

Same deal with heating pads/napalm heat creams. You're tied to an outlet, or your skin is on fire. And thank god that heat can bypass a pain signal. But at a certain point, the heat becomes pain. Also, it's awkward af walking around town in a flop sweat. And you still can't eat, feel like crap and blah blah blah. So, you kinda end up. . . . laying around. Notice a trend?

Anyhoo, so at 2:30 this morning I say, "Eff this skullduggery. I see the dark clouds on the horizon. Quick, let me quaff my restorative tonic!" Which means I took my special blend of benadryl, anaesthesia, ahuyasca, and ex-lax* and went back to bed. 

To awake sometime around 7 with confirmation: the pain has arrived. Batten down the hatches, here we go.

Whatever you've got, take it. Vitamins, NSAIDs, etc. Make sure to drink some dairy but don't eat. Your stomach is just waiting to do you wrong, and it's really gonna pissed after a few days of those NSAIDs. Never take on empty stomach, but never fill stomach.

Take a hot shower. Grab your heating pad. If it's 80 degrees in your house, then get a fan. And prepare to stay in front of it. All day. Think about cold showers too.

And you end up later in the day, now, with the afternoon heat having settled around the houses. Finally broke down at ate something b/c, let's face it, it was neccessary. It was also a bad idea. 

The pain has lapped at you in waves, ceaselessly, all day. It hasn't even kicked into high gear yet. It's just slowly wearing you down. At this point, you are either in a coma, delirious from your meds, or delirious from the pain. None of it is fun. I wonder why I even gained consciousness today--b/c all i can do is wait for tomorrow, hope the period starts soon so it can end soon, and try more coping methods tomorrow.

I'm tired of writing about pain. I'm tired of thinking about pain. But mostly, I'm tired of being in pain.

*Pro-tip: beginners might want to watch it on the ex-lax. don't want to make any foolish mistakes.

witty title here

So--back in SoCal. Two job leads went up in smoke, I flubbed another interview, my haircut is no bueno, and I've been bedridden with pain the last four days.

It has not been a triumphant return.

But hopefully it will get better.

Feeling Crappy? Pass It Along!

This is a shit post drenched in self pity and simmering rage. Please ignore.

• Parent in hospital, going on week 5. Serious mental and physical issues. Getting better but situation seems to require constant supervision. Still can't get all doctors, etc, coordinated. Usual fuckery of healthcare compounded by being in Backwater Shitsville, FL.
• Fuck all insurance companies. To death. With a baseball bat embedded with glass and nails. The state of health "care" in this country is disgusting. 
• I hate Florida. Especially when it rains.
• It's raining.
• Apartment I'm staying at has ongoing issues, including a/c and plumbing. Had to shut off our own water main yesterday, after a spring bubbled to life behind the tub wall. Standing water throughout kitchen, bathroom, and under the carpet. 
• Landlord is scumbag, so we'll see if this gets fixed. Incredibly problematic, bc the leak has been going on for a while and we are talking about ripping up carpets and tearing up walls. None of which this car salesman motherfucker will be willing to do.
• I can't really do anything about any of it, bc it's not my place anyway.
• Parent's home troubles continue, with leaky roof, major plumbing issues, and the standard electrical outages because omg!rain. Who would have expected rain? In Florida, of all all places?
• Relative with terminal diagnosis is foundering around out there. Can't be reached, doesn't want to be reached, and no one has the money to help him out.
• Am broke. Have no job.No prospects. Tons of debt. Medical bills that have got me  on some collection lists now. And they keep coming. Got a bill for $25K the other week. Guess they waited to bill me until after my insurance had ended.
• Several sibs/relatives work for company that has always been shady. Now they are withholding pay and cancelling insurance and shit. Money is tight from loaning out to deadbeats like me. Everyone's job in peril.
• So many problems seem to relate to money. How did we all fuck it up so badly?
• Feel that I don't have any friends to turn to, even for a night out of distraction. Everybody is busy with their own shit and nobody has the time or the energy to take on something as hopeless as this. Those close by are absent--I don't even have any backup places to stay, really. Where have all these friendships gone? I felt that i put a lot of time and energy into their upkeep, but maybe i fucked that up too. Or maybe it's just like it always is: when your usefulness and relevance has expired, you become disposable. 
• I was denied bowling yesterday. I was late to the lanes bc i had to stop and counsel someone and then had to help clean up water disaster in apt. No bueno.
• menstrual cycle--despite medical debt, still not close to be solved, much less treated. b/c it's totally okay to have chronic pain if it's because of girl stuff
• Going to go wash face in hospital bathroom. At least here there is running water.
• Everyone is sad and tired. Apparently, no one has anything left to give. I think I'm about tapped out, myself. And if i wasn't already worthless enough, I lose all value when I lose the ability to deal with other people's shit.
• I'm fucking exhausted. We are all exhausted. There's gotta be a break in this action.
• i missed this season of walking dead. and because the ppl i do know don't have normal cable setups, i can't catch up via normal methods. the networks are such greedy little bitches.
• blah blah wah wah poorlittlemecakes

Headed West

It's been a bit since I've posted.

Life As We Know It took a pause and I took a trip. It was the kind of trip that turns out to be a Life As You Knew It--because things change so much in such a short time.

After 8.5 months back with my family, tending to immediate and extended family business, I'm headed home.

At mile 312 my sadness got the best of me, and I was beset by a terrible longing and great deal of regret.

I was alright again until someone texted me a picture of one of the cats, saying goodnight. That provoked a rather sudden and emotional response.

My heart hurts.

You'd think, after all this time, I'd be used to sadness. But I hate it so. No matter how often I feel it, it never gets easier.

So I'll do what I always do: run fast and far. And maybe one day I'll learn to move fast enough to leave my sorrows behind.

At least that's what I'll tell myself tonight.

Marooned On The Couch

This is not good.

Unexpectedly, I have today off. There is an event I want to attend later this evening. It would also be very, very smart to do any of the following: walk over to small shopping center and search for a few items, go to grocery store, shine shoes, trim nails, sort and file, and probably lots of other things I don't even remember right now.

Upcoming TMI warning.

The thing is, I'm hella crampy and bloated. But my period still hasn't started. It's just lingering, painful and foreboding, on the edge of existing. And I'm downing NSAIDS like I own stock in them. Did I mention I'm uncomfortable to the point of pain? (in addition to actual pain).

And there's nobody in the house so I'm sitting on the couch with a heating pad. And even though I really should go to that get together later tonight, it would be good for me, I'm just not feeling like doing anyfuckingthing right now.

*sigh*

i'm my own worst enemey

dear uterus: YUNO act right?

Ending With A Hint Of Relief

And so this long day draws to a close, with the pain tamped down to a manageable level sometime after midnight.

It's funny because chronic pain can really wear you out, but sometimes you are so relieved to feel better that you can't pass out. It's like your body is all "Oh boy, we don't feel like total shite right now! Paaaaarty!"

Or something. Not sure what a spleen says to a large intestine. Shout out to Handy J and Bef, who both helped me out today. Special shout out to HJ, who continues to grow as a person, much to the benefit of himself and those around him.

KIDS: DON'T TAKE DRUG TRANSUBSTANTION INTO YOUR OWN HANDS.

Warning: this shit is graphic. This is a Russian junkie who decided to shoot up some pills. That's right, he liquified some pills and injected. This is bad for many reasons, not the least of which is the caustic effect acetaminophen and NSAIDs have on blood vessels.

So he ended up at the hosptial with some gangrene. This video is not safe for life, liberty, or the pursuit of a sound sleep. There is some removal here. It's not particularly bloody, it's just, well. . .

You can see bone. Shin bone. It's like a halloween costume.

For some freaky shit click here. I don't advise clicking there. This is what happens when you decide that since you take drugs, you know chemistry/biology/anything.

Here's to tomorrow and better days.

That Really Hurt My Feelings

Chitauri energy blast wound corresponds to my pain, somewhat.

But I'll get over it.

I guess, despite my best attempts, I ask for too much.

Maybe that's at the core of whatever is wrong with me: I want too much and therefore will always be disappointed?

Or maybe not.

And the days went by
Like paper in the wind
Everything changed
Then changed again

I wonder if anybody could hear the Wildflowers album and not like it. Is that possible? I know some people say they don't care for Tom Petty, but isn't Wildflowers just a trump record? I can't really be objective, I guess, since I love Tom Petty to itty bitty pieces.

I'm in an immense amount of pain right now and we are hitting one of those transcendent moments--this kinda pain can make you just as goofy as any med. It probably says something profoundly disturbing about my psyche that these are times I feel compelled to record and communicate. When I am probably so least able. But I'm willing to cut myself the slack of acknowledging desperatizing circusmstances. I just made that word up. I don't care.

Wow, I've totally lost my train of thought with this. Because Blogger just quit working for about 20 minutes.

WTF? Even the Interwebz is against me!! Shock!! Horror!! AaaaIiiiiEeeeeeeeeeeee!!!

It's a couple of degrees below Melting today, so there's that. We are grateful. Praise jebus.

Here's something awesome I saw today:

I can't even win at Angry Birds. How dafuc does this happen? I must be the leftover DNA. It's probably good I'm not reproducing.

WTF SoCal: Atomic Mosquitoes?

So, the last three nights of house sitting, I have been plagues by super itchy bites.

I'm talking about shit so itchy it wakes me up.

Washed sheets, blah blah blah, fearing the worst--bedbugs. But I think it's actually mosquitoes.

Evil, vile, venomous mosquitoes with genetically altered saliva that WON'T STOP ITCHING. This is insane.

I actually didn't sleep at all last night and have only managed to clock a few hours tonight.

No bueno.

What the crap, SoCal? You are supposed to be better than that.

Does Anybody Else Have Bleeding Nasal Lining?

It's like the 80's on Wall Street up in here.

Florida: capable of producing allergens so potent, that you don't even have to be allergic to them to suffer. You just have to breathe. I imagine whatever pollen is in the air right now probably looks like a morning star or razorwire under the microscope.

I also have a theory that some new pollen/fungus/mold this season is contributing to the sudden hike in GERD incidence.

And Eff You Very Much

Well, I just got off the phone with the clinic that Rx'ed me some meds for chronic pain. You know, the ones that worked, but 3 out of 5 patches were so defective I couldn't use them.

Fun!

I've been calling (and visiting) this clinic for four weeks. Four weeks of phone calls, messages, answering questions, answering the same questions, and repeating personal details of my life story to whoever I happened to get on the phone.

I know it's been four weeks because last time I called it was because I was in intense pain because of my period. That's right, I originally called to get refills when my stuff malfunctioned for the severe pain I was in A Month Ago.

And now that feeling is coming back, as it always does and probably always will.

And today--this phone call--somebody FINALLY told me, "Oh, we can't refill those prescriptions."

Dude. Seriously? And this was info that couldn't be mentioned BEFORE I SPENT AN ENTIRE MONTH PLAYING PHONE AND OFFICE TAG WITH YOU MOTHERFUCKERS????????

It's really easy. A patient asks a yes/no question, you provide one of the two answers. No. That's all you had to say. No.

I just....what the...I can't even deal with this shit. What?

Well, at least I have one patch left, so I have 3 days of mitigated pain. This month.

Goddamn I'm tired.

125, 128, 138, 106, 142

I can live with that.

That doesn't mean I won't be bitching tomorrow about how sore I am. I don't know how everybody else bowls, but it's a full body effort for me.

My left hip is suspiciously quite right now. That does not bode well.

I thought I'd tap out at 4 (which is still too many), but I preservered and hit my best in the 5th game.

I was hovering around the zone for most of the games after #1, so it was very hard to make myself stop.

Bowling: cures what ails ya. Or at least makes ya so sore you forget the other crap.

Oweeee.....Bay County: Crud Capital of the World

There is something going around and it's really weird. I have a kicking case of sinusitis. I went to the doc yesterday. There are two things I don't mess around about: bladder infections and sinusitis. Got my happy little ass to a clinic toot suite.

Got the standard steroidal anti inflammatory spray, but man---this shit is rough. I feel like I've broken my nose. The pressures, I has it.

What's weird is that there are other symptoms, but I don't think I'm sick. That is, I don't feel contagious, like I've got a virus or an infections. But I do feel like refried shit.

In the continuing saga of Homeless Hawkeye I need to find a place to stay tonight. Because of a bump up in somebody's traveling plans. I'm not nearly as down about it as last time. I would just like to get to spend three consecutive days in a house without having to move.

Which I will get! A house to myself for a couple of weeks. Hallelujah! Praise Jebus!

Somebody just showed me this. It is foul. I had to look up Alligator Fuckhouse. Don't watch if you find things like "Dirty Sanchez" disturbing. I don't really have to mention that I laughed a lot, do I?

PSA: Despite my many ailments, I am not often "sick" in the traditional sense. So beware kids, if I've got it then it has the possibility of being Captain Tripps level destruction. Take your vitamins.

Chestnut Brown Canary, Ruby Throated Sparrow

It's weird what you wake up with in your head.

I think this is the part where I'm supposed to talk about how some people really don't seem to understand what's going on in my life. Because if they did, surely they wouldn't treat me the way they have.

But I don't want to spend another post whining about my life. It's hard to express, but I am super stressed out--I'm very much on the edge. I guess either it's hard to tell that, or people just don't believe it. It's pretty rough to get lectured when you thought everything was okay, you were planning responsibly (or so you thought), and you were really focused on having a good time with your friends.

In other words, I know I'm a fuck up. I really don't need anybody reminding me of this. I live it every day.

I have to give a shout-out to Handy J, who gave me some awesome, sage-like, and deceptively sweet advice.


another night slips away
in other words i should say
there are no words he should say
there are no words

Didn't See That One Coming

Today I was intent on spacing out and watching lots of BBC since I would have the house to myself for awhile.

But two intense phone calls later, and I'm on a course of internet research and logistic coordination for my peeps on the other side of the country.

My aunt, ex wife of my uncle, has always stayed close to the family. It was my parents' house she came to when she was sick with cancer. It was my mom she called to keep in touch. She died unexpectedly. Probably badly.

I always think of her as  the strawberry blonde I first met. I thought she was so beautiful and glamorous. She knew how to do hair and makeup and she always looked good.

She also had a kinda goofy, warped sense of humour that would catch you off guard. Her life was tough, really tough. And she was brave and bold in situations where other people just give up.

I don't know what to say. I'm not sure what I feel. This is just some fucked up shit right here.

She appeared, in my own weird way, in a poem i wrote a long time ago.

July 12, 2005

what is there left, at the end of a day
but to look to the right, and deign to say
"there but for the grace of something i don't know
swiftly, surely, i must go."

perhaps not grace, but twenty years hence
you find yourself, not twenty but p'haps
merely twelve and a pence
would shuttle you to this dire mishap

all doomed failure, all reckoned to ruin
sealed with a kiss, affection's misdoing
till finally the damn breaks and no dike will save
a faithless pauper from a spiritless grave

for karma's a wheel, and we're all underfoot
but reflection might leave one to believe
that the terrible entropy was somehow mistook
for some sad fate's soft reprieve

Ode To A Friend

Nacho is gone now. So quickly the verdict turns from hope to death. And so quickly they provide that death.

Nacho deserved a far better life than the one he got. But he never seemed anything less than happy with what he had.

I am glad he was coddled and cared for in his final few days. I wish I could have held him one last time. I wish I could have been there for him in that terrible, cold, clinical room where they turn things from warm and sentient to cold and insensate. Maybe I could have helped him be a little less scared.

Though Nach was never scared of much. I think he was mostly just tired. And though people always say, "Oh, be so glad you didn't see him at the end. He looked so bad, better to remember the good times."

That doesn't really work for me. I always loved my big orange stinky baby no matter the circumstance.

I'm sorry, Nacho. You deserved better.

On the inescapability of death, the demise of hope, and all our wasted time.
 
Funeral Blues--W.H. Auden
 
Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone.
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.
Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling in the sky the message He is Dead,
Put crêpe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.
He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last forever, I was wrong.
The stars are not wanted now; put out every one,
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun.
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood;
For nothing now can ever come to any good.

People Say: "What Are You Doing?"

And i say "helping my friends."


And sometimes that help is looking up Q.I. from the BBC on YouTube.

We never change do we?
We never learn do we?

And then other things happen. 

Tink was very good to me today. Does that sound like junkie talk? I don't know anymore.

All I know is Pain is Pain. A cunning tracker, it (out of time) traced me through a hundred neuron firings, and knew it was me. (I was the one grimacing for no reason at the bar. There was a reason: pain.)

I probably shouldn't post this. But my ovaries hurt. And my uterus. And the myriad organs that don't like extra blood and extra pressure.

I've mouthed off too much. I retire this to Tink to find fit for consumption.

Or maybe I just approved it in her name and posted it(<---- so true).

Were I Rich. . .

I would buy a plane ticket and fly out to watch Star Trek: Into Darkness with them on opening day. We had so much fun at the last one. It seems wrong to see the movie without them.

I would organize a last minute reception and pull out all the stops for tink and Panda's wedding. Everyone would get everything they wanted and nobody would have to worry.

Not that money solves everything. But I'd like to be faced with some scenarios in my life wherein I had so much money that at least that wouldn't be the problem. One can dream.

And no matter what, weddings are stressful. Or perhaps I should say the planning is stressful. As with any other project, something(s) inevitably goes awry, someone(s) invariably fail to provide a promised favor, and, of course, family. (In the case of office project management, replace family with coworkers/staff). Even if you love them, they are going to pose some issue, at some point.

Flames. Flames on the side of my face. Burning.

Staying up here NorCal for a while, trying to help on aforementioned wedding. I don't feel like I do much, but I have driven around and been moral support on some shopping trips. The mall in San Jose/Santa Clara is whack, man. I think a casino architect designed it, because once you get in you can't find your way back out.

Being that it's me, Tink, and Panda, there is a certain amount of inherent silliness in a large percentage of our activities. Recent subjects that have reduced the group to tears (with no regard for any kind of sense):

• cats with rockets in their asses (cat ass rockets)
• lou diamond phillips' unfortunate marriage woes and resume
• Good Day, Mr. Kubrick. Because: what? why?
• Haaaaaandbaaaaag? It's still funny.
• Monty Python in general, but here's an excerpt:

Unfortunately, due to last minute housing accommodations, I can no longer have a +1. Apologies to my disappointed potential dates.

Some are taking it better than others. In their own way.

I guess somebody else has to get married so I can make it up to these poor boys.

On the upside, I will be reunited with my wife, JDog. She's coming out for the wedding next week. Since our vows under the Wooster's wedding arch, I guess we are sort of automatically each others +1. It's not your traditional marriage. But there is photographic proof.

Which you will never see.

Did I mention I tried a Zumba class the other day? How did it go? They haven't made a gif with that much Pain, Fail, Stroke, and Wheeze to properly express the experience. I almost passed out. I was near to hurling once or twice.

 The instructor was all like........

 

So I gave it a shot. . . 

 

The spirit was semi-willing, but the flesh was oh so weak. . .

I have never in my life been so close to walking out of a workout. I think it scarred me for life.

That's enough for now. It has taken me hours to write this blahg post. So much effort for me, so little return for you. It's like I'm Corporate America or the Healthcare Industry.

Physical And Mental Feelings: A Post About "Healthcare" Treatment

So, regular visit to doctor to stick needles in stomach, talk about medicine doses, blah blah theusualcakes.

I bring up, for the second time, that I am still having severe pain. I ask "Will this ever go away?"

He says, "Well, when you reach menopause."

From there he went on to reiterate that I didn't need any of my old pain meds because they just "trick my brain." I just need to quintuple my dose of the pills that make me moronic and take megadoses of the $300/bottle ibuprofen. Because that's been sooooo very helpful so far.

I got home, Handy J asked me how my appt went. It wasn't until then that I realized what that asshole said.

He says, "Well, when you reach menopause."

Suddenly, I feel:

Stabbity

Bitch slappity

Chair smashity

And it's really sad. Because that just makes me a Mad Panda.

It would seem I have no recourse. The pills that work are the ones he doesn't want me on (why?) and I don't have the money to bounce around looking for further answers. I don't think he's inept, I just think he's wrong.

Now excuse me while I go ingest tons of meds that make me stupider and hurt my liver but just don't quite seem to ease the pain.

Sleep well while you can, white men. Your cracker-ass days are numbered.

Schlepping Out Into the Daylight, Once More

After all the phone calls, personal emails, and what not that poured in over my recent difficulties with a chemically malfunctioning brain, some people might be moved to look at the world in a different way.

Why, if I had a dime for every concerned call, engaging voicemail, encouraging email, or apprehensive text, I'd have about .03 cents.

What I did get, however, was my head out of the Morass of Doom (AKA my Ass) and ask and receive some help from my pal Handy J--chauffeur service around town for a coupla days. Allowed a few key things to happen, including bill paying and banking, yadda yadda yadda. And we got to play with guns. That's always fun.

On a health note, I'm sort of really over these headaches and these neckaches, which seem to crop up independently, but work amazingly well to augment each other. Oh, what Palestine and Isreal could learn from my body: separate systems working together to achieve the common goal of rendering me cross eyed with pain. It's a beautiful thing. 

Drug my own ass out of the house (post script: driving is feasible at this point, but let's keep it to low stress situations that don't require high levels of awareness/fast reflexes) and saw The Avengers with my pal RJ. We then managed to geek out about various things for approx 6 hours afterwards. That's a pretty impressive timespan, even by my records. I have the outrageous parking receipt to prove it, too.

And the hype for Avengers is well deserved. It's fanboy fun, a good movie, and a rather amazing writing feat on the part of Whedon, b/c those were some disparate storylines to interweave. And in the end the story, while serviceable, wasn't nearly as interesting as the people in the story. I could watch a whole nother hour of Stark, Banner, Widow, and Cap just shooting the shit.

Also, Hulk = LULZ. And I think that Bruce Banner's secret is a lot of people's secret. It never stops. It never goes away. It's just dialed down. Maybe I'm just feeling empathetic these days. It aint' easy being green. And green is what I be.

Also also: pretty. Pretty shiny things. Pretty boom ka pow. Pretty action sequences that mostly make sense. And pretty, pretty, pretty men and women running around naked, half naked, and nekkid. And in nerd glasses. And in rumpled suits. And in Black Sabbath tight t-shirts. Geez, even Thor's ridik armour was revamped to maximize his shoulder to hip ratio. And god bless them for it.

As always, RDJ wins the prize for maintaining the fiercest ass on any white boy to date. And he works it honey. Somebody needs to put this boy in a Western, he's got the hip movements down.

Special note to Chris Evans:

Dear Chris,
    You seem like a nice, serious young man. I'm glad you went to therapy to help deal with the fame monster. I respect your dedication to your roles, and hope you continue to pursue both your popcorn fare and what you seem to consider more personally rewarding roles.
     With all that in mind, thank you for every single shot of you from behind in this move. Standing, running, whatever. Seriously, just, thank you. That is a masculine silhouette that should be used as a template for future reference. Or just stored in my bunk.  And I don't even like big, muscley blond tall dudes. You are just that impressive.
      Sincerely,
      My Ovaries

Okay, well off to fend off zappity synapses in the search to deposit an actual paycheck (!) and search for one of the most elusive creatures in the world: the right pair of shoes. But this is rather serious. My go to pair of Earth sandals (which actually correct your posture and stretch your hammies and just Never Hurt Your Feet) have shuffled off their mortal coil. Not Cool. And finding some is proving to be a challenge. Babby is no in mood for challenge. Doom requires complete satisfaction and utter submission!*

*Full disclosure: Doom's been waiting on this a long time. Doom has contacted Doom's lawyers, but those wankers never do anything right. Doom begins to suspect Utter Bliss may be longer in coming than previous assurances made out.

Creeping Nostalgia and The Sunburn Diaries

Flash Updates: downloads from the brain, to allow me to move on. The brain, it is so teensy, I must dump things from it to maintain it's semi-functionality.

******************************************************
Sunburn Journal, Day Four

The scathing pain has stopped and I can wear clothing again. Though I'm still exothermic, my back and shoulders are beginning to numb. I'm glad, even though I know it's really bad news--it's the beginning of the inevitable decomposition and shedding of that part of my body. Is there a medical term for a reverse hunchback?

On the plus side, my face burn has subsided, and I now just look like a salty sailor.

*****************************************************
Life events have conspired, and Eddie Vedder is all around me these days. Oh PUH JAM, how I still love thee!

And listening to PJ in the town I had the best two years of high school, well, what a recipe for nostalgia. Tink correctly and hilariously tagged Pearl Jam as Sad Bastard music. It's also Mad Bastard music. And I think it's disturbing that I still relate to it so profoundly at this point in time. Should I have grown past this, emotionally and mentally?

But then again, maybe I don't want to. I stopped buying their albums after No Code. My pal Neese says the new LP is worth a listen. . .

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Speaking of reeling in the years, last nights send off of JDog turned into a reunion of sorts. And the wine flowed. A bit too much flowed down me gullet, and bit too much b.s. flowed out me mouth. But the past was all around me, I was ready to laugh away my moody turns, eager to be entertained, and unconcerned about other's motives.  I know some funny, witty folks. And some cute boys.

In a moment of EPIC WIN FOR LIFE my buddy Neese proved again that One Joke Rules Them All. He brought the Universe full circle by saying "Don't feel like a bastard to me," to me in conversation. I kissed him and made him call Bef right then and there. It was freaking beautiful. I can't even come up with a proper analogy right now.

New superpower discovered: ability to make grown men jump and leave table/room/house. Probably not a flattering comment on my personality.

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Partial download complete. Back to salt mines.