No wonder our nation is obese

You know, it really saddens me (and in fact, enrages as well) to read news headlines, every single day, along the lines of "Weight Lifting Benefits Breast Cancer Patients," and "Health Buzz: Diet and Excercise Protect Brain and Other Health News." Those are just two examples taken straight from Google News today. If I go digging onto individual news outlets, I get more wonderful gems. Take, for instance, this one from CNN: "Could Fat Babies Mean Fat Toddlers?"

Seriously, people? Is our nation really that mentally challenged that we still can't figure out what keeps us at the top of the list of fattest countries in the world? Here, let me save everybody a whole lot of time and sum it all up in one quick sentence: Healthy diet, combined with regular exercise, will keep you healthy.

DONE.

If you want to lose weight, start jogging. If you want to gain muscle, lift weights. If those don't sound attractive to you, take up another hobby involving physical activity; dance, hiking, rock climbing, soccer, swimming, ANYTHING. It's not that difficult of a formula here, people. We're not searching for the elusive Higgs Boson. We're not trying to find the last digit of Pi. It's a simple matter of common sense and paying attention to your own body.

There is, of course, one other important message buried in this rant; most especially in that last paragraph. That message, for those of you who didn't notice, is: If you're not happy with the way you are, CHANGE. Don't say "I wish I was healthier;" do something about it!

If you find this posting offensive, first off, thanks for reading far enough to even become offended. That shows that you found some relevancy here. Second, try to think about why exactly it offends you. Hit too close to home? Think hard. Then do something about it.

Highs and lows

Life definitely has these, all the damn time. Today was going great. Hanging out with my buddy Don and his kids. We had lunch, I went and picked a new SWEET tv, we had just gotten that dropped off and were heading to a movie, when BAM! A lady pulled right out in front of me in an intersection. What is it with people and pulling in front of me? Seriously. It's like I've got a big flashing sign over my head saying "PLEASE PULL IN FRONT OF ME!" So now the front end of my car is all smashed up. The passenger side headlight is hanging down, the entire bumper is hanging down, as is the front grill. It's quite lovely. Luckily, nobody was hurt... and the airbag didn't deploy. Still though, it sucks ass. I can't even really drive at night now, because one of my headlights is popped out. Hell I don't even really want to drive much at all if I don't have to. I'm worried parts might start falling off.

sigh.

Oh well, at least I can sit here and watch my pretty new TV. I may be moving in a week, but I just couldn't help myself. There's no way something like that is going to stay in the box around me. :)

...and my list of issues grows even longer.

Not that my new issue is a particularly bad one... or even a new one for me. I just have a name for it now. This particular one is called, apparently, Islomania. Islomania, according to this Wikipedia entry, is an obsession with islands characterized by an irresistible attraction towards them. This would explain my recent longing to visit pretty much any island I can find. It would also explain why I have, at different points in my life, been determined to move to each of the following: Hawaii, The Philippines, Mauritius, Reunion, Isle of Man, Guam, Bermuda, along with a few others. I know that there were some Micronesian islands as well.

I really like the quote from the original identification of the condition:

We islomanes, says Gideon, are the direct descendants of the Atlanteans, and it is toward the lost Atlantis that our subconscious is drawn.

That sounds like a good explanation to me... I'll accept that idea. :)

Atlantis, here I come!

Life = Insanity

Yes, it has been several months since I've posted on here again. Bad Tarky, bad!

Life has been, if possible, more insane in these few months. This week, however, seems to be somewhat of a culmination of all of this craziness. Just today I've dealt with car insurance, 2 different people about my health insurance, Big Brothers Big Sisters, City of Chandler, the HOA for the house I'm renting, a mortgage consultant and helping an employee with a broken down car. The good news is, my car is getting fixed, my health insurance is finally getting taken care of so that hopefully everything will get paid off, I'm getting rid of all the old clothes which have been bagged up in my garage the past few months, I'm getting rid of all the large trash that's been cluttering up my back yard, the front yard for this house will stop sucking, I may very soon be a home owner and I may get to help replace a clutch... very good experience there!

The big news there, of course, is the house. This bit of good news, however, comes covered with acid. Apparently not all of my friends are happy with me because of this. To be more specific, I have fully lost one of my best friends, and perhaps gained an enemy solely due to the fact that I am buying a house. Now, okay, we had talked about me moving into her place because I have to be out of my current house by April 20 and I didn't have another place to go. So it worked out great for me. Then recently I had some other friends basically drop a house in my lap and say "Here, buy this. Please. We want you to buy this and we will help in any way we can." Great! What an opportunity! This is of course something which I did convey to the friend I was going to be moving in with and we talked about it very briefly but I had made no final decisions at the time. I would note, however, that not once during these conversations did she say "No, you can't do that, I need you to move into my place like we talked about before." To me that basically solidified the fact that offering me a place was basically just a friendly gesture... which I appreciate greatly. As I found out today, after conveying the good news of the house, it was apparently not. What I am hearing now is that she needs me to move in so that she can cover the bills. Great for me to know that NOW.

This puts me in quite a dilemma. Do I drop out of the home buying process now, so that I can help a friend? Do I continue buying the house and just let this friendship drop? I don't want to lose a friend, for sure. She has been a wonderful friend and helped me through a lot. Then again, this whole situation is, for lack of a better term, pretty fucked up. From our brief conversation today I picked up on a few things. The first one was, of course, that she can be quite self centered sometimes. It's very rare that I do something for myself as opposed to doing everything I can for everybody else. This is something that people have been getting on my case about for a long time now, including the very friend now angry at me for doing this. The second piece is, seeing how she knew about the house opportunity and that I was interested in buying it, that means that she ASSUMED I was going to fail in some form or another. In her mind, there was never any possibility that it would actually happen. What kind of friend is going to assume that you will fail in your endeavors?

Either way, I'm out of a backup place to live now, in case the mortgage falls through for whatever reason. Today was just initial application and docs. There are still a million things that could go wrong. Hell, I could even decide to back out still at this point.... I think. Not that I would want to, this is a pretty exciting prospect for me. This is like a defining point in my life, buying my first house... and most importantly doing it on my own.

I think my new motto is going to be: Fuck it all, I need a drink.

Floating

I feel a bit like I'm floating right now. Not the happy Cloud 9 floating that everybody talks about... this is more like an "in limbo" floating. It's a bit odd.

Right this moment, I should not, by any means, be awake. I should not have the least bit of consciousness. From when I woke up Saturday morning until now, I've had a total of right around 9 hours of sleep... all of it restless, waking constantly, tossing and turning. Basically useless sleep. Yesterday, I was running on mostly adrenaline. Today, I woke myself with coffee which would easily be mistaken for tar. I'm sure that kept me going most of the day. The rest of the day, I've had to keep myself moving. Do a few pull-ups... pace around the house... move some things around... clean, go shopping, whatever. I just spent most of the past 3 hours in the kitchen, cooking. I made a pizza from scratch, each piece of it, from the dough itself, to the hamburger and other toppings. Even the pizza sauce was cooked during all of this. Not only that, I made enough dough for a second pizza, which is now in the freezer... and I took the leftover hamburger that I cooked up and turned it into a mini stir fry of sorts (which would work wonderfully for some fajitas, I must say.) Regardless, my point is, I kept myself running around the kitchen all that time in order to just keep myself going. As soon as I sat down to enjoy the fruits of my labor, I could feel the energy draining from my body. The only problem is, now that I want to go to sleep, I find myself unable to again.

It's an odd thing, being unable to sleep, when you feel exhausted enough to sleep for two days straight. I've never had a problem with insomnia before, but I certainly feel sorry now for people who suffer this chronically. I don't know what it is, really, that's keeping me awake. It could very well be stress. Stress over my cancer... over whether I get radiation in the morning or not. Stress over work... whether I will be able to live up to my word and meet the deadlines that have been set, despite the fact that I can hardly keep myself focused on one thing right now. Writing seems easier to focus on, but this is just a pouring out of my thoughts. I'm not having to think through every possible scenario that this writing could go through, like I have to when I'm writing code.

I think this whole radiation thing may really be getting to me. I'm chomping at the bit for this right now. I've been so freaked out over my diet, I've cut my iodine intake to practically nothing. I take no risks with what I eat. Aside from meals I have cooked myself, the only ones I have had were at my favorite bar, Boulders on Broadway, where they actually have my diet restrictions pinned up in back so that they can figure out things to make for me. I love those people, I really do. How many places would do something like that for just one patron? I can't personally think of any others. They even custom tailored a beer dinner for me. This was an event with around 40 people, eating dishes custom crafted to go with the particular beers that were being presented. Obviously, some of these things, I was unable to eat. Going above and beyond, they created a whole different menu for me to replace these things. This was something I never expected. In fact, I told them I wouldn't be able to attend because of my diet. They would have none of that talk. Obviously.

Possibly the biggest reason I'm still anxious about the radiation right now is that I still don't know if I'm going to be receiving it... and I'm scheduled for 11:00 tomorrow morning. This morning, I went in and got my blood drawn again for my final test. It was written specifically with orders to get the results immediately, by this afternoon. Of course, as has been the case lately, Murphy was lurking in the shadows. The machine which would analyze my blood for TSH levels was not working this morning. This means that they had to send my blood over to Sonora Quest Labs to get the results. Sonora Quest, however, was unable to get the results by this afternoon; they aren't ruled by my doctor's office... they have other orders to fill. Because of all this, my results were delayed until 8:00am tomorrow morning. Three hours before I'm supposed to get my radiation dose. The absolute drop dead cut-off point for my results is 9:00am in order for me to receive the dose at 11:00am.

Several people have suggested sleeping pills already, but honestly, I refuse. Maybe it's that I don't trust the pills. Or maybe it's that I don't trust myself with them. I don't really know... I don't think it really matters. Whatever the case, I won't be using them. I fully intend to simply let myself drift off to sleep in a natural fashion. How I'm going to accomplish that, I'm still not certain.

But I'm certainly going to try.

The real effects of cancer

Lance Armstrong said it right in his book, It's Not About The Bike: My Journey Back to Life.

When you have lived for an entire year terrified of dying, you feel like you deserve to spend the rest of your days on a permanent vacation. You can't, of course; you have to return to your family, your peers, and your profession.

Now granted, I haven't gone through anywhere near the ordeal that Mr. Armstrong did, and I am eternally grateful for that, but the same thing still applies. You see, when I was first in Dr. Glenn Rothman's office and he told me that I had cancer, I had no reaction. None at all. I just said, "Okay. What do I do now?" as though it were an everyday thing. I said it the same way I would place an order for food. No emotion, just a routine piece of conversation. This was my personal form of shock. Any and all emotions I had in reaction to what I had just found out went straight to the back of my mind, locked away in a little box, marked "Do not open."

Eventually, however, as this whole ordeal unfolded, that box did come open and I did start to react. I think one of the biggest triggers was when I started reading Mr. Armstrong's book. In the beginning of his book, he recounts his initial trip to the doctor when he first found that he had cancer. Not only did he have testicular cancer, it had metastasized into his lungs. Reading this piece, seeing another person's situation, his reactions, his emotions, was just too much for me to handle. That box opened wide and I finally reacted. I cried. This is cancer. This is serious.

The quote I cited earlier is so true it hurts. After you have cancer, no matter what form, no matter how curable, everything else seems inconsequential. It doesn't matter how successful you are in life, cancer can take all of that away in one fell swoop. So what's the point? These are, in fact, thoughts that I am still fighting with. It's made especially difficult by the fact that I am currently without any thyroid hormones; I was taken off of my pills in preparation for my radioiodine treatment. This has put my entire chemical balance out of wack. Earlier this morning, I was freezing cold... now I'm sweating. I had to fight myself for a half hour to even open my eyes this morning, when normally I jump out of bed as soon as the alarm goes off. Another unfortunate side effect has been my mood changes. I have begun to experience mood swings so bad that I would be labeled as bipolar. All of this is still just the tip of the iceberg though. Needless to say, this has been quite a trying time.

One thing that I have learned from this whole ordeal, however, is more patience... if that's even possible. Since November 23rd, I have been on a special "low iodine" diet. Essentially, I have to cook all of my own food. I can't trust almost any processed, packaged food to be free of iodine. As another nice side effect, this has gotten me into the kitchen much more, and I have been becoming much more handy at cooking. In addition to the diet, I have also been, as I mentioned, off of my medication since November 29th. This is all in preparation for my radioiodine treatment which will be, I am hoping, on December 11th. This is supposing that all of my blood tests come back with the desired results.

The way this whole thing works is, on December 11th, at 11:00am, I will go in to my doctor's office and he will give me a pill. I'm somewhat fuzzy on the exact details at this point, but I'm fairly certain that I will wash down this pill and head home. Now here is a bit of frightening information. For 72 hours after I take this pill, I can not be around infants or pregnant women, as I could cause irreversible damage to the underdeveloped thyroids. It is also recommended that I keep at least a one to two meter distance from other people, just to be safe. Once I have received this pill, 7-10 days later, I will go see the doctor again for a body scan to make sure that the radioiodine was sucked up and is doing the job that it's supposed to be doing. At this point, I will finally be able to go back on a normal diet (first thing I'm eating after is sushi!) and will start taking my medicine again. This will be a glorious day, I assure you. Just in time for Christmas vacation as well! Of course, this is all assuming that the TSH levels in my blood are at an appropriate level, indicating that my body is severely starved of iodine.

So now, this whole thing has been going on since August, when I first went to see Dr. Smith. The main part of the treatment will be finished near the end of December... but it won't really be over. I'm going to be taking pills for the rest of my life, to replace the hormones that my thyroid would be producing. I am also going to have to go in for yearly body scans... meaning that I will be dealing with this diet and no medicine again, once a year. If I ever move, I will have to get copies of all of my medical records (which I have been keeping a personal copy of now anyhow) and find a new endocrinologist immediately near my new home. Then again, Dr. Duick is, in himself, a reason not to move. From everything I have heard and experienced so far, he is one of the best. Hell, when I scheduled my first post-op appointment with him, I wasn't able to get in to see him for over a month! That says something about his demand, for sure. What are the chances that I can find somebody as good in a new location?

I said before that all of this has taught me more patience, and it had. That's not the only thing it has taught me though. Through all of this I have gained more humility, awareness, compassion... and certainly knowledge. You don't go through something like cancer without learning about exactly what is happening to you. I ask the doctors and nurses about everything; what they're doing and why, what they are looking for when they draw my blood, what the results are and what ranges they are looking for on everything. Cancer is certainly not something I would ever wish on another living being... but it is most definitely a growing experience which most people would benefit greatly from. A bit of an odd sentiment, I realize, but very true. Here's an even stranger way of putting it: I think that society as a whole would benefit, and be much better for it, if everybody had to go through the experience of dealing with cancer in some way. Then again, we may just end up with a society full of lazy people, never wanting to work again...

Amen!

That is all.

Small annoyances

Despite everything that is going on right now, I still somehow manage to find time to be annoyed by the smaller ... annoying things. When I got in to work this morning, my roommate sends me a message, asking me what happened to my car, because he had noticed a large dent. "Well that's odd," I'm thinking, "I hadn't noticed one." So I go out to check and sure enough, most of my right rear quarter panel is dented in. It must have been some idiot driver who bumped into it when they were pulling into/out of the bar last night. Why me?

Oh well, I need to learn how to pull out dents anyhow... a larger one will be easier to practice on.... I think.

Why I Hate Doctors.

Or, "Surprise! You've got cancer."

Yes, that's the news I heard today when I went to a second doctor. Luckily, it's not a serious cancer. The name is some ridiculously long medical mumbo-jumo for thyroid cancer. Am I scared? Not really. Every person I know in the medical field assures me that this is the "best" cancer you can have. It's basically 100% curable. I just have to have my thyroid removed, take a radioactive iodine pill, and then take thyroid supplements for the rest of my life. Simple enough.

For my last surgery, yes, I was scared. Everything was unknown. I had never had surgery before. I had never been put under before. I wasn't even sure I trusted the doctor. I was scared. Luckily, his colleague was there to assist with the surgery, and was greeted warmly when we went into the OR. This made me go under with a nice warm fuzzy feeling, not entirely brought on by the medications they were pumping through my system.

This time. I know what's going to happen. I already have the experience of being put under, and I already trust this doctor who will be performing the surgery. Let me explain this whole big trust thing going on here a little more. I'll start from the beginning. First off, right when I meet the first doctor, Dr. Douglas Smith, he's got a smile that belongs on a used car salesman. A bit creepy. But he seems to know his shit. He checks the lump, looks down my throat with a scope, says it's most likely just a cyst but we're going to get a CT to check it out and then proceed with surgery to get it removed. We are also going to try, as another possible route, some antibiotics... according to Dr. Smith, cysts will sometimes react to antibiotics because they can be just large infections. Sounds good to me.

So, head from the doctor's office, off to the pharmacy to pick up that antibiotic. May as well get it taken care of right away. Get to the pharmacy, give the script to the pharmacist.... he pulls up my medical records... looks at the script... looks back at my medical records... looks at me... and asks, "What doctor gave you this prescription?"

A bit confused, I tell him, "Dr. Douglas Smith."

After which he asks me for Dr. Smith's phone number. Still confused, I give him the phone number for the doctor and inquire as to why he might need it. "Your records state that you are allergic to amoxicillin." I confirm with a nod. "What kind of reaction do you get when you take it?"

Getting even more confused, since I know the doctor didn't prescribe me amoxicillin, I simply tell him "Hives."

"That's one step in allergic reaction before anaphylactic shock. This prescription is for a derivative of amoxicillin and could possibly kill you if you have the same reaction to it."

This was quite shocking. Obviously. A major screwup which could have been potentially very disastrous. At this point, I should have gotten a clue.

I never claimed to be very bright.

So we got my prescription fixed and, being that it was only a far outside chance that it would have any effect anyhow, it did nothing. A week later, I got a phone call telling me that a surgery date had been set and I needed to come in and finalize some paperwork. "Well," I figure, "he specializes in surgery... not medicine." Stupid rationalization, I know. I managed to convince myself with it though, because I wanted this over with. Plus I was scared out of my wits... that may have had something to do with it. I need to get somebody to go along with me for these types of things and smack me with a billy club when I do something stupid. But I digress...

On the morning of Wednesday, August 29, 2007, I go in for surgery. Dr. Smith comes in with his far-too-toothy smile to greet me before surgery. I'm bodily shaking... only in part because of my reaction to needles... what with a large IV needle sticking out of my arm now and all. However, when we get into the OR, I hear a friendly "Ah, Dr. Bartell, it's good to see you!" (Dr. Thad Bartell is Dr. Smith's aforementioned associate.) Next thing I knew, I was waking up 2 hours later in the recovery room, receiving several doses of morphine and demerol. I was happy.

About a week later, Dr. Smith calls me up to tell me that I need to speak with a Dr. Glenn Rothman. He's rather vague about why. All he tells me is that there was "a growth" in the middle of the cyst that was removed, and it is likely "a common thyroid problem," which is "easily curable." Well, that doesn't sound so bad. I set up an appointment with the new doctor and go about my business, figuring it's something caused from hyperthyroidism. That's not so bad. I can deal with that.

Today, I went in for my appointment, and after talking for less than a minute, Dr. Rothman asks me, "Wait, what exactly did Dr. Smith tell you about why you were coming here?" So I tell him what Dr. Smith told me. The next words out of his mouth, I could never hear again from a doctor and be live perfectly happy. "I'm so sorry," he told me. He then proceeds to tell me what Dr. Smith should have. That this growth was in fact cancerous, although it is easily treatable. Amazingly I maintained my cool through this whole thing... I think. Next step, Dr. Rothman is ordering the results of my CT scan and scheduling a chest x-ray and ultrasound just to be absolutely certain that nothing is missed. He's thorough. I like that. He's candid, he's kind, to the point, sincere. This guy, I feel I can trust. I hope. At least I can be more analytical with this one. I've already looked into his credentials. They seem impressive enough. I don't know anybody who knows of him, but I'm going to keep asking around.

I just want this all over with.

Then, no more doctors. For a long, long time.

Franken-me!

So uh yea, for those who don't know, I had surgery on Wednesday morning. I just now took the gauze off, and this is what I was greeted by!

Holy monkey! When he told me 9 stitches, I was figuring on something smaller than this! Kinda cool though... just too bad it isn't Halloween, I wouldn't even need a costume! Anyhow, just thought I would share this with the world. :)

All I Really Need to Know I Learned in Kindergarten

One of my favorite short pieces of literature has always been one by Robert Fulghum, titled "All I Really Need to Know I Learned in Kindergarten." Sadly, it seems that most people have never read it. I know that my life, for one, would be much better if some of the people around me were to read it and actually learn from it. So for the benefit of all those near and far, I give you this wonderfully educational piece:

--

Most of what I really need to know about how to live, and what to do, and how to be, I learned in Kindergarten. Wisdom was not at the top of the graduate school mountain, but there in the sandbox at nursery school.

These are the things I learned: Share everything. Play fair. Don't hit people. Put things back where you found them. Clean up your own mess. Don't take things that aren't yours. Say you're sorry when you hurt somebody. Wash your hands before you eat. Flush. Warm cookies and cold milk are good for you. Live a balanced life. Learn some and think some and draw and paint and sing and dance and play and work some every day.

Take a nap every afternoon. When you go out into the world, watch for traffic, hold hands, and stick together. Be aware of wonder. Remember the little seed in the plastic cup. The roots go down and the plant goes up and nobody really knows how or why, but we are all like that.

Goldfish and hamsters and white mice and even the little seed in the plastic cup - they all die. So do we.

And then remember the book about Dick and Jane and the first word you learned, the biggest word of all: LOOK . Everything you need to know is in there somewhere. The Golden Rule and love and basic sanitation, ecology and politics and sane living.

Think of what a better world it would be if we all - the whole world - had cookies and milk about 3 o'clock every afternoon and then lay down with our blankets for a nap. Or if we had a basic policy in our nation and other nations to always put things back where we found them and clean up our own messes. And it is still true, no matter how old you are, when you go out into the world, it is best to hold hands and stick together.

--
http://robertfulghum.com/index.php/fulghumweb/booksentry/all_i_really_need_to_know_i_learned_in_kindergarten/

Self.

I've recently been reading another novel by my favorite author, Robert Heinlein. This one, titled "To Sail Beyond The Sunset," is rather interesting. It's the account of one Maureen Smith's life. At least, that's what it has been so far. Considering that I'm about 2/3 through the book, I think it may well continue along this line. Anyhow, it's quite interesting to me as I've already read several of his other books, and this is giving me quite a bit of background and insight into some of the past of his worlds, his timelines and his characters.

But none of that is really the point I'm getting at here. In reading this book, I found a very interesting quote. I had to read it over at least three times before I really got it. And it really made sense.

"Gratitude": An imaginary emotion that rewards an imaginary behavior, "altruism." Both imaginaries are false faces for selfishness, which is a real and honest emotion. Long ago Mr. Clemens demonstrated in his essay "What Is Man?" that every one of us acts at all times in his own interest. Once you understand this, it offers a way to negotiate with an antagonist in order to find means to cooperate with him for mutual benefit. But if you are convinced of your own "altruism" and you try to shame him out of his horrid selfishness, you will get nowhere.

Damn, he's right. I've never been terribly interested in reading Mr. Clemens' works in the past... but the more references I pick up from Robert Heinlein's works (and they are plentiful,) the more I'm intrigued. He sounds like as much of a cynical bastard as myself. Perhaps more... that's a scary thought. Either way, I think I may need to get ahold of some of his writings. Especially this particular essay, "What Is Man?"

Trypanophobia

Anybody who knows me knows that I've got this issue with needles. I can't stand the sight, or even thought, of needles. I just freak out. And it pisses me off every time that I do. I really want to get past this, because it's absolutely ridiculous and unfounded. It's not the pain that bothers me; the needles don't hurt. It's not the blood that bothers me; I've certainly seen worse. It's just something about the needle itself.

Well, I decided to do a bit of research on it finally... and I found that I'm far from alone. This article on Wikipedia was extremely informative. According to this, I'm even on the right path to getting past it. What I've been working on is a form of desensitization... although I didn't know the fancy word for it. On December 2, I got my ears pierced. I nearly passed out as soon as the first needle passed through. I wasn't freaking out or breathing abnormally. The piercing didn't hurt. My body just reacted instantly and went into its own state of shock. Pissed me right off. I had to lay down and recoup for a while to let my body calm down. Then came the second piercing. But lo and behold, I didn't react nearly as bad to this one! I remained sitting up... I shook a bit... I probably went a bit pale again... but I felt better. Obviously an improvement.

This was definitely not enough though. I'm still having quite a reaction, which is simply not acceptable. So on the evening of December 24, I decided to stretch my ears. Granted, I wasn't using a needle, but it was something at least similar. I was using something like this to stretch them:
Not too friendly looking... but not a needle. And not creating a new hole in my skin, so it shouldn't cause any problems... right? Wrong. I hooked these things into my ears, and almost instantly started to feel slightly light headed. I didn't react nearly as bad as I did to either of the piercings, but it was certainly not good. So I laid down for a while, drank some water... and got over it. Not an entirely pleasant experience, and a very odd one.

So I want to try this again. See if I still get the same results. These talons go up to a 6 gauge piercing, and I only stretched up to 8 so far. Out of curiosity, tonight, I pushed one of the talons into my right ear, just to see how easily it would take to the wider end of the talon. Surprisingly, it pushed about 2/3 - 3/4 of the way through before I started to feel a slight pinching. I didn't get light headed though.... which is a big win. I felt almost like I had gotten a small jolt of adrenaline, but that may have been just from excitement. This is the first time I haven't reacted adversely to things piercing my skin. Then again, I've also been removing and replacing my piercings daily now to clean them. Perhaps this is helping in some way. I certainly hope so. I guess I'll see how I do when I actually stretch them up to 6 gauge. Unfortunately, I have to wait a little bit... I need to let my ears heal up some, build up at least a little scar tissue, before I go torturing them more.

Next test: Tattoos.

Moral dilemmas

These are the most difficult decisions to face in your life, but also probably the most important. Perhaps the situation they relate to isn't all that important, but the choices you make set a precedent for future choices. If you make a choice now that hangs on your conscience, it will make it much easier to do the next time. If, however, you make a choice to keep your conscience clear, it can also make these choices easier. The difference here, I suppose, is how you wish to lead your life. It may not seem like it with the individual choices you make, but they do add up over time. The accumulation of these choices is what ends up being known as a person, you. Each individual choice helps to mold that person.

I'm facing one such dilemma currently. On one hand, I can clear my conscience and provide a bit of a warning and openness to a friend... but at the same time, risk trouble for myself at work. On the other hand, I can keep my mouth shut, have that blemish on my conscience, and risk losing the trust of my friend. As cold as it may sound, friends come and go. But at the same time, so do jobs. The question is which one I would rather risk, and which has less chance of failing. The more important question, however, is whether I want that blemish on my conscience.

Branching Out

So I'm working on branching out some lately, expanding my horizons as it were. I've complained a fair bit that I don't get out enough, don't meet new people... so I'm doing something about it now.

Last night, I went to the grand opening of a local club, "The Cherry Lounge & Pit". It was a VIP only event, free drinks until 11pm, and I was offered a ticket... so hell yea! The place actually turned out to be very nice. The crowd was definitely a mixture that I wasn't expecting. The sign on the door claimed "strict dress code".. but the clientele didn't quite show evidence of that. Perhaps this was simply because of the nature of the event, but I was very happy with the diversity. While there, I met several new people, found a good new club, and perhaps somewhere I may try to spin in the future.

Today for lunch, I also decided to try something new. I had to run an errand at lunch, so I decided to stop somewhere near there for lunch: Teakwood Tavern & Grill. This place surprised me, I like it. My first impression when I walked in was that it was a total dive... albeit a bit bigger than your typical dive. Not that this is a bad thing, I've haunted my share of dives. The staff was very friendly; perhaps a bit slow, but it was a busy lunch time so that's excusable. I took my seat at the bar, got a glass of Kilt Lifter (bonus!) and ordered some kind of... honey mustard chicken sandwich. This thing comes out, and holy hell it was big. Tasty too! I couldn't taste too much of the honey mustard, probably not enough with the huge chunk of chicken on there. It also came with a small cup of "fresh" fruit.. well, mostly fresh anyhow. I may have just gotten a bad part of a pineapple, who knows. Overall though, I was pleasantly surprised. I can definitely see going back there again.

I gotta keep this up, I like this whole "new" thing. It suits me.

Action

...at the wrong time, or too late, can have disastrous consequences.

But in every change, there is good. It just depends how you handle the change and how you adapt to the results.

The search for a better life

"The grass is always greener on the other side." Right?

No, not always.

But that doesn't mean you should just stop and settle down once you've found a decently green patch of life. See, that's what I've got right now. I've got a pretty decent life. I make a decent salary, working a decent job. I live in a decent house in a decent city. I own lots of decent things. This should all make me a happy person.

But it doesn't.

The one thing I'm still searching for is the life that I actually want to stick with. The life where I'm no longer discontented with my situation; where I don't feel the need to improve my situation, because I'm certain I could be happier living differently. My greatest problem in this regard is, in fact, perhaps my greatest strength. I am constantly growing and improving as a person; and as a result, I need my surroundings to grow as well. I need my situation to change along with me. I've outgrown this city. I've outgrown this house. Though I've only been there for just over 6 months, I have more than outgrown my job. In essence, I've outgrown all of my surroundings... and yet, I still find myself in them. This is a constant point of frustration for me. I have, in fact, been looking for a new place to live for some time now. Currently, Portland is a very strong contender. I don't know that I could stay in Portland, however. It's a wonderful city, full of wonderful people, and I believe that it would be a good fit for me at this point in my life. I fear though that even Portland may not allow me to keep up my momentum of personal growth.

Guaranteed, as soon as it's a viable option, I will be dropping off the radar completely and living out my days on some remote island with nary a care aside from whether or not I want to get up from my chair for another drink.

Element Shift

When I started out 2 years ago, my life was ruled primarily by the element of earth, with an underlying tone of water. Earth is about docility, receptiveness, acceptance. I let people trample all over me, never stood up for myself. Water is about danger, change... water is always adjusting, compensating... I would roll with the punches. I would accept the shit that people would throw at me, and I would adapt to it.

Earlier this year, I changed. Those two elements switched, and my life was ruled more by water. Everything about me has been changing. I'm a totally different person from who I was before. But I've still been taking people's shit with no retribution. I'm constantly changing and rising to new challenges... but I'm still not standing up as much as I should. I've been on the path to the person I should be, but I haven't arrived.

Now is the time to be. This period of change is coming to a close. It's time for my life to be ruled by two completely new elements, wood and sky. Wood is about penetration, following. It's about strength and power. Sky is strength, creativity and pure will. Sky is being the person I've been working towards. It's time to stop dreaming and start living in what I've been working towards. I have no reason not to. My own doubts and fears are all that's been holding me back, I realize that now. It's time to shed those and live the way I'm meant to.

You think I've changed?

You ain't seen nothing yet.

Body modding

I've been thinking very seriously lately about getting into body modding.

I already know that I'm going to do tattoos over a large part of my torso. I have a back piece planned, as well as something for my left shoulder. I would like to get pieces figured out for other parts of me as well... and I know already how I'm going to link them together. That way it's not just a bunch of random patches of ink across my skin... they will actually flow together in a way.

More recently though I've been thinking about piercings as well. Partially because these are much cheaper than tattoos... and partially because I've always liked piercings. Once it was suggested that some piercings might look good on me.. well, it was all over.

So far, I'm thinking I would like to get (eventually) ears, septum, labret and bridge... all nice and symmetrical. The bridge might be a bit awkward, with the way my glasses sit... since I've got such a narrow bridge, my glasses sit right exactly where the piercing would go.

I still have a huge fear of needles... and I would definitely have to give my standard disclaimer of me + needles = passing out when I got pierced.. but I think this would also help me overcome that fear. Maybe.. somehow.

My other problem is, I don't know how these piercings will be viewed at work. I'm not even sure about ear piercings simply because of my job. Granted, this is a business casual environment... but some of these people are also very straight laced. Plus the fact that I actually have to meet with clients on occasion... which I hate (see my previous post about that.) I really want to start doing this stuff.. it just really interests me. I guess I'll have to ask if there's any kind of policy here about that. It just somewhat bugs me that work might actually restrict me from doing things like this, when really, it doesn't change at all who I am or how I perform my job. It just changes how I look... which really, they shouldn't give a damn about, as long as I'm presentable.

Management

So I posted here previously that I will soon have somebody working under me, and the stress and doubts associated with that. I think I can safely say that I'm over those fears. I'm certain that I will be a strong leader and also a good teacher. I have no doubts there anymore. The problem is, now I'm doubting if I want to be in that type of position. It may be that I was born to be in a leadership role of sorts... I have always somewhat fallen into that role in most situations in my life. I'm just not sure if I want that to be my job. I like obscurity... I like being the man behind the curtain, making things work from the shadows. I like having the freedom to actually work, without constraints, without distractions. Most of all though, I hate dealing with political bullshit. And to me, that's what comes with a management role. You have to deal with customers and other managers all the time, and you have to play political footsie with them. That's not something I enjoy, that's not something I want. Sure, I can bullshit with the best of em when I have to, but I couldn't live with myself if that's what I did for a job. I would start to hate my job, and I just got myself out of a position where I couldn't stand waking up in the morning, because it meant I had to drag myself in for another day of worthless time at my job.

Then again, who knows, maybe it won't be that way at all. I may be over analyzing. Being in a management position here might be just what I need. I suppose only time will tell.