Friday, February 28, 2014

Title goes here...

I can hear my heart beating in my head and my breath keeps time with the clacking of the keyboard. I have ear plugs in and a hood on and I can still hear most of whats being said a room away. A bit distracting to say the least and sure its hyperbole to say I want to kill everyone but when I am trying to get an idea for a story straight in my head, the last thing I need to worry about is chatter and the rumblings of a six pound dog.

the keyboard feels foreign. Like a stranger, like the hiring manager you’re trying to warm up to because they are the gate keeper to the job you want to land, you need to land. for whatever reason punctuation, a linear thought process and being able to find the P key have been elusive, as has the desire to eat dinner. I am hungry for progress not food and at times like these, it’s important for me to feed my brain, more so than to feed my face. there is no time for music or facebook or television or grabbing myself with both hands. there is not time to pet the dog, trying to sit on my left shoulder, like a four-legged parrot, there will be time for that later.

right now I stretch, mentally. I punch the keys in hopes of establishing a rhythm, creating muscle memory, finding my voice, ferreting out the one diamond in the mountains of coal and dog shit lodged within the confines of my grey matter. fuck you Pinkman. fuck you Heisenberg. the need is greater than the desire and I gotta get this shit out.

I hope you all are well.



Thursday, February 06, 2014

Little Talks with myself...

I'm sending this out to a bunch of people in need. Basically every cousin I have on my mom's side of the family, the Vermontster, K-Dubb, The Blogfather and hopefully there will be a smidge left for little old me.

Seems the nasties have been working overtime and their campaigns to get everyone down with the less than shiny happy thoughts have been less than successful. Therefore, they have take it upon themselves to throw some big-time monkey wrenches into the physical works of some pretty cool people. When I stop and think of it, "ain't nobody got time for that..."

So here is my treaty to the Universe and everything in it, to maybe ease up on the whip for a while.

This week I was finally able to use the health insurance I signed up for, four months ago. I was told it would be all set to go by 1/1/14 but there are always bumps in the road you see and while I still had said insurance, said insurance company said, "Yeah...we don't feel like doing what we said we were going to do so, 2/1/14, that's when you're good to go. Now in most cases, I am smarter and more patient than the average bear but after not being able to health care professionals of varying specialties, for a lengthy period of time, I was a little perturbed, shall we say.

Even more so, when I met with a professional who, I presumed was going to be my new therapist. After the initial interview, they start to end the session with something to the effect of, "If I'm hearing you correctly, it sounds like you have a good deal of underlying anger, depression and grief. These things are not really in my wheel house and so I think it would be better for me to refer you to someone more suitable for your needs." Of course I am paraphrasing here but that was the general idea of what was said.

Picture a cartoon character, sitting on a couch, big glasses, blinking and not moving and you have pretty much what I must have looked like. Having worked in mental health for a good portion of my life, I saw this coming but really hoped this person was going to man up and be the person to help me get my head right. No such luck. I will say that they did come through with referral info within two days but was obviously not listening to me as I told them I would prefer a woman and that I was not willing to go back on medication.

I'm not going to lie. After they told me anger, depression and grief were not in their wheel house, I felt like asking, "what the fuck did you go to grad school for then?" I kept it classy. There was part of me that wanted to call the office back and thank them for dragging me out in a snowstorm and wasting my time.Maybe ask if they even listened to anything I said but, I've been trying to keep it positive and so I am going to back out on my own and try to navigate the waters of mental health professionals until I get someone who I feel can help me accomplish my goals. Whatever the fuck those are. I might even look up the social worker I talked to in high school, when I had what I believe to be the break that started it all. Going right back down the well to my own personal book of Genesis. Can't wait to see what I'm not supposed to eat this time. Until then I'm thinking the warm thoughts and smiling,even though my heart is breaking.

I hope you all are well.


P.S. This is the song of late that puts a smile on my face, when the voices tell me to kill everyone.

The music & video above are property of  OF MONSTERS AND MEN and their respective recording companies.

Monday, December 16, 2013

If I said...

I woke at 7am that might be somewhat of an exaggeration. However, if I said I woke about ten minutes to 7, was up and dressed and had the dogs out, relieved myself and took out recycling by 7am, that would not.I put myself to bed last night at the obscene hour of 3:29am. I watcher Zero Dark Thirty earlier in the night, dicked around on facebook for awhile and had hopes of finishing the book I'm currently reading but you know, road to hell and all that.

So... I listened to an episode of Aisha Tyler's, Girl on Guy podcast, one I had not heard before, with one of my most favorite comics ever, Bill Burr! That took me to 3:29 am and by that time, my back was hurting to the point that breathing was becoming somewhat painful. Rather than take more ibuprofen, I laid down and started, Dark Side of the Moon. Yeah, that was not going to work so, I switched over to this guy, Tom Segura
After the change, all was good in the hood, as the kids are fond of saying these days. I've only just recently discovered Tom. I like his comedy. It's like observational humor but with an edge. Loss of consciousness due to chuckling, only to wake a mere three hours later. Apparently I had a hair across my ass about getting shit done today. We'll see how that goes.

I hope you all are well.



Thursday, December 12, 2013

I didn't know...

it at the time but the 90's were pretty freakin' sweet. Never in my life have I had more free time and discretionary income as I did during the Clinton era. Love him or hate him, those were some good years.

1991 saw me liberated from the four year sentence know as, "high school." Know matter where I go, or who I talk to, they refer to that period in their lives with what I can almost call an unhealthy reverence and nostalgia. It's not like nostalgia is lost on me, I get it. I tend to go there a bit too often myself but, when I do, the last place I want to go is back to high school....EVER.

The early 90's for me were all about enjoying the freedom not having to be in school afforded me. While I admit I lacked direction during this point in time, I really do think a break from the classroom was what I needed. Looking back, had I had any sort of guidance from a counselor or an older brother or maybe just someone I was not supposed to be diametrically opposed to, like my parents, I think it might not have taken me so long to put the rubber to the road so to speak. Eventually the desperate times call forth desperate measures and luckily I was able to get out of my head, get out of the asshole of the country and go away to college. I had less direction that before but at least I was moving, maybe only laterally so but I was moving and that is more productive than treading water. Besides as fun as being a wage slave and going to see bands 3-4 nights a week was, it was not going to last forever.

Watching, "PJ20" I can remember the emergence of Gen X, grunge and how at the time, if we had all been a little more aware then, my generation would be even angrier now. I could be wrong but that's just one mans opinion. The part of the documentary that sticks out the most to me is the Andy Rooney segment they aired, I'm assuming, during Pearl James rise to stardom. The loveable curmudgeon rips on the young people of the day and asks, something to the effect of, "what's the matter with kids today and what have they got to be so upset about?" I suppose at the time it was a fair question. Those same kids he felt were, "belly aching" at the time, well some of them have grown into people who will work until the day they drop dead and not all of them at their dream job.

I don't fault Rooney for taking that position, for all intents and purposes, it's his job. I do however feel that line of thinking was a bit myopic even two decades ago. Either way, having a flash of rage and saying, "Fuck You Andy Rooney!" is not going to change anything and realistically only made me feel better for a few seconds. After finishing the film, I decided I was going to go and listen to the bands discography, since I was only really familiar with the first two or three studio releases. It took the better part of three days and I'm pretty confident in saying I would rate the catalog 9/10 on the whole. Yes, there is not a whole lot of what was put out on their first release, "Ten" but Pearl Jam are a great rock band, who have crafted some amazing music. If you are not familiar or have forgotten about them, I recommend going back and giving them another listen.

I hope you all are well.


Tuesday, December 10, 2013

It's the first...

snowfall of the year and the picture to the left reminds me somewhat of the street I grew up on, except there would be less trees and more dog shit-style triple-deckers. Even so, it was still a decent place, until I was about fifteen or so. Even then, there could have been MANY worse places to live. It's all about perspective, at least that's what I believe &  what I tell people.

The big holiday is right around the corner and even though there are less than a month of Sundays before the big day arrives, you'd never know it here. Maybe two houses on the street lit up. We've got a wreath with lights and stuff but, it's over the fire place and not on the door or anything, There is not an official boycott on the big holiday but I'd be lying if I said things are not tight. Between my medical issues and others medical issues in my family, we're pretty much glad to just be alive. I'm putting myself to sleep with this post.

In addition to my usual well wishes, I'd like to ask everyone to be a little nicer to everyone, not just those people who need it, and there are certainly those, but until you've walked a mile in their shoes, you have no idea what they go through. Evan as uncomfortable as my shoes or shoe as the case may be, have been this year, I would not trade them with most people. So, do what you can. I'm not asking for sainthood here. Hug someone who needs it. Call or email a friend. Mend a friendship that has fallen by the wayside. Tell someone you love them. Honestly look at what you have and be grateful.

I hope you all are well.


Monday, December 09, 2013

The bus is...

Sending out an S.O.S

so far in the ditch I have no idea how to pull it out. I’m like a diver with a bad, bad case of narcosis so, I’m calling all the angels and praying to every god I know and some I don’t. I’ve even said a few nice things to gods who have no idea who I am and just so I can feel like I’ve got all the bases covered, I’ve even asked the advice of the one and only blogfather.
Ive been
eating my vegetables
trying to get a good nights sleep
and made sure I’ve drunk my Ovaltine
any advice, positive vibes or good juju sent my way would be greatly appreciated.

I hope you all are well.


Wednesday, August 28, 2013

Life on Planet...

Weird is getting to be really monotonous.

I received a phone call today from the surgeons office. A call I was going to go ahead and make since, after my last checkup, I had no time when my surgery was going to take place, nor no pre-op prescription for antibiotics, which for diabetics is standard operating procedure or at least that's I've been told.

So...the call

I need to give some sort of frame of reference here. The surgery I am about to have, should have happened months ago. However, I was hospitalized with collateral damage from stuff already done to me. While I was on every good anti-biotic known to man, the surgeons thought this would be a great time to filet me and get going on the work needed on my plumbing. Had anyone asked me, I would have thought that was a great idea. HAD ANYONE TOLD ME I WOULD HAVE SHOWED UP FOR SURGERY.

There are few things more embarrassing than getting a call from a surgeon at 8am, asking where I am? So, my date for said surgery was pushed back. 2 MONTHS...not my fault...2 GD MONTHS

Today they call and tell me, "my surgery was never booked."

I suppose I should have been shocked but I wasn't. Disappointed? Yes. Hopeful about getting done on time? Not really. My surgeon was in surgery and so OR co-ordinator was going to talk to him about this SNAFU and I briskly reminded her, "This is the second time I'm missing surgery and neither has been my fault." She reassured me but had not one ounce of confidence in her voice this was going to be taken care of, on time.

So I'm waiting, by the phone, like the weird kid in high school, on a Friday night.

2 whiskies and a vicodin and I can still type like I had a diet coke. Now that's just a damn shame.

I hope you all are well.