This is interesting...

Cyberbeg.com

This site, as you'd guess, is a place for people to set up a small website asking for help. I read through a few of them. It makes me wish I had something to give. If you do, maybe you'll check it out? If you don't, this might be a good place to ask for help.

I don't know what to say today

So I'll just blurt some shit to get it out of my head.
I feel like a loser today. I think I might be having some kind of mid-life crisis. I think I spent most of my teen years self-medicating so well (to hide from the cancer symptoms that were over-taking me) that I managed to learn nothing, do nothing, and be nothing. And here I am again, sitting on my ass doing nothing. I spent the last three days asleep. Literally. I don't even known how that's possible, but I did it. I'm not depressed, but I am frustrated. I don't know where I'm going, or what I'm supposed to be doing, and the sand is falling so fast that it's burying me. Every day means another mountain of bills, disconnect notices, foreclosures, eviction papers... I put out the fires, but the sparks always remain. I can see the light at the end of the path, but I'm crawling backward fast as I can, kicking and screaming, cuz I'm not done yet. I didn't get a chance to do anything, to fix anything, to change anything... My baby needs a mother, someone who can teach her, protect her, and support her. All I know how to do is grow new tumors and swallow pills. So much pain... I've been in pain every day for over eight years now, it's getting hard to believe I'm in my 20s. And nobody listens to anyone. This world is a mess. I can't help but wonder why I want to stay, to fix things... Between my daughter's health problems and mine, I can't hold down a job for shit, so I'm going to school... I don't know what for, but fuck, I had to do SOMETHING. With nothing but a 6th grade education, you can't pay bills for two people alone. School's fine, I guess. I get good grades, it's not hard. You just do the work, and they'll give you A's for it. I don't really get why people think it's so hard. Trying raising a kid all alone. Try figuring out how to pay all your bills on minimum wage and still get to your radiation treatment appointments. Try growing up with a crazy lady who steals all your pills, throws heavy shit at your mom at 3 am, and kicks you out of the house at age 10 for forgetting to do the dishes one time. That's hard. College, not so much. They give you the answers. All you gotta do is listen. I was pulling A's in classes I only came to once a week. College is easy if you can figure out how to get there. Life, on the other hand, is fucking hard.
I don't know what to do. I have chronic health problems, a disintegrating back, no help with childcare... I don't really have any skills or talents, I never really had time to learn any between hospital visits and family bullshit. I can't do anything physically strenuous, in fact, I'm not even sure I can show up every day. My daughter and I both have shitloads of doctor's appointments, and frankly, I'm so fucking tired, I feel like I'm already dead. I am in chronic, rather severe pain, and have been for years. And, no, it can't be treated. Maybe with drugs that make me more tired. Sweet, that helps. I'm lost in a sea of faces...

someone please make this

I want my computer to know that it is nighttime and dim its screen brightness accordingly. I'd practically kill for this functionality. I can't be the only person that finds a computer screen absolutely blinding at 1 am. It would be great if this could then be expanded to cell phones. An example of the necessity here: it's late at night and you're driving down a dark highway. Your phone, placed safely out of reach, suddenly begins to ring, and of course; it lights up. The light is very bright, as cell phones usually are. You glance down at it, and for a brief few seconds, you are completely blinded... Do you get where I'm going with this? Why doesn't an auto-dimmer exist yet? Please, super brilliant tech people... make this. My eyes feel like they're gonna bleed. Yeah, I know I can change my settings, but it just isn't practical to go through so many menus for something so simple.
Auto-dim please.

So this really has nothing to do with anything....

but I wanted to voice my opinion about it, so here it is:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Delirium_tremens

^^^^^
This, is absolutely terrifying. And I have seen someone go through it firsthand, with my own eyes. Watching someone literally seize from alcohol withdrawal is very scary. I can't even imagine how horrible it must be to go through.

The more I learn about alcohol, the more I begin to question the drug war in the US. Alcohol kills people. We know that. Not only does alcohol cause a myriad of health complications for the person(s) imbibing, but it also causes reduced decision making capacity without necessarily causing a person to be less active. Think about it: so many people drink a few drinks, and think they're perfectly ok to get behind the wheel of their 3,000 pound car. Or to start a fight with so and so... It causes things like black esophagus, severe liver failure, brain damage, and causes many different kinds of cancers, etc. If you've never read about the dangers of alcohol, I urge you to seek it out, and watch a few episodes of Dr. G. A huge number of her caseload comes in the form of completely preventable alcohol-related deaths.

In addition to all of those things, withdrawal from it can be FATAL.

This is one of those things that makes me wonder... why is this horrible toxin legal when so many other things aren't? Take pot, for example. Here is a substance with some degree of medical value. It is highly beneficial for nausea & vomiting, and can restore appetite in those who have lost theirs. It even has some pain relieving properties. That's what we've proven so far. I highly doubt that pot has ever directly killed anyone. When people get stoned, do they go out and kill people for their next "fix"? No, in fact; marijuana withdrawal has very few symptoms at all. It is not thought to even BE physically addictive.

Do people decide they are in fact, ok to drive their car, and cause thousands of innocent people to die in fiery crashes after partaking? No, they eat potato chips and watch cartoons.

Does it cause significant brain damage? No. Unlike alcohol (esp. see chronic effects: http://pubs.niaaa.nih.gov/publications/aa63/aa63.htm ).

Now, don't get me wrong, I'm not some hippie pothead. It's really not for me. If it were legal, and I'd been unable to eat for a while, I probably would. But the high is of no interest to me. However, I find it disturbing to say the least that something so completely benign is illegal, while something as damaging to society as a whole (alcohol, for clarity) is perfectly legal. What the hell are you thinking, people???

Look at the damage this shit causes. Seriously. Compare and contrast. Alcohol is related to more deaths in this country than every other street drug combined. Why bother making everything else illegal when this one is ok?

so I have this report due...

It's for English class. I usually don't need to come here to get those started... English papers seem to just fall right out of my head, spilling out onto my paper, and into my teacher's hands. I usually don't have trouble with writing at all, but writing for English class seems even more natural than other kinds. It's almost like writing for myself, in a way; I'm writing something that will fulfill the requirements of the assignment, in an interesting way. That's the idea right? When I write papers for classes, I always think, "if I were grading this, would I take points off for that?", thus forming the entire structure of my paper.
Maybe I never mentioned this, but when I was in 7th grade, I somehow tested "out" of my English class. They said I didn't have to go any more. But wait! That's not all. They then decided that They could utilize my apparently advanced comprehension of the English language. So, they made me a T.A. for a 9th grade English class. That way, their 9th grade English teacher could have an assistant, and I didn't have to sleep through English (still earning A's, mind you) any more. This pattern continued for the rest of the time I was in school. I had a few other teachers enlist me to "help" grade papers in college, also.

So, I know how to grade English papers. Because I know how English papers are graded, I know how to get good English grades. Actually, it stands to reason that I already knew how to get good English grades BEFORE being enlisted by the Kent School District. (Yeah, I named names like that)

So. Why. The. Hell. Am. I. Having. A. Hard. Time. With. This. One.? (hint- that was spoken through gritted teeth)
Well, excruciating pain might be one reason. Possibly. Time, maybe, could be another. Lack of reliable short term-memory, perhaps? I have an appointment on Tuesday for some kind of new relief for chronic back pain, I hope. I don't know what she'll look for, what she'll find, or what she'll prescribe... I just know that I can't continue to live in this much pain. And ibuprofen will kill me before Maybe there are bone spurs. I have no idea. I really haven't felt this before. The vertebrae are not aligned correctly, but that's because of a basically decimated disc between the last thoracic and first lumbar vertebrae. They have been like that for a long, long time. They, and the two dislocations (one lumbar, one cervical), and the rest of the chronic disc compression (throughout my spine); are the reasons I was once told exactly what the maximum dose of ibuprofen is for my weight, and for how many days in a row I can take it without causing damage. (About two weeks)

After that many days, contact a physician who will prescribe something stronger(usually vicodin). I know that routine. This must be the pain they were telling me about... the "future" pain that they said was coming. "I don't see any spurs or anything... YET." This is different from when it goes "out" - usually, that is an acute episode that occurs when I try to lift something heavy, yes, properly. I can't lift heavy things, no matter how I say it, don't believe me. Even proper lifting fucks my back completely, landing me in bed for two weeks on pain pills & muscle relaxants (cyclobenzaprine, yes, really that many times.)

Then, there is the chronic, baseline pain that I've felt for almost as long as I can remember. I think I was about 20 when that started. During my labor (childbirth, if you didn't catch that), I somehow managed to dislocate something in the lumbar area. It hurt worse than the delivery itself (which was completely drug-free). That's when the chiropractor decided he needed to adjust me at least three times a week. This was BEFORE both of the car accidents. There was one time that I lifted something incorrectly. Once. Because it was a job requirement. You cannot, I repeat; CANNOT physically throw a 50 bag of potting soil into a truck that is taller than you without doing it in a way that puts your back in danger. It can't be done. To those who have done this without being injured, congratulations, your back is obviously stronger than mine. That was the injury that started everything else. The disc ruptured, or something, I'm not really sure. I was heavily medicated when they told me what it did. At that point, I was told that there was already a lot of degeneration (yeah, maybe that caused the injury - still not good. Have someone taller do it), and they weren't surprised that I was in pain. "But no spurs or anything. YET."

That disc continued to slip in and out of place, usually painlessly (except for 1 or 2 "episodes" per year, when it hurt so bad it knocked me on my ass) for years. Until one day, By this point, I had been in the car accident that "reversed" the curve in my neck (and the one after that made it worse), and I'd been dealing with the chronic pain of the whateverthefuck in the lumbar area. So, it was just one more thing. Irritating, but not the worst. It was kind of bulgy-feeling for about a year, but having been through thousands of dollars worth of chiropractic, and thousands of dollars worth of physical therapy, and thousands of dollars worth of massage therapy, etc., I really didn't want to deal with it. Besides, I couldn't really take time off at the time. So, I didn't ask about it, and I didn't go. I just took my ibuprofen at the first twinge of pain, and stopped it when I could reach above my head without pain. Even though I still had muscle spasms (granted, those could also be from low blood calcium - no parathyroids, remember?), and occasionally experienced sudden muscle weakness that resulted in fun things like the occasional spilled gallon of milk. WHOLE gallon. As in, my hand suddenly decided that it didn't want to listen any more, and the milk was on the floor. This happened at work, too, resulting in broken glass, lost samples, and nicknames like, "butterfingers". Fun.

A few months ago, my back as a WHOLE started to get gradually worse. Now, it's excruciating. The WHOLE THING. So yeah. It sucks. That's all I'm saying.

Zero to twenty years blues

I hate coming up with titles. But that's not really the point. I have health insurance now. I think I mentioned that earlier. But apparently it won't save me, at least not in the long term. Did you know that when they say "long term survival" they mean 10 year? I didn't. Way back in April (i know it's been a while, but I'm still processing), I said something to my doc about not planning to die any time soon. Guess what he said to me? He said I'll be lucky if I make it to 50. Why, you ask? Well, my dear readers, my cancer is childhood cancer. Meaning that instead of properly developing things that are necessary for living, say, 80 years, my body was losing the battle against cancer. Instead of healthy tissue, I was growing metastases. That's why so many things are already breaking down (teeth, for one. Those of you who know me know what I mean). So... Upon first realizing that he is obviously right, I was... I wanna say... morbidly depressed, maybe. Then, the ever-bargaining scientist in me was compelled to read the actual data. It confirmed what he said, but I also learned that I AM lucky. Other cancers cause far worse symptoms, far worse side-effects, after effects, and when it comes down to it; probably cause a more painful death.

Of the things that could kill me, concerning my much milder cancer:

Recurrence, which includes risks like the cancer itself (yes, thyroid cancer DOES kill people), embolism, heart attack, stroke, and any other complication caused by excessive T4, or insufficient ability to turn synthetic T4 into T3 successfully, breathing difficulties (tumors are known to sometimes grow in areas where air should be), etc. In addition, childhood thyroid cancer is NOT slow-growing. Recurrences aren't slow either. Ask my stomach.

With all cancer treated and gone, there are still big risks. These include, but aren't limited to: blood chemistry problems (i, for example have zero parathyroid glands because my primary tumor, um.. Ate them), hypocalcemia, hyperglacemia (that's diabetes), increased risk of other cancers, heart attack & stroke (though lower risk than with cancer), and a whole lot of other odd things that don't seem related to the untrained person. On one hand, I wonder if the increases in life expectancy might be some sort of punishment, I know I live in chronic pain and have constant health issues... but, I am also well aware that my suffering pales in comparison to some... But it lasts longer. I guess that has perks and drawbacks, like everything else...

But, back to where i was before: Lucky to make it to 50.

When i am 50 (if i make it there), my daughter will be 30. My mother will be 68. My siblings, 41 and 36. I suppose everyone would be mature enough to handle it, but they shouldn't have to. That's what bothers me. Oh, did I mention I'm already 28? I'm 8.5 years past treatment #1. This means that according to my endocrinologist, my life is already half over. Granted, it's a lot longer than I had when I first walked into his office (he guesses maybe 6 months to one year, yeah I was a goner - I was already physically rejecting food & puking blood).

Another point: the use of the word, "lucky" to me, means that the alternative is more likely. So, if I'm "lucky", my daughter will be 30 when she buries her mother. Most likely, she'll be younger. I don't get to grow old with someone, or play with grandchildren... I might not even see my daughter graduate high school.

Adding to the risk factors is my brief but damaging drug history and total dependence on nicotine. Another factor: degenerative disc disease is treated with narcotic pain relief. There is nothing else. I'm also pre-diabetic (sub-clinical), and I have been forever; probably because my body never got the chance to grow right. In a childhood cancer survivor, these risks are obviously exponentially larger, AND many doctors have no idea how to deal with survivors, simply because they haven't treated many. Diabetes & thyroid cancer occur together a lot, but don't mix so well. Also, my personal recurrence likelihood is really, really large. I was stage 4 under one staging method, stage 2 under the one that uses age, and something else entirely in pediatric, which is where I really belong, staging-wise. I am a pediatric statistic.

And we die young. I'm really starting to wish I believed in God. I know everyone has to face this eventually but I think I have the "zero to twenty years blues".

Posted via HTC G2. That's right, bitches.

Oh yeah...

Once again, I forgot to give you guys the good stuff... My total disinterest in today's music has led me to become more focused musically. I've decided to start a band and make music. I figure if basically all of the music coming out currently sucks ass and lacks artistic vision and integrity (imho, most of what is coming out these days sadly falls into this category), it's time for me to at least attempt to fix that. Otherwise I have no right to continue to bitch (and bitch I do). So, I'm rewriting my lyrics, investing in guitar lessons, and seeking like minded bandmates. I have been lucky so far, I've already come across several people who have come to the very same conclusion. Yay!

In other, less interesting for you news, I have a wonderful new phone that I +fucking+ adore. This thing is amazing!!!! It's the HTC Desire Z a.k.a. G2. (It goes by two names because tmobile already named a previous handset g2)

Actually, I'm writing this blog directly from said amazing handset. So that's the current news in my world. That and I really miss my grandmother. But, she isn't in pain any more wherever she is.

Oh, and the wonderful President Obama's healthcare reform has made buying insurance possible for me. Thank you, Mr. President. :)

Now if I can just get some of this goddamned pain to mellow out so I can get something done...

Argh

Oh, the wonders of chronic pain... I

am so fucking SICK of being in pain. Sometimes, I feel like I just wasn't built to last, like at any given point I could just completely fall apart. The leg pain... It comes from WHERE exactly????? Oh. We STILL don't know. Awesome.

The Circle Of Life

Life is a strange configuration.
The force that burns within us all feels so strong.
Until one day... when it doesn't.

Like the sun, it rises slowly, we reach our milestones
it burns intensely with the all rage of a nine-to-five job
and then the sun must set, whether in a nursing home, or suddenly.

I saw a poster in a nursing home recently that read "The sunset is just as beautiful as the sunrise", and I had to concur. It really should be. I do know the physical realities of it, but without the beauty of a soul finally finishing its long, intrepid journey on our island Earth, where is the meaning?

I wish I knew what happens when the sun goes down. That Grandma will finally be reunited with her long-lost love Grandpa, that the cat who fought lymphoma so hard is finally at peace, that there will finally be something for those poor little kids in third world countries... Something that makes up for it all... I know there exists a plethora of religions that attempt to explain what happens after we die, of course; but the thing is - no one really knows, for a fact. Only those who have come before ever could, and last I checked, when they talk, it is largely believed to be some sort of hallucination.

What do you think? Anyone? What is your personal version of what happens after you die?

I don't know what to think any more. My Great Grandmother (I know, but she deserves a set of capitals) passed away today, after battling the aftermath of a massive stroke that left her totally hemiplegic for about six months. She fought hard, even though she admitted it was hard to when she missed her late husband so much. I'm sure gonna miss her. I'm not sure what else I can say just yet, because I don't think I've really processed it yet.

So, what do you think? What happens when you die?

Other things

I'm really enjoying being back at school. It's a little odd sometimes, since most of my classmates are about 10 years younger than me, but overall, it's nice anyway. I recently learned that I actually enjoy math - something I never would have imagined possible. As it turns out, it's much more interesting when less numbers are involved. I wonder... are people who are good at algebra any more likely to also excel at calculus...? I hope so... because it looks like I'll be taking at least one math class per quarter (plus other classes that contain math, many of which contain some form of calculus) for about the next five years (or longer).

I have a paper to write and I'm procrastinating. My teacher has chosen a rather mundane & common past experience for us to write about, in great detail. I find myself completely unable to remember my personal experience in the least little bit, so I haven't started yet. I understand the point of the assignment completely, and I will do it... but that doesn't stop me from wishing it could be about something a little more abstract. Or even a present-tense situation. I can't even remember what I had for dinner last night & now I'm trying to remember the last cut that I had? In detail?? I was kind of hoping that if I put it off long enough, I'd accidentally cut myself, and thus be able to write about it. A present-tense cut is something I can write about because it is happening *currently*. I can see it, feel it, and bypass my often hazy memory.

The last one, on the other hand, I can't even remember what it felt like... I have a terrible memory for physical pain. I suppose in a way, most of us do. If we didn't, our population would probably decrease some...

the vague sense of restlessness and other such things...

So I was reading through some of the older posts, and I started to remember that you guys used to leave me comments. :(

No comments any more? That makes me sad... I was actually being sincere when I said that I appreciated them. :(

Please leave me comments...? You guys give me something to smile about.

Since this has 975 views to date, I thought I'd give you guys something more interesting to read.

My vague sense of restlessness has been with me since i was a small child. It follows me wherever I wander off to, and is unrelenting. I am never at peace with anything, about anything, never. I am perpetually in a state of some sort of turmoil that never ceases. I don't know whether to medicate it away, or befriend it. But it is a part of me, so I suppose the latter would be advisable. But I never follow my own good advice.

Interestingly, nobody ever offers me advice. They sure ask for a lot from me, though. 

and more...

I told you it gets full in here. If I posted all of it for you, you might be as crazy as I am.

I can't remember what I was planning on saying in that last post, but it feels unfinished.

Have you ever run into someone you haven't seen in 10 years or so...? I don't mean just anyone that you used to know... I mean a long lost best friend sort of person...
It seems to happen to me a lot lately. I find someone that I've been searching... really searching for... someone that I miss deeply. It turns out they've been searching for me, too! So we meet up, we talk for a while, catch up... and that's the end of it. Every. Single. Time. It seems like they think, "Oh, so that's what happened to you. I wondered." and that's it. Here I am, still longing for that deep beautiful emotional connection... the kind you can't seem to create readily after age twelve or so... At first, I always think that I must have done something wrong, or said something wrong that made them decide that I was not in fact, worth all of the effort... that meeting me again was somehow anti-climactic. Eventually, I decide that since I've successfully survived without them for the last 10 or 15 years, I can probably continue as before. It's still depressing, though.


I know that I am essentially polluting the internet by publishing such mindless drivel, but I'm upset and when I'm upset, the monologue must come OUTSIDE before I can feel better and since I have no one to talk to, you're all stuck with me. Besides, if you don't want to hear it, you could always leave my diary (that's where you are).

Today, I learned that some people actually become upset listening to another person verbally (or this way) sort out their thoughts and feelings. I was completely oblivious to this phenomenon, despite the fact that I'm sure someone has voiced the complaint before. So, to anyone bothered by the thoughts and emotions of other people, I'm sorry. I really am. I still can't actually fathom your reasoning, but I can still be sorry. I will try to direct more of my personal rant stream at people who aren't bothered by it in the future. I actually enjoy listening to other people rant, because I know I am providing them a useful service. Besides, once they feel better and stop talking, my work is done anyway, right? Again, just more of my opinions...

So, I finally baked the chocolate chip cookies. I still can't remember what I was originally going to post here, but I think I've stepped out of my loop at this point. I'm sure I'll remember it later (or not).

more brain emptying

Yet again, I want coffee. Since it's close to midnight, I figure it's a bad idea. I was thinking about making cookies. For about the last three hours. Somehow, I still haven't mustered up the emotional energy to tackle that job. I can't decide if I'm depressed because I'm understimulated, or understimulated because I'm depressed.

I'm frustrated today. More specifically, I'm frustrated about the fact that I'm all alone. Just like I wanted. See, it gets to this point... where... how can I put this...? I guess I just get overwhelmed. My brain feels full, and most likely, I've been over-extending myself for others a bit (that's an understatement, if you didn't catch it)... and then, I retreat. What I mean by retreat is that I hide in my bed. It's warm there, and there is plenty of space to sort things out. And I need that. Really, I don't know how other people go without it. I'd go nuts (yeah, I know, but more so). So, anyway... I hide. I don't talk to anyone, well, at least I don't reach out to anyone. I still respond, but it's not the same way, I'm preoccupied... I should have outgrown this by now. Or at least learned to minimize it, like all the "functional" people do. What is "functional", really? When I was working, I still showed up and did my job and everything, but I was quieter. Somewhere else. It's hard to explain. It's sort of like mentally taking a mini-vacation. I just check out.

Anyway... this habit tends to shake people off. Often times, I genuinely want to KEEP some of those people, I just want to make sure that when they interact with me, they get ME. ALL of me, not just the glazed-over, preoccupied crap. Everyone has selfish, right? This is mine, I guess. But, I tend to wake up a few months later, and realize that everyone's gone. Now that I have the energy to be there, to be available, to listen, to advise, to truly engage... they're gone. Some people understand, and they know I'll come back, because I always do and I always will. If I'm not planning on coming back, I am not unclear about it.

Still, I miss people, and occasionally feel a little abandoned. Yes, I know that's dumb, because it's my fault. I don't really want to be pulled back... but it does hurt when people don't come back when I do.

Stream of Consciousness

Yes, that's right tiny readership!
It's your lucky day. Once again you have stumbled into my personal thought-sorting-dish. I'm sure there is a better phrase for that, but frankly; I'm tired and can't be bothered to think of it now. I'm sure it'll come to me later... Anyway... I go on with my warning.
This blog may contain the following possibly offensive materials: thought streams that make no sense to anyone but the writer, inside jokes that no one gets, misplaced pop culture references, misplaced anger, transference, and other nonsense that you don't care about. If you find any of these things offensive/irritating/whatthefuckever, bear in mind that you have been warned and I take no personal responsibility to your unnecessary overreaction.

That said... I need coffee. Like yesterday. Seriously... Television is getting old. I think unemployment is beginning to take over my mind. Oh yeah, I did get fired... the funny thing is WHY i got fired, but I really don't feel like sharing that at present. Suffice to say there had been a fair amount of role strain placed on me, and my talents will be better suited elsewhere. Damn fingers. I hate you, too. For now, education. Have I mentioned I hate cancer? I'd have already earned a bachelor's by now if not for stupid fucking cancer. Cancer treatment makes studying rather difficult. Anyway... I have to pick a major soon and I'm not sure what I should pick, since I never took anything in high school (you know, since I didn't go...). I actually find physics fascinating, but there's a little detail that prevents me from majoring in it... I've never actually taken it. I just studied it in my free time during stupid cancer treatment. Stupid cancer. I hate cancer.

Oh yeah... since I tell you guys all of my secrets anyway (when I want to)... here's one: My doctor discovered several new masses. I'm supposed to go in for a follow up for it (this is now 6 months after the discovery of said masses), only - here's the best part - I HAVE NO INSURANCE. Of course that all goes back to my daughter contracting Pertussis (getting fired - I got fired because I had to stay home with her while she was sick. She's 7.)... What the fuck, right? That's what I said. Sometimes I wonder why I didn't just refuse treatment and wander off into the woods when they told me. That was way back in 2003, the beginning of this mess. Sometimes, I think I am the very person that cancer sets out to kill, I am the sort that evolution probably doesn't want. Evolution wants mediocrity, right? Nothing about me is mediocre... What little is good is very good, and alternately, that which has spoiled leaves no detail untouched.

My iPod died recently. I, being the extreme klutz that I am, took one step out of my chair (this one) and in one fell swoop hurt my ankle, tore the metal bits of the sync cable apart, and sent the iPod flying across the room and into a homeless abandoned cooler, which actually split the casing on the iPod. Since it is an incredibly old iPod, and I am reasonably tech savvy, I tinkered with it (still mostly closed) and tried to get the drive to boot. I tried all of the usual tricks, from Apple's tried and true (your god, I hate that expression) all the way down to the logo-smack technique, but to no avail. I opened it, and assessed the hard drive and determined it to be toast. I think I used to have a point, but it has long since been lost. Hey, I warned you.

Time for coffee.

how?

How do you put all the pieces back together when half of them never made into the box in the first place?

I LOATHE p2k

Someone really needs to create a user friendly tool for modding phones. P2K is waaaaaaaaaaaaay too complex for the average user, who likely just wants to play a damn game on their phone. Seriously, if I wanted to spend my whole day programming, I'd be getting paid for it. I even know a little about programming, but the idea of trying to get my vista computer to recognize my razr with P2K is about as appealing as ripping off every piece of flesh on my body individually.

The last time I worked with this program, I was using a very simple XP set-up with a W490. It took instructions from about 6 different sites, multiple attempts and several days just to get the computer to notice that a phone had been plugged in. And the W490 has a memory card. You'd think that would make it EASIER. Fucking ridiculous.

This time, I'm running a much more complex vista system, and working with a razr circa 2000. I'm beginning to wonder if this is even possible. The computer has recognized the phone, and according to ALL instructions, all should be well. Except that P2K sucks ass. Don't get me wrong, when it's working, it's amazing. When it works, it's the best tool you could possibly find for your phone. It's confusing as all hell to use, but it gives you complete control over your phone, and even lets you bypass all the bullshit media blocking that most companies use to force you to buy their shit.

Getting it working, on the other hand, is nearly impossible. There aren't many things in the world that I would want to pay someone to do for me. Getting P2K to work is one of the very few. I hate this.

Clearly, I'm not the only person who has had issues... Check the 18 billion forums... There are thousands of us. Sure, many are more patient than I... I'm sure the people who are successful are much better at following each and every tiny little instruction than I am. Great. I just think there ought to be a program with less than 14 million individual instructions. There should be something simpler out there. It's a great program, but installation alone is needlessly complex.

Update: I found version 6. Version 6 found my phone. It seems to be working.
Whoever created version 6, you rock. Thank you. :)

More detail...

Says the instructor... This course is driving me just a little nuts, I won't lie. I think I spend more time trying to find my homework that I spend actually doing it. That aside, I have a gigantic report due today. It doesn't have to be complete, I'm supposed to submit it 'unfinished'. Now, that whole concept is rather foreign to my very nature, but that's beside the point.

More importantly, I have the entire report done except for the detailed musical descriptions. Since the assignment is a musical review, that would be the 'meat' of the report. Sweet. Despite knowing that my last review was lacking in the details department, I was feeling halfway confident about this report. I actually completed most of it before the concert, as specified by the (vague) instructions.

However, the day before this second report is due, the instructor hands back the graded copy of the first one. "More detail", he says. I might add here, that I'm not the biggest fan of 'details'. To me, they seem to be minute, passing little observations that don't serve much purpose. I would generally rather solve the puzzle as a whole all at once than pick out little bits to analyze individually. Picking things to bits makes little sense to me. I can zero in on bits that have an apparent purpose, but not usually intentionally. For example, if I'm talking to you, I *will* notice if you have a cut on your hand. I will probably remember most of what you've said, and can often recite it many years later. I will not notice what time it is, what the weather is like, what you're wearing, etc. Those things don't matter much to me. What difference does it really make if it was raining when you said, "______"??? The point is what you said, right? Who cares what day it was? For that matter, the words you use can convey an entirely different meaning than what you are actually trying to communicate...

I'm *sure* this isn't making sense to anyone but me at this point, but I can accept that. My point is this: from the perspective of someone who is naturally attuned to the whole picture, what is the best way to suddenly shift your entire thought process onto minute details that would normally slip right past you? I realize the necessity in it, given the assignment... but how? I need to pick out (and correctly identify) every little shift of every little thing that I'm hearing? To include what the composer's intent was? Really? "There is an incomplete cadence at 'blah blah blah' time... which supports the composer's intention of ___ " I guess I'd better get started then.

whatever

why am i alive if i'm not free to live?
i must be alive for some sort of purpose...
my life doesn't make sense otherwise.
i've been through so much
i've survived so many things
i must be here for something...
after all, each morning that i wake up breathing, i am beating long odds
i defy the statistics, or at least my path has.
so, why? what is this 'purpose' that i've been spared for, when so many others have not been spared?
currently, my 'purpose' is to discover the purpose of my life... the reason i'm still here, when i probably should have died so many times over.
but, if your purpose in life is to find purpose, isn't that pointless? isn't that somewhat nullifying, since the concept just brings you full circle to right back to where you started?
a life spent questioning why there is life to be spent is what exactly?
possibly a waste of said life? shouldn't i be out living that life, rather than sitting around questioning why there is still a life to be lived?

what the hell am i going to do??

I might lose my job... which feels incredibly stressful, yet somehow I feel a vague sense of freedom washing over me at the same time. Now, I love my job, don't get me wrong... I don't want to lose it at all. However, continuing with my education while working where I do has proven to be difficult, if not altogether impossible...

Anyway, in the midst of all my panic, I've been trying to console myself with sentiments like, "Well, if I do lose my job, I'll finally have time to go in and take my compass test" and "This could be a great opportunity for me to start doing open mic nights somewhere!".

Naturally, thoughts like that lead me to the ultimate question, "What the hell do I want to do with the rest of my life?". This question remains unanswered for me. I can remember wanting to be a singer more that anything in the world when I was five. I even wrote a few songs, and sang them for my mother. However, somewhere along the way, I picked up the notion that this idea was "impractical" and I began to think that as a person who wasn't naturally in touch with their immediate surroundings, I might not make the best entertainer.

So, here's the thing... I'm not really good at anything. I'm not terribly passionate about most things, at least not enough to build a career on... Really, the only things I've ever been told I had any discernible talent at were writing and singing. Any other skills I have I worked my ass off to acquire, and they aren't profitable, or things I want to do. These are the type of skills one acquires while working at a plethora of fast food jobs. I don't understand how people manage to stay with jobs they don't like. I feel like a whiner for saying it, but going to a job I hate every day makes me feel dead inside (ie: my two year sentence at safeway) and more than a little suicidal. I honestly think I'd go postal if I stayed with something I hated for too long. I know what you're thinking... and you're right, I do have serious problems, but that's hardly the point at hand.

In childhood, I was pushed toward music and language arts, because those were the only areas in which I possessed any clear aptitude. I played the violin for several years, spent years in choir, taught younger students how to read, tutored (reading only), wrote short stories, played guitar for a while (I can rock rhythm, seriously), and I've been writing terrible songs for years... So how come I'm not working in one of those areas? I heard, for instance, that there are some kinds of writers who can work from home. In some of those instances, their work is entirely on their own time. That means they can take their kid to the damn doctor without starving due to lost hours... what a crazy concept, huh?

I suppose it probably has something to do with the little detour I took in terms of education. I guess attending high school probably opens some doors, huh? Oh well, someone had to feed me back then. Maybe I'll go for a bachelor's in arts when I get fired.

eagle

I've got your pictures...
they meant so much to me
I've got your pictures
the soft light illuminates your smile

You came on like a sweet dream
soft and swift, and I fell prey
didn't think I could feel...
I didn't think I could feel the things that I felt for you

I've got your pictures
captured frail sentiments
I've got your pictures
frozen moments past

I never thought I could feel the things that I felt for you
little did I know...
that you were only a dream
not what I thought you were, so...
when you took flight
I merely stood back to watch you soar

I've got your pictures
but it don't mean anything now
and when I see your smile
it numbs me to my core with total apathy

I've got your pictures
a little bit of your soul
but we never meant shit to you
though in it's time it took a toll
and the more I think about it, the more I agree

I deserved far better than the bullshit you gave
so fucking soar, as far and as fast as your broken wings will carry you
but don't you bother laying flowers on this barren grave

I've got your pictures
but we didn't mean anything
I've got your pictures
they're so hollow now
I've got your pictures
but you walked out of them

blocked.

So, I can make the words. I can sing the words too. So far, I haven't been willing to do that part in front of anyone, but I can get past that. However, I'm having a hard time putting music to the words. I'm not even sure what kind of music the words want, but I know they want to be finished.

repost (mine)

trust
evillinclinations posted on Aug 01, 2006 | views: 121 | Tags: relationships, rant

Originally written sometime in 2000.

this means everything or nothing, depending on how you choose to see it.

When I was new at relationships, I used to play games. It was interesting to see who would win. I would test all my limits, and press all your buttons. I'd push just to see how far I could make you go. Will you still love me the 5th time I do this to you? The 105th? Will you still forgive me then?

As I got older, I began to see the pain I inflicted on others. To trust someone is to give them some of your power. When we give someone a piece of our heart, they own a part of us. Now that I'm not so new at this, my outlook has changed. Now I know that the object of the "game" is not to see how hard you can push, or to see if some one will prove their worth to you by simply putting up with whatever you do, basically paying their dues to you...

Relationships should be based on mutual respect, not "Will you still trust me even if I deceive you" or "Will you believe my answer no matter how untrue it sounds", but "I respect you enough to care what you think" or "I want to show you that you can trust me because I want it to mean something when you say you know I am telling the truth". It is a realization that if we do not want our loved ones to question our motives, we will not behave questionably. As we get older, we learn to adjust our behaviors and maybe even our habits to accommodate the hearts of our loved ones and we know that they will return the courtesy. Then again, maybe it's just me......... END RANT

this is not for you

this is where I come to sort things out. Should you find something that might help you, great. If not, then at least a little of my tragic story might have been heard by someone somewhere. If not, that's ok too, because it's still a perfectly good sorting dish for me.
that said, on with the rant: I'm a mess. I'm aware of that. I'm not actually sure I would recognize someone who wasn't if I came across such a person; they seem as rare as the average mythical creature. Sure, I'm a lot more of a mess than some, that goes without saying. I've come a long, long way though, from where I started. But that doesn't matter to anyone at all. I don't get credit for the miles I've already come, all that matters to anyone is where I am now, what is happening now, right this very minute. Nevermind the fact that I've already put more miles onto my soul than many people do in their entire lives, that means nothing. It must be nice for you to start at zero. Meanwhile, I look all around me, surveying the rubble... trying to build a beautiful castle out of nothing but broken rock.