.
.
I hit it at about 10:00, give or take. I may have used the bathroom a time or two, can't be sure what was dream and what was real. I heard the doorbell at about 18:30? Something. Dinner had arrived! I tried to be cordial and show gratitude. Paying or not, be thankful, grateful, always. Having just awaken I was still going through waking twitches though. I can only hope I seemed pleasant. I ate in a hurry. Hungry! Yes. Then I crashed again. I slept until 1:30 or so. I have zero control of my sleep at this point, the medicine is doing it's thing. At least I have been having longer uptimes. I have been tending a few things.
I just put the dishes in a clean new soak. I will still have another load, or two, of dishes. All good. I really hope to get at least one of them done tonight. I don't feel too bad. With food coming in, some in my fridge, and a bit of caffeine in the form of coffee, I am not... doing too badly. But I have to get into town very soon. Tobacco is on it's last bits, while I have caffeine I am running low on milk (a requirement for me for coffee), the rest of the beans need ham, but most importantly I am running out of wet cat food. Oh the girls howl when they have only hard cat food. Sassy, the little one, becomes a little thug. She WILL claw, nip, harass, mewl, meow, and otherwise let me know she is NOT happy. Sam is good with it, for a short bit. That actually doesn't bug me though, don't care. Sassy doesn't always get what she wants I don't care how mad she gets. What bothers me is that, now that I have them used to a partial feed mix, I feel honor bound to continue it. My conscience, you see. That bugs me in sleep and wakefulness. That little detail is one of the things that makes me sweat marriage. How much more so a woman than a cat? YOUCH!
I have had some dentists tell me, from the x-rays, that I had extra molars coming back in. I know all of them where removed in the Navy, a requirement for submarine duty. I have had other dentists say there is nothing there, more recently. I wonder though, did they pull the extra molars at some time? I might have forgotten such a thing in one of my fogs. It seems, whatever the case, that something is trying to dig it's way out, again, behind my upper left set of teeth. It has torn the skin a bit and it sure feels like it did it from the inside. The area is sore. And I think I feel bone like material under there. Another another molar? Could be, or dentists have no idea what they are talking about on any given day either. Bah!
Hmm, well, a bit of time waking, then maybe dishes and another shower, and if I can rise to the level of action, a trip to town in a few hours. If I can get in there during the daylight, I can do many more things... if I can... maintain actionability. I may get in, hit two or three (or fewer) stores, and absolutely crash. That is why I don't like leaving home in these times. It is akin to leaving home with hard, occasional, unpredictable, diarrhea. You just don't know when, where, or how difficult or impossible to contain, an occurrence may be. Though I have never fallen asleep at the wheel I have had to push it to get home. Exhaustion can hit like a sledgehammer. Though, one trick that makes severity less likely is to wait until I am hungry and not eat while in town. Buying a meal on the way out of town, or getting food I can easily prepare when I get home, makes staying awake a lot easier too. Hunger is my friend. The promise of feeding that hunger is also an ally. So too is any kind of pain, so long as it is sharp, instantaneous, and controllable. I just don't go there, and would only do so for something vital. Three heavy rubber bands around my wrist would do nicely. But there would eventually be scarring. I need pretty heavy pain to get through the numbness. As I said, I don't, and won't, go there, save if the cause were life and death.
Later.
Tuesday, May 22, 2012
Monday, May 21, 2012
Who, me?
.
.
No, I'm having a ball. Sleep is still screwy, gnats are a pain, work is at a standstill, but life is good. Oh, real gnats. The other thing was more like a gnat of the mind and no more of a problem. A little testosterone and reason to put that bug to rest. I am hoping to hit town sometime today. I would like to buy a couple stacks of tuna, maybe a stack of canned chicken, and some other food. Enough for about three months on top of filling the pantry upstairs for a month. I hope to put it all in some kind of a rotation. Maybe canned veggies and fruits too. While I am at it I will look the store over a bit better. I am almost sure they will have freeze dried and dehydrated foods, though I could be wrong. Just a few cans of pre-mixed recipes, beef stroganoff and beef stew, for example, for really easy meals. It is not perfect but it is about as much as I can reasonably plan to be able to use.
Ah! I got the trash and recycling out, plus the kitty litter dealt with. I had been meaning to do that Friday. Which seems about perfect. If I had simply tried to do it Sunday I would have had it out by Tuesday. I do put in effort, I simply have been getting swamped and confused by sleep issues and hunger, though I often miss the target regardless. Planning to do things Friday gets it done by Monday morning. I will be skipping chili, for now. But another pan of beef, beans, and rice sans rice should be quite good. And rather than try to mix a batch of chili, while I am in town I may pick up a good small smoked ham to add to the rest of the beans, along with sour cream and milk. Yum! Sour cream takes a nominal bean or bean and ham soup and turns it into super yum. Milk just does a body good. Whole milk, three gallons a week now that spring is here. Like I said, my arteries are as clean as a whistle, I might as well enjoy that.
I wrote an article for a men's site. I have advised the owner of the site of my wish to publish it there. Oh, no money is involved. Nor is there fame. This is simply the beginning of something, perhaps. As I... begin exploring my notions regarding women, figuring out what has worked that is salvageable from the past and what is simply not functional given my new goals, and of course as I put those into practice, I would like to write about the experience. Win, lose, or draw I hope some other guy out there can decipher something and go on to a win. Marriage is a dirty job but somebody has to do it. Being willing isn't enough. Being able isn't enough. What is enough? I simply hope to find out, or learn something as I try to figure it out.
The next time I am in town at the right time I hope to see what is available with regards to sauteed cerveaux. With the freakiness about some issues, perhaps calf will not be available. Lamb or even pig might do. It is difficult to gauge how "protective" the government has gotten on some issues. If I can find a source, even if it isn't available immediately, I would be quite pleased. Oh, don't get all squeamish. Besides, if we are going to bother disturbing the life of an animal for it's edible parts, we owe it to the beast to use those parts fully. As well, I should much more easily find items by which to prepare sweetbreads. Uhrm, as soon as I come into my own a bit better. Just having a source will ease my mind on these things.
Have a great day.
.
No, I'm having a ball. Sleep is still screwy, gnats are a pain, work is at a standstill, but life is good. Oh, real gnats. The other thing was more like a gnat of the mind and no more of a problem. A little testosterone and reason to put that bug to rest. I am hoping to hit town sometime today. I would like to buy a couple stacks of tuna, maybe a stack of canned chicken, and some other food. Enough for about three months on top of filling the pantry upstairs for a month. I hope to put it all in some kind of a rotation. Maybe canned veggies and fruits too. While I am at it I will look the store over a bit better. I am almost sure they will have freeze dried and dehydrated foods, though I could be wrong. Just a few cans of pre-mixed recipes, beef stroganoff and beef stew, for example, for really easy meals. It is not perfect but it is about as much as I can reasonably plan to be able to use.
Ah! I got the trash and recycling out, plus the kitty litter dealt with. I had been meaning to do that Friday. Which seems about perfect. If I had simply tried to do it Sunday I would have had it out by Tuesday. I do put in effort, I simply have been getting swamped and confused by sleep issues and hunger, though I often miss the target regardless. Planning to do things Friday gets it done by Monday morning. I will be skipping chili, for now. But another pan of beef, beans, and rice sans rice should be quite good. And rather than try to mix a batch of chili, while I am in town I may pick up a good small smoked ham to add to the rest of the beans, along with sour cream and milk. Yum! Sour cream takes a nominal bean or bean and ham soup and turns it into super yum. Milk just does a body good. Whole milk, three gallons a week now that spring is here. Like I said, my arteries are as clean as a whistle, I might as well enjoy that.
I wrote an article for a men's site. I have advised the owner of the site of my wish to publish it there. Oh, no money is involved. Nor is there fame. This is simply the beginning of something, perhaps. As I... begin exploring my notions regarding women, figuring out what has worked that is salvageable from the past and what is simply not functional given my new goals, and of course as I put those into practice, I would like to write about the experience. Win, lose, or draw I hope some other guy out there can decipher something and go on to a win. Marriage is a dirty job but somebody has to do it. Being willing isn't enough. Being able isn't enough. What is enough? I simply hope to find out, or learn something as I try to figure it out.
The next time I am in town at the right time I hope to see what is available with regards to sauteed cerveaux. With the freakiness about some issues, perhaps calf will not be available. Lamb or even pig might do. It is difficult to gauge how "protective" the government has gotten on some issues. If I can find a source, even if it isn't available immediately, I would be quite pleased. Oh, don't get all squeamish. Besides, if we are going to bother disturbing the life of an animal for it's edible parts, we owe it to the beast to use those parts fully. As well, I should much more easily find items by which to prepare sweetbreads. Uhrm, as soon as I come into my own a bit better. Just having a source will ease my mind on these things.
Have a great day.
Sunday, May 20, 2012
Sleep, and food, and sleep!?
.
.
So, how have YOU been.
Finally being able to sleep helped. A few thumps from my ribs while sleeping, but pretty much good otherwise. Upon waking a couple of hour or so ago, I took a shower, then back to bed for a bit. I heated beef and beans, after stirring again. Still quite tasty. Unfortunately I may be headed right back to bed. It is not the life anyone hopes for. But I am pretty sure if I get through this a bit it will get better, for a while.
Hmm, it looks like I pissed off a whole peck of women. And I feel really guilty, about like when I run through a swarm of bugs while driving. The only difference is I don't need to scrub the gunk off my windows. About the women who put up with violence? They do it for love, they sacrifice. For the family, for their children, for their husband, and even for themselves in the long run. I do have some respect for that. The others? What about them, I went there.
I wonder if I might just be grumpy, in a foul mood. But, no. Not on this. I've dealt with the issue in too many aspects of my life, with the exception of my own relationships. As I said, I simply never felt the need to beat a woman, even when she seemed to want it. I've had enough of violence and women aren't up to what I can give, most men aren't. I don't need violence when forced to call bullshit on a woman or deal with her forms of childishness, and no woman has seen fit to try violence on me... more than once. None of my women, alas at times, feared me either. Angry as I get, howling at the moon, some of them just... giggled, or even swatted at my notions. Sad but true, once they knew me well. Women even enjoyed arguing with me, even the last if she didn't realize it. What most of them realized was that they were safe to say anything to me. If too, an ill spoken word would get a verbal retort that might well rip right through their body, mind, and right to their soul if they wanted to pursue something egregiously... like this discussion, and wouldn't let it go. Oh yes, I did hear a yelp, but I think now it wasn't just one. Lots of skulkers out in them thar bushes. What is it they say about hollowpoints? Through the bush, off the rock... nothing but mush. I love twofers, but hundredfers? Love 'em a million times more. Love is not linear, you know.
Two hours up, with a micro-nap in there, give or take. Bed time again, even so. Man those meds kick my butt in the beginning.
Good night, again.
.
So, how have YOU been.
Finally being able to sleep helped. A few thumps from my ribs while sleeping, but pretty much good otherwise. Upon waking a couple of hour or so ago, I took a shower, then back to bed for a bit. I heated beef and beans, after stirring again. Still quite tasty. Unfortunately I may be headed right back to bed. It is not the life anyone hopes for. But I am pretty sure if I get through this a bit it will get better, for a while.
Hmm, it looks like I pissed off a whole peck of women. And I feel really guilty, about like when I run through a swarm of bugs while driving. The only difference is I don't need to scrub the gunk off my windows. About the women who put up with violence? They do it for love, they sacrifice. For the family, for their children, for their husband, and even for themselves in the long run. I do have some respect for that. The others? What about them, I went there.
I wonder if I might just be grumpy, in a foul mood. But, no. Not on this. I've dealt with the issue in too many aspects of my life, with the exception of my own relationships. As I said, I simply never felt the need to beat a woman, even when she seemed to want it. I've had enough of violence and women aren't up to what I can give, most men aren't. I don't need violence when forced to call bullshit on a woman or deal with her forms of childishness, and no woman has seen fit to try violence on me... more than once. None of my women, alas at times, feared me either. Angry as I get, howling at the moon, some of them just... giggled, or even swatted at my notions. Sad but true, once they knew me well. Women even enjoyed arguing with me, even the last if she didn't realize it. What most of them realized was that they were safe to say anything to me. If too, an ill spoken word would get a verbal retort that might well rip right through their body, mind, and right to their soul if they wanted to pursue something egregiously... like this discussion, and wouldn't let it go. Oh yes, I did hear a yelp, but I think now it wasn't just one. Lots of skulkers out in them thar bushes. What is it they say about hollowpoints? Through the bush, off the rock... nothing but mush. I love twofers, but hundredfers? Love 'em a million times more. Love is not linear, you know.
Two hours up, with a micro-nap in there, give or take. Bed time again, even so. Man those meds kick my butt in the beginning.
Good night, again.
Ah, there is the problem.
.
.
I wondered why I had gone from total exhaustion to a more normal level of incapacity. As I went to take today's medicine, for Saturday of course, I thought just for a second, then checked. Ah, I missed medicine Saturday. No, no worries, I'll catch up. Technically they say if you missed, you are just supposed to move on. And sometimes I do that. Not this time. I am doing well enough, even with excessive sleep. I will be on the higher amount soon enough. And I really need to get the bp down. I won't check my bp every day, or even every other day actually. A few times a week I will get curious. It doesn't change that much or very fast.
Hmm, it's bed time again. At least I had a long run. It was good to be awake enough to actually have two meals, reasonably. Better yet I was able to cook enough food to see me through for a while with my last uptime. Even with food coming in I have to do my part. At least there is the food coming in though, as a hedge against complete deprivation. Though I seem to have survived that, too. It just cuts some of the edge off of things.
Good morning and good night.
.
I wondered why I had gone from total exhaustion to a more normal level of incapacity. As I went to take today's medicine, for Saturday of course, I thought just for a second, then checked. Ah, I missed medicine Saturday. No, no worries, I'll catch up. Technically they say if you missed, you are just supposed to move on. And sometimes I do that. Not this time. I am doing well enough, even with excessive sleep. I will be on the higher amount soon enough. And I really need to get the bp down. I won't check my bp every day, or even every other day actually. A few times a week I will get curious. It doesn't change that much or very fast.
Hmm, it's bed time again. At least I had a long run. It was good to be awake enough to actually have two meals, reasonably. Better yet I was able to cook enough food to see me through for a while with my last uptime. Even with food coming in I have to do my part. At least there is the food coming in though, as a hedge against complete deprivation. Though I seem to have survived that, too. It just cuts some of the edge off of things.
Good morning and good night.
Still awake, just unsure.
.
.
Oh, sure, I get comfortable and used to one set of circumstances to turn around and have to change my expectations and habits. Now sleep won't come. That part of it is fine, I really enjoy being awake. Though this wakefulness is more akin to... a middling thing. It is something between sleep and being fully awake. And my day schedule seems shot. I'll keep working on it.
I noted, myself, that the more I knew when going to college, the less I liked about what I was seeing. Though I never finished school, I have tinkered with computers for some number of years on the side. Electronics, computers, devices, communications... I started to realize that they are completely untenable regarding security, privacy, and such. Paranoid, I was called. No, not really.
This is just one of two men, recently, who have commented on this topic. These aren't grumpy old men in pajamas, railing at a world long lost. These are IT security people, and not the ones at the bottom of the chain. Actually, if you have someone who works in the field, talk to them some time. If you want to see a chill go down their spine, ask if they think government secrets, weapons systems, or nuclear plants are secure. The look on their face will tell you. Now, how much more secure are those things than your machine? Yeah... There is not much to do about it at this point. Just... offering some proof. Don't get all fussy, just understand.
I am still not sure what is going to happen, or when, regarding shopping, work, or anything. I'm in the gray zone. I can still point, laugh, grimace, try to sneak up on my kittehs (if not usually very successfully), or just... write. It's something.
Later, good night, or whatever.
.
Oh, sure, I get comfortable and used to one set of circumstances to turn around and have to change my expectations and habits. Now sleep won't come. That part of it is fine, I really enjoy being awake. Though this wakefulness is more akin to... a middling thing. It is something between sleep and being fully awake. And my day schedule seems shot. I'll keep working on it.
I noted, myself, that the more I knew when going to college, the less I liked about what I was seeing. Though I never finished school, I have tinkered with computers for some number of years on the side. Electronics, computers, devices, communications... I started to realize that they are completely untenable regarding security, privacy, and such. Paranoid, I was called. No, not really.
This is just one of two men, recently, who have commented on this topic. These aren't grumpy old men in pajamas, railing at a world long lost. These are IT security people, and not the ones at the bottom of the chain. Actually, if you have someone who works in the field, talk to them some time. If you want to see a chill go down their spine, ask if they think government secrets, weapons systems, or nuclear plants are secure. The look on their face will tell you. Now, how much more secure are those things than your machine? Yeah... There is not much to do about it at this point. Just... offering some proof. Don't get all fussy, just understand.
I am still not sure what is going to happen, or when, regarding shopping, work, or anything. I'm in the gray zone. I can still point, laugh, grimace, try to sneak up on my kittehs (if not usually very successfully), or just... write. It's something.
Later, good night, or whatever.
Sure, all sleep to no sleep.
.
.
Then again, a sensed need is a rather odd thing. I thought I "needed" sleep again. After that last post I went in to sleep. Nothing doing. I got up but realized... I am pretty much out of my main caffeine! Coffee? Well, yes. It's pretty old. I checked, no mold or such. I do buy it as whole beans, which helps. I no longer have an electric coffee grinder, just a hand powered one. It takes less than a minute to grind five dosers of coffee. I am not sure how tonight will work out. I would like to get to town for my typical caffeine. And I am on my last bit of tobacco, so that would be good to get whatever more of it I can. While I want to shop for more milk, with my containers still lent out the beans are in the cooking pot, which means I can't put three gallons in the larger space in my refrigerator at the moment. Hmm, maybe an extra gallon, for now. By the way, no one should ever allow a giant to take a 20 pound bag of beans and a 20 quart cooking pot while figuring out how many beans to make. Holy moly, I bet I have three to five pounds of beans cooked up! It sure looks good though!
Every time I grind coffee by hand I have to laugh. My last woman was SOOO into non-electric, thinking everyone should go hand powered, bicycle, and such. If she had the power she would have forced the issue. And she is a slave to coffee. Still she refuses to do this simple chore, to include not accepting such a device as a gift. It takes too long, dontcha know? Why do I use the hand grinder, being a pro-big footprint type of guy (really, I am)? Because I think the grid will go down, short or long term, at some point. Soda won't be available (if coffee might come to a short supply too, to a degree, I usually have enough on hand to ween myself a bit). Still, my grinder, as a tool, could very well provide a minor industry for me. The other thing is that I don't personally drink coffee enough myself to consider the expense of a good grinder. Now I really like women, loved a few more or less, but I won't put up with the insanity, at all, anymore. Go find a wet behind the ears pup. Just understand, everything that draws you to a man? Will be what you end up hating him the most for. Our strengths also mirror or hide our weaknesses. Oh, I keep all that in mind while I am exploring women. Women who I won't let get away with bullshit to me, not even in person. Less so.
Smoked almonds and white sweet coffee while I... put my life into some kind of order. While I am decent spatially, in that with a little practice and sometimes still regarding some sockets, I just know the size. And, I can look at a bolt and get pretty close to the right fit right away, if I don't hit it right on the first time. I can fit a screwdriver into either a philips or standard head without crossing my eyes or using two hands as well. What I can't do is pack a car or such, unless I go very slowly. Even then, I would rather toss it in and... use muscle to make the damned door close! My life is more like packing a car. Assuming health is good that is. I could, if I go slowly, do many things more correctly. But I realize I don't have the time. If I don't pack it in and go I might not end up going. Yeah, I know, this is where a woman could help. And help a bunch. So long as she was faster at it than I would have been. My last was good but slow... and quite obstinate. The one before her was middling, but much younger too, in her early 20's. She might have been able to learn speed. There were a few short term things in there, but the longer term one before those was fantastic. If she could have had kids, she would have caught me. She was a... well... perfect woman. And she wasn't a doormat, called me on my b.s., and sometimes with a very brilliantly disarming smile. Well, there was that. She handled me like a pro. Other than that we both cheated... She was the one I was... becoming honest with. It wasn't perfect, we both knew it, but we both... tried... forgave... even looked the other way sometimes. I know that isn't perfect, but it... was a good thing. Given the shape I was in.
Hmm, I might have some beef and beans in a bit. I am going to try and eat smaller portions of that. Oh, I love it. It's just, if I want to get anything done, I have to eat a little less. It's difficult to do with foods I love. Then again, that first meal was the first meal in several days. I used a whole teaspoon of my hot cayenne in that pan. And I nose it! Yum! I made it, to my tastes, just right, all around. If the kitchen were cleaner, or if I get to that before long, I would make tortillas. As is I will probably buy a few from the store. I can't find Momma-Mia brand out here, those were absolutely fantastic, inexpensive, and like home-made. I still haven't found perfect tortillas. I think the difference in altitude and humidity means some foods or recipes won't work out here. Either they can't be made the same way or aren't shelf stable enough in the different clime. Some of it is just regional limitations of companies too. I still haven't found tortillas that I believe are THE ones, or even get a passing grade. Then again, I have heard that preparing them out here is done a little differently, I haven't learned that trick. Some wife mentioned it and I forgot to follow up in exact detail...
A bit more goofing then I will consider whether to go to bed and hope to be up in time to be in town during the hours certain of my preferred shops will be open or whether I will just go in, get what I can to scratch a few days or a week out with guaranteed supplies. I would rather gamble short than gamble long and still miss out, for now, I think. Then again, it depends on my ability to stay awake long enough to shower, shave, dress, and then hit the road. I never really know, it's all guesswork and luck.
Later.
.
Then again, a sensed need is a rather odd thing. I thought I "needed" sleep again. After that last post I went in to sleep. Nothing doing. I got up but realized... I am pretty much out of my main caffeine! Coffee? Well, yes. It's pretty old. I checked, no mold or such. I do buy it as whole beans, which helps. I no longer have an electric coffee grinder, just a hand powered one. It takes less than a minute to grind five dosers of coffee. I am not sure how tonight will work out. I would like to get to town for my typical caffeine. And I am on my last bit of tobacco, so that would be good to get whatever more of it I can. While I want to shop for more milk, with my containers still lent out the beans are in the cooking pot, which means I can't put three gallons in the larger space in my refrigerator at the moment. Hmm, maybe an extra gallon, for now. By the way, no one should ever allow a giant to take a 20 pound bag of beans and a 20 quart cooking pot while figuring out how many beans to make. Holy moly, I bet I have three to five pounds of beans cooked up! It sure looks good though!
Every time I grind coffee by hand I have to laugh. My last woman was SOOO into non-electric, thinking everyone should go hand powered, bicycle, and such. If she had the power she would have forced the issue. And she is a slave to coffee. Still she refuses to do this simple chore, to include not accepting such a device as a gift. It takes too long, dontcha know? Why do I use the hand grinder, being a pro-big footprint type of guy (really, I am)? Because I think the grid will go down, short or long term, at some point. Soda won't be available (if coffee might come to a short supply too, to a degree, I usually have enough on hand to ween myself a bit). Still, my grinder, as a tool, could very well provide a minor industry for me. The other thing is that I don't personally drink coffee enough myself to consider the expense of a good grinder. Now I really like women, loved a few more or less, but I won't put up with the insanity, at all, anymore. Go find a wet behind the ears pup. Just understand, everything that draws you to a man? Will be what you end up hating him the most for. Our strengths also mirror or hide our weaknesses. Oh, I keep all that in mind while I am exploring women. Women who I won't let get away with bullshit to me, not even in person. Less so.
Smoked almonds and white sweet coffee while I... put my life into some kind of order. While I am decent spatially, in that with a little practice and sometimes still regarding some sockets, I just know the size. And, I can look at a bolt and get pretty close to the right fit right away, if I don't hit it right on the first time. I can fit a screwdriver into either a philips or standard head without crossing my eyes or using two hands as well. What I can't do is pack a car or such, unless I go very slowly. Even then, I would rather toss it in and... use muscle to make the damned door close! My life is more like packing a car. Assuming health is good that is. I could, if I go slowly, do many things more correctly. But I realize I don't have the time. If I don't pack it in and go I might not end up going. Yeah, I know, this is where a woman could help. And help a bunch. So long as she was faster at it than I would have been. My last was good but slow... and quite obstinate. The one before her was middling, but much younger too, in her early 20's. She might have been able to learn speed. There were a few short term things in there, but the longer term one before those was fantastic. If she could have had kids, she would have caught me. She was a... well... perfect woman. And she wasn't a doormat, called me on my b.s., and sometimes with a very brilliantly disarming smile. Well, there was that. She handled me like a pro. Other than that we both cheated... She was the one I was... becoming honest with. It wasn't perfect, we both knew it, but we both... tried... forgave... even looked the other way sometimes. I know that isn't perfect, but it... was a good thing. Given the shape I was in.
Hmm, I might have some beef and beans in a bit. I am going to try and eat smaller portions of that. Oh, I love it. It's just, if I want to get anything done, I have to eat a little less. It's difficult to do with foods I love. Then again, that first meal was the first meal in several days. I used a whole teaspoon of my hot cayenne in that pan. And I nose it! Yum! I made it, to my tastes, just right, all around. If the kitchen were cleaner, or if I get to that before long, I would make tortillas. As is I will probably buy a few from the store. I can't find Momma-Mia brand out here, those were absolutely fantastic, inexpensive, and like home-made. I still haven't found perfect tortillas. I think the difference in altitude and humidity means some foods or recipes won't work out here. Either they can't be made the same way or aren't shelf stable enough in the different clime. Some of it is just regional limitations of companies too. I still haven't found tortillas that I believe are THE ones, or even get a passing grade. Then again, I have heard that preparing them out here is done a little differently, I haven't learned that trick. Some wife mentioned it and I forgot to follow up in exact detail...
A bit more goofing then I will consider whether to go to bed and hope to be up in time to be in town during the hours certain of my preferred shops will be open or whether I will just go in, get what I can to scratch a few days or a week out with guaranteed supplies. I would rather gamble short than gamble long and still miss out, for now, I think. Then again, it depends on my ability to stay awake long enough to shower, shave, dress, and then hit the road. I never really know, it's all guesswork and luck.
Later.
Saturday, May 19, 2012
You know?
.
.
After chronic shortages in the last decade of my life, whether of tobacco, milk, food, or just about anything perishable or consumable, my life has really improved. Even this winter became somewhat problematic until I simply put my foot down. While I simply can't buy enough of everything to not run out, I can make it so that I have some extra, extra, on hand, so that when I get low I have enough of a hedge to see me to enough health that I have the time to get the goods. And, really, that has been working exceedingly well. Along with that, though, is the fact that I have not been getting as sick for as long. Sure, there were times this winter that seemed to stretch forever. Even then, from time to time, I could steal out of my home.
I am running low on caffeine and tobacco. It is time to get in to the stores. With food made, if after a short starvation mode, I have the energy reserves to go get what I need. The thing is, if any one thing breaks down, the rest will break down very quickly as well. I can't go without certain things for long without the whole system crashing. And, when it crashes, I can stay down for long periods. Now, that is going to happen anyway. But if you add them together life gets seriously rough. Life has gotten a lot better out here. I just need to learn how to weather the winters a bit better. This fall I am hoping to get the sun lamp set up, somewhere comfortable. Perhaps spend an hour reading, or practicing the bead work, or whatever works to keep me settled enough to soak in the fake but chemically functional sun.
My last lady friend called today. Indeed, she insisted, she is not dead. *bugle sounds* She's too mean to die, anyway. Oh, she can be just a dandy lady, then turn around and have a hissy fit or tantrum as good as even me! I like to think she has them more often though. And some aspects she has going are better then some of mine. She is definitely a fussy unhappy woman when she can find a way to be. She is working a second job this summer. She is working to pay off bills, for which she gets three stars. If she reaches her goal without increasing debt, she gets five stars. And if she pays off two cards? I dunno. I always wanted to help her, it will be in two years or more, if I can afford it, I will send a small but big little something. A lot of if's. She hasn't been canoeing this year yet. She'll get too it before long, she has a good group of friends for that, finally. Oh, don't even go there. If I did anything it was to prod her to finally go out and find friends. I even may have been the one to get her back in the canoe, something she loved, if my size ultimately made the thing not a happy thing for her. We went swimming far to often for her tastes. I helped finance some things. I encouraged her. Before me she honest to God had no friends. None that she liked? Yeah, pretty much. It is nice to watch her blossom. From afar.
A trip to town, sometime this afternoon or later. Caffeine and whatever I can find for tobacco. The best stores for these things probably aren't open. If I can get just enough to tide me over until I can be in town at the right times though. I hate going short but it beats going out. I have food ready, easy to load up with, and for a decent amount of time. I do need milk and sour cream. I am getting better about keeping things on hand, doing well enough that for the most, but it's still a slog. The rest of my life will be a hard slog, nothing can be taken for granted, nothing will be easy, and it is only going to get worse, one way or another. When one of those songs back in previous posts discusses wishing to dream again, it isn't about dreams at night, it is about dreams of a future. Those, for me, are gone. I don't look too closely, but I know only nightmares remain.
Good day.
.
After chronic shortages in the last decade of my life, whether of tobacco, milk, food, or just about anything perishable or consumable, my life has really improved. Even this winter became somewhat problematic until I simply put my foot down. While I simply can't buy enough of everything to not run out, I can make it so that I have some extra, extra, on hand, so that when I get low I have enough of a hedge to see me to enough health that I have the time to get the goods. And, really, that has been working exceedingly well. Along with that, though, is the fact that I have not been getting as sick for as long. Sure, there were times this winter that seemed to stretch forever. Even then, from time to time, I could steal out of my home.
I am running low on caffeine and tobacco. It is time to get in to the stores. With food made, if after a short starvation mode, I have the energy reserves to go get what I need. The thing is, if any one thing breaks down, the rest will break down very quickly as well. I can't go without certain things for long without the whole system crashing. And, when it crashes, I can stay down for long periods. Now, that is going to happen anyway. But if you add them together life gets seriously rough. Life has gotten a lot better out here. I just need to learn how to weather the winters a bit better. This fall I am hoping to get the sun lamp set up, somewhere comfortable. Perhaps spend an hour reading, or practicing the bead work, or whatever works to keep me settled enough to soak in the fake but chemically functional sun.
My last lady friend called today. Indeed, she insisted, she is not dead. *bugle sounds* She's too mean to die, anyway. Oh, she can be just a dandy lady, then turn around and have a hissy fit or tantrum as good as even me! I like to think she has them more often though. And some aspects she has going are better then some of mine. She is definitely a fussy unhappy woman when she can find a way to be. She is working a second job this summer. She is working to pay off bills, for which she gets three stars. If she reaches her goal without increasing debt, she gets five stars. And if she pays off two cards? I dunno. I always wanted to help her, it will be in two years or more, if I can afford it, I will send a small but big little something. A lot of if's. She hasn't been canoeing this year yet. She'll get too it before long, she has a good group of friends for that, finally. Oh, don't even go there. If I did anything it was to prod her to finally go out and find friends. I even may have been the one to get her back in the canoe, something she loved, if my size ultimately made the thing not a happy thing for her. We went swimming far to often for her tastes. I helped finance some things. I encouraged her. Before me she honest to God had no friends. None that she liked? Yeah, pretty much. It is nice to watch her blossom. From afar.
A trip to town, sometime this afternoon or later. Caffeine and whatever I can find for tobacco. The best stores for these things probably aren't open. If I can get just enough to tide me over until I can be in town at the right times though. I hate going short but it beats going out. I have food ready, easy to load up with, and for a decent amount of time. I do need milk and sour cream. I am getting better about keeping things on hand, doing well enough that for the most, but it's still a slog. The rest of my life will be a hard slog, nothing can be taken for granted, nothing will be easy, and it is only going to get worse, one way or another. When one of those songs back in previous posts discusses wishing to dream again, it isn't about dreams at night, it is about dreams of a future. Those, for me, are gone. I don't look too closely, but I know only nightmares remain.
Good day.
Beef, beans, and rice!
.
.
With shredded cheese, chopped onion, garlic, enough hot stuff to clear my sinuses quite nicely. Half beef, half beans, no rice. Yeah, okay, I admit it. I almost hate rice, white rice for sure. Enriched or not, white rice is pretty boring. Brown rice is good but takes a pot of it's own and a good long time to cook. I had the beans going and didn't want to try to mess with rice on top of it. Two decent bowls of the gooey goodness and life is set to rights again.
The only real problem I have is, being well fed, I am about to lose consciousness. Oh, but my belly is thanking me. I am sure it will begin playing a tune shortly. I will be ignorantly blissful for the first movement. The later movements will see me on my feet. Heading to were music is more joyfully appreciated. While beans don't really give me problems, eating a large meal after days of hunger will. All good. There is nothing quite so good as having a good bm after days of nothing. It gets everything sort of going back on the right track.
It is a perfect day to work. Depending on how long I sleep, if the hole isn't an absolute mud pit, I am hoping to get out when I wake. After working, another bowl of goo, then probably another nap. One thing I have noted from past difficulties is that, as I begin eating again, each meal hits me like a sludge hammer, driving me back into full on exhaustion. It will do this for some period of time, until I adjust to eating again. I have to think snakes know this, alligators and crocodiles too. Hmm, some might even think I AM a snake? Only mice. :p
Have a great day.
.
With shredded cheese, chopped onion, garlic, enough hot stuff to clear my sinuses quite nicely. Half beef, half beans, no rice. Yeah, okay, I admit it. I almost hate rice, white rice for sure. Enriched or not, white rice is pretty boring. Brown rice is good but takes a pot of it's own and a good long time to cook. I had the beans going and didn't want to try to mess with rice on top of it. Two decent bowls of the gooey goodness and life is set to rights again.
The only real problem I have is, being well fed, I am about to lose consciousness. Oh, but my belly is thanking me. I am sure it will begin playing a tune shortly. I will be ignorantly blissful for the first movement. The later movements will see me on my feet. Heading to were music is more joyfully appreciated. While beans don't really give me problems, eating a large meal after days of hunger will. All good. There is nothing quite so good as having a good bm after days of nothing. It gets everything sort of going back on the right track.
It is a perfect day to work. Depending on how long I sleep, if the hole isn't an absolute mud pit, I am hoping to get out when I wake. After working, another bowl of goo, then probably another nap. One thing I have noted from past difficulties is that, as I begin eating again, each meal hits me like a sludge hammer, driving me back into full on exhaustion. It will do this for some period of time, until I adjust to eating again. I have to think snakes know this, alligators and crocodiles too. Hmm, some might even think I AM a snake? Only mice. :p
Have a great day.
I heard a yelp clear from here.
.
.
Man was I hungry. It has been since... Wednesday evening? Yes, I think so. That is a lot of hunger. I wondered why my stomach felt like it was eating itself. No, the cats have been being fed. Without a constant time by which to measure, I think they may have actually been getting too much food. They can trick me by begging like they haven't had food just an hour ago, when I am really tired. Still, I would rather err on over feeding then under feeding. They don't have a choice to be here, sort of.
I ate four bagels with cream cheese. I also put a pot of beans to soak, soaked them, and am cooking them now. So far I haven't had to sleep since 1:00, it is now 8:00. That is the longest uptime I have had in a while now. When that finishes I may cook some hamburger, with a half dozen or more spices, add some beans, grate some cheese, and have a real meal. Meatless meals are not real meals, they only stall the hunger and only slightly. A little time bought, sometimes, is enough. I have gone days, even weeks, without food. It's not pretty. Starting up the bowels again is a brutal process.
Yep, I heard someone whining and moaning out there, in the bushes. Perhaps I am just a bit too suspicious, though I think a shot in the dark sometimes finds the skulking beast just the same. Oh, don't take it personally, or... no more personally than it should be. I think you more than had that coming.
Hmm, off to some other task. Enough here for now.
.
Man was I hungry. It has been since... Wednesday evening? Yes, I think so. That is a lot of hunger. I wondered why my stomach felt like it was eating itself. No, the cats have been being fed. Without a constant time by which to measure, I think they may have actually been getting too much food. They can trick me by begging like they haven't had food just an hour ago, when I am really tired. Still, I would rather err on over feeding then under feeding. They don't have a choice to be here, sort of.
I ate four bagels with cream cheese. I also put a pot of beans to soak, soaked them, and am cooking them now. So far I haven't had to sleep since 1:00, it is now 8:00. That is the longest uptime I have had in a while now. When that finishes I may cook some hamburger, with a half dozen or more spices, add some beans, grate some cheese, and have a real meal. Meatless meals are not real meals, they only stall the hunger and only slightly. A little time bought, sometimes, is enough. I have gone days, even weeks, without food. It's not pretty. Starting up the bowels again is a brutal process.
Yep, I heard someone whining and moaning out there, in the bushes. Perhaps I am just a bit too suspicious, though I think a shot in the dark sometimes finds the skulking beast just the same. Oh, don't take it personally, or... no more personally than it should be. I think you more than had that coming.
Hmm, off to some other task. Enough here for now.
After clearing the baffles, it's time to fire torpedoes.
.
.
The other day I read about a violent man. A man who beat and frightened his wife. Enough similarities existed, and being one of the first things I read in the morning, or at least from one of my many awakenings, I had to do some checks. I did so. I am quite satisfied that I do not fit the stated profile. Of course, given some time and thought, I have some... questions.
When a woman tells me she is equal to men, then tells me she was the victim of abuse as an adult, I have to look twice. Did one woman say one thing and another stand where the other woman had been standing and the second woman say the second thing? You can't be an equal abuse victim, unless you choose to be. I have seen this with women through my life. My mother was a prime example. And, knowing my mother as I do, I also know she starts fights more often than not, adding alcohol only accelerates the fire starting thing she has going. More, when women stay in such situations, one has to ask... at what point does being a victim, setting aside the whole equality notion for a bit, become lost? At some point, after the first perhaps, after the second very possibly, but after the third or fifth or tenth attack... the victim becomes a party to the problem, an unindicted co-conspirator, or even an active participant if she wasn't to start with! I learned, working as a bouncer, that women being beaten often would defend their attacker. For my part, I would question the woman. If this was their "thing", then so be it, but not in my bar. They would both be escorted out where they could continue their kink wherever else they could get away with it. Of the many instances, there were only two times a woman asked for help. And I did help, so does much of the world. But she had to seek help in the face of the it. We all know the score. I feel solid in that I never stopped asking, hoping, not about what I usually saw.
I will claim that I have a greater claim to victimhood than almost any women in the West. I was forced into public schools, where a brute-enforced pecking order was maintained. One that I would not accept, could not accept. Some might fault me for that, I tell them to piss off. I did not give up my lunch money, milk, cookies, place in line, or anything else just because some one was larger, had rich or powerful parents, or had friends to back him up. And, initially, I was beat half to death for it. In the second grade, since none could actually beat me up, while I was walking past a swing (the really tall, heavy wood seat type), I got smashed in the side by one of those seats, bruising four ribs. In the SECOND GRADE! I learned how to fight back, but even that was not enough, being an outsider most of my life. Just defending yourself in schools based on allowances for rich kids, powerful parents, and an unwillingness by schools to deal with bullies would land me in more trouble than the bully. So I learned further how to set the stage for the absolute crushing of the bully on all fronts, physical, social, political. To defeat what was before me in such a way that none could question the validity of my actions. Even then the best I got was no punishment. The bully never was punished, or no more so than I was. At least I created some balance, and learned to win. I refused, and still do, to be a victim. Half dead or more, with sleep crushing me, I will not bend a knee to violence, or social status, or other bullshit. I may lose, and have lost, but I didn't just give the fuck up.
By the time I was a freshmen I was burned out. After beating up a junior, for the second time but this time with a knock out punch so ending the thing, one of his friends had let it be known he was next. I stayed long in the locker room that day, after football practice. I started crying. One of my coaches, a giant himself, caught me. He knew the score. He asked if I was afraid of the guy starting the new trouble. I shocked him a bit by laughing right at him through my tears. No, I suggested, I will kick his ass. I believe that is a direct quote. He is weaker than his friend and I am a bit put out with it all at this point. Oh, he asked, almost flippant at first, possibly still shocked by my daring to laugh at him, the notion he presented, both, and possibly that I was cussing, then what is the problem. I told him I was tired of fighting. I was utterly spent trying to simply live my life free of bullshit. He... one way or another... resolved the other boy's issue. Burned out from fighting in my early teens? Think about it, no gloves, no rules, sometimes taking groups of boys at a time, having to figure out how to both win and not be harshly punished, and sometimes still having to fight time after time after time? Yeah. Still, I refuse to claim victimhood. REFUSE. I fucking won, and rightly. And I didn't go about it by shooting up a school or some other lamenut thing. I fucking handled it, 'kay?
No, women have a long way to go. Either they have to choose to be victims OR equals. And if they choose that they are potential victims, then they have to choose to take it or fight it. Fighting it physically won't work, but there are many out there who would lend you a hand, even at great personal risk. If a woman considers herself as an equal then she cannot be a victim. Some equality sucks, innit? Whining about it will grant zero empathy here, unless you allow for inequality and understand that if you took it for ten years you had become party to it. Then I might be able to work with you, a bit. My empathy is spared for those who are in a situation where they have zero choices. Adult American women do NOT COUNT! If you want to claim to be an equal, and put up your dukes to prove it, prepare to be a "victim", one of your own choosing. Healthy pride, a reasonable understanding of reality, and some other things must reign for "problems" to be avoided, something I don't see as a trait common in American women. I only probably never beat even the gnarliest of my angry spitfire women, myself, because having fought often, I knew that typical women are no threat to me, not equal, at all. Spankings, like for naughty children, when a woman becomes physically aggressive, not a beating like they seem to want. That is equality put into practice. Well, and it was odd how well a spanking, or the threat of one, caused a woman to rethink the whole situation. Go cry me a river. Bah!
Here, and after my last article on the topic, D.C. was probably questioning some... things about me. Never fear, my friend. Captain Obvious has things well in hand. Just locking and loading, now rocking and rolling. I won't be backed into a corner by a widow or her mite, if she is wrong. Double Bah! Hmm, I wonder how long until some equal woman decides that trying to get me banned for this post is the only way she can be equal, since her retorts will be seen as being as weak as she and her notions are?
.
The other day I read about a violent man. A man who beat and frightened his wife. Enough similarities existed, and being one of the first things I read in the morning, or at least from one of my many awakenings, I had to do some checks. I did so. I am quite satisfied that I do not fit the stated profile. Of course, given some time and thought, I have some... questions.
When a woman tells me she is equal to men, then tells me she was the victim of abuse as an adult, I have to look twice. Did one woman say one thing and another stand where the other woman had been standing and the second woman say the second thing? You can't be an equal abuse victim, unless you choose to be. I have seen this with women through my life. My mother was a prime example. And, knowing my mother as I do, I also know she starts fights more often than not, adding alcohol only accelerates the fire starting thing she has going. More, when women stay in such situations, one has to ask... at what point does being a victim, setting aside the whole equality notion for a bit, become lost? At some point, after the first perhaps, after the second very possibly, but after the third or fifth or tenth attack... the victim becomes a party to the problem, an unindicted co-conspirator, or even an active participant if she wasn't to start with! I learned, working as a bouncer, that women being beaten often would defend their attacker. For my part, I would question the woman. If this was their "thing", then so be it, but not in my bar. They would both be escorted out where they could continue their kink wherever else they could get away with it. Of the many instances, there were only two times a woman asked for help. And I did help, so does much of the world. But she had to seek help in the face of the it. We all know the score. I feel solid in that I never stopped asking, hoping, not about what I usually saw.
I will claim that I have a greater claim to victimhood than almost any women in the West. I was forced into public schools, where a brute-enforced pecking order was maintained. One that I would not accept, could not accept. Some might fault me for that, I tell them to piss off. I did not give up my lunch money, milk, cookies, place in line, or anything else just because some one was larger, had rich or powerful parents, or had friends to back him up. And, initially, I was beat half to death for it. In the second grade, since none could actually beat me up, while I was walking past a swing (the really tall, heavy wood seat type), I got smashed in the side by one of those seats, bruising four ribs. In the SECOND GRADE! I learned how to fight back, but even that was not enough, being an outsider most of my life. Just defending yourself in schools based on allowances for rich kids, powerful parents, and an unwillingness by schools to deal with bullies would land me in more trouble than the bully. So I learned further how to set the stage for the absolute crushing of the bully on all fronts, physical, social, political. To defeat what was before me in such a way that none could question the validity of my actions. Even then the best I got was no punishment. The bully never was punished, or no more so than I was. At least I created some balance, and learned to win. I refused, and still do, to be a victim. Half dead or more, with sleep crushing me, I will not bend a knee to violence, or social status, or other bullshit. I may lose, and have lost, but I didn't just give the fuck up.
By the time I was a freshmen I was burned out. After beating up a junior, for the second time but this time with a knock out punch so ending the thing, one of his friends had let it be known he was next. I stayed long in the locker room that day, after football practice. I started crying. One of my coaches, a giant himself, caught me. He knew the score. He asked if I was afraid of the guy starting the new trouble. I shocked him a bit by laughing right at him through my tears. No, I suggested, I will kick his ass. I believe that is a direct quote. He is weaker than his friend and I am a bit put out with it all at this point. Oh, he asked, almost flippant at first, possibly still shocked by my daring to laugh at him, the notion he presented, both, and possibly that I was cussing, then what is the problem. I told him I was tired of fighting. I was utterly spent trying to simply live my life free of bullshit. He... one way or another... resolved the other boy's issue. Burned out from fighting in my early teens? Think about it, no gloves, no rules, sometimes taking groups of boys at a time, having to figure out how to both win and not be harshly punished, and sometimes still having to fight time after time after time? Yeah. Still, I refuse to claim victimhood. REFUSE. I fucking won, and rightly. And I didn't go about it by shooting up a school or some other lamenut thing. I fucking handled it, 'kay?
No, women have a long way to go. Either they have to choose to be victims OR equals. And if they choose that they are potential victims, then they have to choose to take it or fight it. Fighting it physically won't work, but there are many out there who would lend you a hand, even at great personal risk. If a woman considers herself as an equal then she cannot be a victim. Some equality sucks, innit? Whining about it will grant zero empathy here, unless you allow for inequality and understand that if you took it for ten years you had become party to it. Then I might be able to work with you, a bit. My empathy is spared for those who are in a situation where they have zero choices. Adult American women do NOT COUNT! If you want to claim to be an equal, and put up your dukes to prove it, prepare to be a "victim", one of your own choosing. Healthy pride, a reasonable understanding of reality, and some other things must reign for "problems" to be avoided, something I don't see as a trait common in American women. I only probably never beat even the gnarliest of my angry spitfire women, myself, because having fought often, I knew that typical women are no threat to me, not equal, at all. Spankings, like for naughty children, when a woman becomes physically aggressive, not a beating like they seem to want. That is equality put into practice. Well, and it was odd how well a spanking, or the threat of one, caused a woman to rethink the whole situation. Go cry me a river. Bah!
Here, and after my last article on the topic, D.C. was probably questioning some... things about me. Never fear, my friend. Captain Obvious has things well in hand. Just locking and loading, now rocking and rolling. I won't be backed into a corner by a widow or her mite, if she is wrong. Double Bah! Hmm, I wonder how long until some equal woman decides that trying to get me banned for this post is the only way she can be equal, since her retorts will be seen as being as weak as she and her notions are?
Friday, May 18, 2012
Pretty brutal.
.
.
Sleep is absolutely taking over my life. I can sleep 4 hours here, 10 hours there, 6 next, and only get a few hours of up time. Oh, I wrestle it. I push and shove. I might wrangle another hour, 2, or even 3 hours of uptimes on rare occasions, but I just hit it that much harder. I don't know if I really sleep any longer one way or the other though. It has mostly been happening since this storm front came in. Though with medicine started just a week ago, I am adding that into the equation. Actually, I think the medicine has been allowing me to account for the sleep, or... be more aware that I am sleeping, able to track times and such a bit better. Though it very likely is playing a dual role. Beside allowing me to account for time, it may well be adding to the need for sleep. Hmm, or more, what the medicine is doing to my body, lowering the bp is most likely the sleep trigger regarding medicine. Other medicines I have taken in life are directly related to extra sleep. There is a difference. Yeah, blathering without scientific proof. But... I still think that I have it about right.
I need to put together some food that will last a bit. I have a big pile of hamburger thawed. I just need to make beans. A big helping of chili and a side bowl of beans and hamburger would allow for some (if slight) variety, would last me a week or more, and is something I enjoy. More so with the weather so cool (for as long as that lasts). It's a matter of staying up long enough to get the cooking done and being able enough to cook it in a timely fashion. I need to set a pot of beans to soak this time, then cook them probably the next time I am awake. Youch but this is getting troublesome. The body hurts a bit when sleep is this demanding.
As for work or play? I am setting that off until I can definitely stay up more than a few hours at a time. As is I merely get warmed up and ready to do something before collapsing into a sleep requiring stupor. So be it, for now. I may run out of aspirin for my medicinal regimen, but that is a minor concern in the short term. Lots of things will fail if I don't... pay attention though. And I may not have a choice. At least this time I am fully aware that I am falling behind. Sometimes, often, I just go from doing good to... weeks or months later realizing I just lost a chunk of my life to the fog of time. Yeah, I prefer this way. Medicine can certainly be a nearly perfect double edged sword. No worries, I keep my codpiece handy... the rest can go hang. :p
Well, have a good life out there. I'm enjoying mine, sun or shine, sleep or wakefulness, grumpiness, joy, tears, and the twirl of it all, mostly. And... it is sort of funny... if you think about it. *zzz* Huh? Never mind.
.
Sleep is absolutely taking over my life. I can sleep 4 hours here, 10 hours there, 6 next, and only get a few hours of up time. Oh, I wrestle it. I push and shove. I might wrangle another hour, 2, or even 3 hours of uptimes on rare occasions, but I just hit it that much harder. I don't know if I really sleep any longer one way or the other though. It has mostly been happening since this storm front came in. Though with medicine started just a week ago, I am adding that into the equation. Actually, I think the medicine has been allowing me to account for the sleep, or... be more aware that I am sleeping, able to track times and such a bit better. Though it very likely is playing a dual role. Beside allowing me to account for time, it may well be adding to the need for sleep. Hmm, or more, what the medicine is doing to my body, lowering the bp is most likely the sleep trigger regarding medicine. Other medicines I have taken in life are directly related to extra sleep. There is a difference. Yeah, blathering without scientific proof. But... I still think that I have it about right.
I need to put together some food that will last a bit. I have a big pile of hamburger thawed. I just need to make beans. A big helping of chili and a side bowl of beans and hamburger would allow for some (if slight) variety, would last me a week or more, and is something I enjoy. More so with the weather so cool (for as long as that lasts). It's a matter of staying up long enough to get the cooking done and being able enough to cook it in a timely fashion. I need to set a pot of beans to soak this time, then cook them probably the next time I am awake. Youch but this is getting troublesome. The body hurts a bit when sleep is this demanding.
As for work or play? I am setting that off until I can definitely stay up more than a few hours at a time. As is I merely get warmed up and ready to do something before collapsing into a sleep requiring stupor. So be it, for now. I may run out of aspirin for my medicinal regimen, but that is a minor concern in the short term. Lots of things will fail if I don't... pay attention though. And I may not have a choice. At least this time I am fully aware that I am falling behind. Sometimes, often, I just go from doing good to... weeks or months later realizing I just lost a chunk of my life to the fog of time. Yeah, I prefer this way. Medicine can certainly be a nearly perfect double edged sword. No worries, I keep my codpiece handy... the rest can go hang. :p
Well, have a good life out there. I'm enjoying mine, sun or shine, sleep or wakefulness, grumpiness, joy, tears, and the twirl of it all, mostly. And... it is sort of funny... if you think about it. *zzz* Huh? Never mind.
Cats, thunderstorms, and life.
.
.
I know this isn't the first time Sassy, the youngest of my cats, has heard thunder. But perhaps there was other noise to distract her. Today, however, she was mightily afraid. She crowded around poppo and mewled, wanting me to make it all go away. A bit of a caress, a few itches behind the ears, and she would be off, brave enough to handle the intrusive noise again. Every once in a while she returns to get some more bravery. Sam, the eldest of my cats, just... notices the noise, perhaps looks. She has the experience of an elder cat dame. Still, with the rain comes chill. She wants poppo as a woman might want a fleece throw. Warmth! And her feet are soooo cold. Reminds me of some parts of women, on cold nights, on the back, come to think of it. The parts that can turn my stomach so fast women have confused me with Flash Gordon for it.
Shoveling, however, is probably off for today. It would be a mess to work out there after this much rain, most likely. The good thing is it will soak in, softening the soil for when I can get to it. It does add to the weight for shoveling though too. Life is about tradeoffs, ones we don't always get to choose. I am not sure, in any case, if I can get to much today. I am feeling good, but noon can't come soon enough. Exhaustion is haunting all but, perhaps, the first hour or two after I wake. Even then I am in my normal morning mode, meaning I am of little use.
At least it is favorable sleeping weather. There definitely is that. My guess is that when summer finally cranks over, sleep will become a rare and wonderful thing. Heat is a brutal stealer of sleep. I went through a minor oddity this morning. Do you remember the degaussing button on older monitors? Remember how the screen would shake? Yeah, well my eyes did that. It's not funny. Well, actually it WAS funny, though the doctors may not agree. I'm not sure what is up with that. So long as it doesn't continue I suppose I am fine. The body just does weird things once in a while, innit?
Later.
.
I know this isn't the first time Sassy, the youngest of my cats, has heard thunder. But perhaps there was other noise to distract her. Today, however, she was mightily afraid. She crowded around poppo and mewled, wanting me to make it all go away. A bit of a caress, a few itches behind the ears, and she would be off, brave enough to handle the intrusive noise again. Every once in a while she returns to get some more bravery. Sam, the eldest of my cats, just... notices the noise, perhaps looks. She has the experience of an elder cat dame. Still, with the rain comes chill. She wants poppo as a woman might want a fleece throw. Warmth! And her feet are soooo cold. Reminds me of some parts of women, on cold nights, on the back, come to think of it. The parts that can turn my stomach so fast women have confused me with Flash Gordon for it.
Shoveling, however, is probably off for today. It would be a mess to work out there after this much rain, most likely. The good thing is it will soak in, softening the soil for when I can get to it. It does add to the weight for shoveling though too. Life is about tradeoffs, ones we don't always get to choose. I am not sure, in any case, if I can get to much today. I am feeling good, but noon can't come soon enough. Exhaustion is haunting all but, perhaps, the first hour or two after I wake. Even then I am in my normal morning mode, meaning I am of little use.
At least it is favorable sleeping weather. There definitely is that. My guess is that when summer finally cranks over, sleep will become a rare and wonderful thing. Heat is a brutal stealer of sleep. I went through a minor oddity this morning. Do you remember the degaussing button on older monitors? Remember how the screen would shake? Yeah, well my eyes did that. It's not funny. Well, actually it WAS funny, though the doctors may not agree. I'm not sure what is up with that. So long as it doesn't continue I suppose I am fine. The body just does weird things once in a while, innit?
Later.
Well, that wasn't too bad.
.
.
This last nap was closer to a real nap. Still, in the last 36 hours or so I have racked up 22 hours of sleep time. While not a record, it is definitely a high in the last few years. I have also been a bit sentimental, sad. Oh, no real worries, most of the time I chuckle at my tearful moments... a bit, later on. Gives me a little something to tease myself regarding. Perhaps it is the high start dosage for the medicine. And yet I probably will keep the medicine going, if I can, and just try to get through it. I know I can handle the medicine, at some point, and I know when to stop taking more. There is a sweet spot and I am willing to try to get to it, at some speed. Damn the pillow torpedoes, full speed ahead.
Two dreams this time, and I remember them. Odd little dreams. The second one, of course, would be about a harem. I had six wives and was negotiating for another. Hey, it was merely a dream. It was a relatively pleasant dream, all said and done, though. I doubt if reality could match it. The other was sort of a creepy story where I entered a small town, rented what I thought would be my own room but ended up sharing it, the people's eyes glowed yellowish green at night (mine glowed with faint red slashes), and became a part of the town but as a complete outsider too. Nothing really dark, just... weird things. Odd things on the edge of life, the periphery of sight, sound, and understandings. Something just off, and it wasn't me, or... my strangeness I was comfortable with anyway. Entertaining all. I give the producer and actors a solid B+ or better.
Perhaps, with this nap, I might be still on for days. If I can stay up until noon I still plan on trying to take a short nap, then get to work in the afternoon. My body, other than being so tired, is back to specs to do pick and shovel work. And I really need to get some other things done. I have been changing the dish water a couple times a day, so that isn't too bad. I will probably have two loads to wash, atm, when I get to it. And I could do a load or two of laundry. Though really, the room and the digging are my primary goals. I just have to... keep... keep the target in sight for when I can get to it.
Have a good morning.
.
This last nap was closer to a real nap. Still, in the last 36 hours or so I have racked up 22 hours of sleep time. While not a record, it is definitely a high in the last few years. I have also been a bit sentimental, sad. Oh, no real worries, most of the time I chuckle at my tearful moments... a bit, later on. Gives me a little something to tease myself regarding. Perhaps it is the high start dosage for the medicine. And yet I probably will keep the medicine going, if I can, and just try to get through it. I know I can handle the medicine, at some point, and I know when to stop taking more. There is a sweet spot and I am willing to try to get to it, at some speed. Damn the pillow torpedoes, full speed ahead.
Two dreams this time, and I remember them. Odd little dreams. The second one, of course, would be about a harem. I had six wives and was negotiating for another. Hey, it was merely a dream. It was a relatively pleasant dream, all said and done, though. I doubt if reality could match it. The other was sort of a creepy story where I entered a small town, rented what I thought would be my own room but ended up sharing it, the people's eyes glowed yellowish green at night (mine glowed with faint red slashes), and became a part of the town but as a complete outsider too. Nothing really dark, just... weird things. Odd things on the edge of life, the periphery of sight, sound, and understandings. Something just off, and it wasn't me, or... my strangeness I was comfortable with anyway. Entertaining all. I give the producer and actors a solid B+ or better.
Perhaps, with this nap, I might be still on for days. If I can stay up until noon I still plan on trying to take a short nap, then get to work in the afternoon. My body, other than being so tired, is back to specs to do pick and shovel work. And I really need to get some other things done. I have been changing the dish water a couple times a day, so that isn't too bad. I will probably have two loads to wash, atm, when I get to it. And I could do a load or two of laundry. Though really, the room and the digging are my primary goals. I just have to... keep... keep the target in sight for when I can get to it.
Have a good morning.
Thursday, May 17, 2012
Another... nap?
.
.
Wouch. I'm getting pretty beat up here. But bed is calling again. I suppose bed, for me, is like the bathroom for someone with chronic stomach upset. The sun has been only partially or even rarely out the last few days and it has been cooler, perhaps that is part of it. The other thing might be the medicine. My blood pressure has dropped to 193/123. While 10 points or so, top and bottom, isn't a great deal, that has been the drop in about a week. Perhaps that is coming down too fast for my body to adjust, thus needing sleep? No, I will continue medicine. It is just something I might want to keep noted as a side effect. My guess is, at some point, blood pressure levels will make being active easier. I also believe that a further, much larger, drop will have to take place before activity will return. I am moving much more aggressively than my doctors with regards to medicine, but then a bp of 205/133 was absolutely ridiculous. I didn't see much choice but to act quickly, or... as quickly as I could. And to be assertive with dosage. I am still not sure if I will double the main medicine, to the max I could handle it last time, when I reset medicines this week. I am leaning toward doing so. I've got almost a week to think about it.
Yes, after all that sleep... to be ready for sleep again? I have other reasons to think the medicine is doing it's job as well. One thing I noted when I first started these medicines, and got back on them before, was an absolute inability at self-control in a specific area. My vow to celibacy is impossible of late. Some say that control is never lost. I know that not to be true. Prayers and regrets mean nothing when I first start these meds. No, I don't do porn. Eschewing that at least a decade or so ago. I avoid anything that is too risque, to my mind. If I must look away I don't look to begin with, or... along those lines. No, this is... health returning. Eventually I will take control back in hand. At least this time I understand. What surprises me is that, even sort of expecting it, and erecting defenses, I was caught just as defenseless to it as before. If I were a rope, right now I would be a very knotty rope.
Later... Actually, probably, good night.
.
Wouch. I'm getting pretty beat up here. But bed is calling again. I suppose bed, for me, is like the bathroom for someone with chronic stomach upset. The sun has been only partially or even rarely out the last few days and it has been cooler, perhaps that is part of it. The other thing might be the medicine. My blood pressure has dropped to 193/123. While 10 points or so, top and bottom, isn't a great deal, that has been the drop in about a week. Perhaps that is coming down too fast for my body to adjust, thus needing sleep? No, I will continue medicine. It is just something I might want to keep noted as a side effect. My guess is, at some point, blood pressure levels will make being active easier. I also believe that a further, much larger, drop will have to take place before activity will return. I am moving much more aggressively than my doctors with regards to medicine, but then a bp of 205/133 was absolutely ridiculous. I didn't see much choice but to act quickly, or... as quickly as I could. And to be assertive with dosage. I am still not sure if I will double the main medicine, to the max I could handle it last time, when I reset medicines this week. I am leaning toward doing so. I've got almost a week to think about it.
Yes, after all that sleep... to be ready for sleep again? I have other reasons to think the medicine is doing it's job as well. One thing I noted when I first started these medicines, and got back on them before, was an absolute inability at self-control in a specific area. My vow to celibacy is impossible of late. Some say that control is never lost. I know that not to be true. Prayers and regrets mean nothing when I first start these meds. No, I don't do porn. Eschewing that at least a decade or so ago. I avoid anything that is too risque, to my mind. If I must look away I don't look to begin with, or... along those lines. No, this is... health returning. Eventually I will take control back in hand. At least this time I understand. What surprises me is that, even sort of expecting it, and erecting defenses, I was caught just as defenseless to it as before. If I were a rope, right now I would be a very knotty rope.
Later... Actually, probably, good night.
Nap?
.
.
It was about 11:30 when I laid down. I had no choice. Last night I had slept four hours, gotten up for perhaps three hours, then went back down for eight hours or so, give or take. Waking at 6:00, I thought today would be a good work day. When I went down for my nap I set the alarm for 14:00, just in case I thought. I simply could not wake, finally even hearing and waking to reset the alarm at 14:53. I reset the alarm for 17:00, hoping that would surely be enough. It took me nearly an hour of the alarm sounding off as well before I could finally rise and shut the thing off. I surrendered, this time, to sleep. Whatever my body needed it would take. My willfulness in using an alarm clock would simply irritate the mess. Finally, at 20:00, I am waking. A little stiff, slightly sore, but this may well be blinked off as I wake. Why did I need this kind of sleep? It definitely wasn't a want. There goes my attempt at a day schedule, perhaps, as well.
Never mind. I will cast about for news and information, waking more fully, get something to eat cooking in just a bit, do the dishes, set up the other bed, and... that may be it, if in truth even those things go forward. The need for sleep must simply be part of my health problems. I suppose when I am sleeping deeper and longer I never see the hit. It is only when I am more wakeful, in comparison, that I notice how much sleep my body sometimes demands. Medicines will only ever help just so much. On the good side, it was a mighty fine sleep. I think I dreamed a bit each of my various sleep times. Popcorn, however, was alas not served.
.
It was about 11:30 when I laid down. I had no choice. Last night I had slept four hours, gotten up for perhaps three hours, then went back down for eight hours or so, give or take. Waking at 6:00, I thought today would be a good work day. When I went down for my nap I set the alarm for 14:00, just in case I thought. I simply could not wake, finally even hearing and waking to reset the alarm at 14:53. I reset the alarm for 17:00, hoping that would surely be enough. It took me nearly an hour of the alarm sounding off as well before I could finally rise and shut the thing off. I surrendered, this time, to sleep. Whatever my body needed it would take. My willfulness in using an alarm clock would simply irritate the mess. Finally, at 20:00, I am waking. A little stiff, slightly sore, but this may well be blinked off as I wake. Why did I need this kind of sleep? It definitely wasn't a want. There goes my attempt at a day schedule, perhaps, as well.
Never mind. I will cast about for news and information, waking more fully, get something to eat cooking in just a bit, do the dishes, set up the other bed, and... that may be it, if in truth even those things go forward. The need for sleep must simply be part of my health problems. I suppose when I am sleeping deeper and longer I never see the hit. It is only when I am more wakeful, in comparison, that I notice how much sleep my body sometimes demands. Medicines will only ever help just so much. On the good side, it was a mighty fine sleep. I think I dreamed a bit each of my various sleep times. Popcorn, however, was alas not served.
They sure seem Christian.
.
.
One of the newer bands which I truly enjoy, new to me, is Nightwish. More there older music, though... that may be because there newer stuff isn't quite as available for free. No, I will eventually be buying, should I live a month or two more. So I don't mind free samples for now. What I have noticed, in some of their music, is a artistic connection to Christianity, perhaps Catholicism. I have seen this, on occasion, before. Sometimes as a fluke never to be seen again, sometimes as a complete counter to what was at the time an anti-Christian theme in certain genres. This group tends to be gothic music, of sorts. So there would be a natural... link. Though that link is often contrary, much as with most rock and heavy metal music. Not so with this group, I think. While they may suggest that there is a darker side I don't see that as being their main point. Further, I don't see them as purely a Christian based group. I just note that some of their songs have an air of hope, faith, charity to them. Here are three examples, ones that meant the most this way that I have found so far.
.
One of the newer bands which I truly enjoy, new to me, is Nightwish. More there older music, though... that may be because there newer stuff isn't quite as available for free. No, I will eventually be buying, should I live a month or two more. So I don't mind free samples for now. What I have noticed, in some of their music, is a artistic connection to Christianity, perhaps Catholicism. I have seen this, on occasion, before. Sometimes as a fluke never to be seen again, sometimes as a complete counter to what was at the time an anti-Christian theme in certain genres. This group tends to be gothic music, of sorts. So there would be a natural... link. Though that link is often contrary, much as with most rock and heavy metal music. Not so with this group, I think. While they may suggest that there is a darker side I don't see that as being their main point. Further, I don't see them as purely a Christian based group. I just note that some of their songs have an air of hope, faith, charity to them. Here are three examples, ones that meant the most this way that I have found so far.
Reflections in the mirror?
.
.
In my daily reading sometime I stumble upon something that... makes me stop and think. Was I like that? Whether it is about a uncivil citizen, political idiot, religious zealot or heretic, or such. A big stop sign appears and I need to think about it. If enough key things fit... does the shoe then fit? No, I doubt it is a finger being pointed... just...
Recently reading I ran into such a case. Having just woke up, and with so many coincidences, I almost blushed. Was that truly who or what I was? Everyone's first instincts, in such cases, is "NO!". But that doesn't work. I had to think, was I ever hard on a woman, coming to physical blows? Did I disappear for a day, night, or days on end? Did my women fear me? Was I a cad when involved with a woman? Were my moods mighty and terrible, fearful? Was I, in other words, an unmitigated asshole? First off, I was often an immature ass. I could be incorrigible. And I made more than one man's lifetime share of mistakes. I won't argue that. But... was I consistently such? Was that a sum of who I was?
With short term relationships I never worked up a profile. Most of my relationships were short. There are many questions, to each other, that never are asked. In longer term relationships, however, self doubts appear and so questions are asked or scenarios worked out or remembered, which allow for a clearer view of what type of a man I was. While I did play the cad, that role was distinctly when I was younger. By the time I hit my mid-20's, for example, while knowing I wasn't marriage material I also knew that I was predominately a one woman man. Admittedly, the relationship at that time, as I was coming into my own in being faithful, was full of... inconsistencies. Uhrm, though from both parties involved. The next few relationships, my last ones, were quite... singular. So, yes and no on this. Then again, I was choosing as a non-marriageable man for women who fit my profile, too.
As for violence? There were only two, maybe three, women I ever resorted to violence regarding. No, I never punched a woman, a mate or otherwise (even though sorely tempted when I was a bouncer from time to time, women drunks are inSane). I did spank a few who actually punched me, or hit me in an actual combat way, girlfriends that is. Those were in my early years. But I must admit, if a woman, my woman, tried to strike me even today I would paddle her butt still. I won't tolerate that kind of violence. At all. As for my longer term relationships though, I simply never did have that "problem". Even when I was in the throws of heavy drinking, and feared for my sanity (because doctors can't distinguish between bi-polar and severe heart failure), I often checked with my woman. She never feared me, still doesn't when I visited her since. Which I stopped doing because... she is still interested. And my last? She was a pistol! How else to put it. I did let her know that violence would not be tolerated, that she would be spanked if she went over that line. I think that is the only thing that worked with her, she was a true firecracker. She a shock troop liberal feminist, me... not so much. Oh, we had arguments that lasted weeks it seems, until even here I put my foot down. I would argue only so long before I required proof, documentation, and time to counter that before I would continue. The most I would do with her is... lock my computer room door if she was on a bit of a tear. By the way, she visits me out here to this day. She will probably be visiting this winter, for the third time since I moved. It's boring, sort of, for her, but it is a trip 'somewhere in the mountains'. We still sometimes argue, though mostly for hours on up to half a day. Last time she was here she was getting upset about such an argument. Later, after she had calmed, I talked to her. Not about the topic of disagreement but about the anger. I suggested I enjoyed these little disagreements, and I thought she could to, if she wouldn't take the material as personal, a reflection of herself. Divest emotion and debate, I suggested. I think... she actually, for the first time, saw... something. Yes, I really do enjoy little "discussions". I think she just likes to fight, so will probably never change, even if she might... learn to enjoy that a bit, privately, in the back of her mind. So, no, not a violent guy.
As for moody? No more than typical, albeit with heavier seeming "downs". But that is simply a physical manifestation of having a very bad heart. My ups tend to see me trying to figure out how to cram as much work into whatever time I might have as possible, or whatever social or religious activity as possible. As for the whole bi-polar thing, the guy in question or myself? I call bunk. There is no such thing, possibly. Doctors have just decided to call bad behavior something in order to... write it off the books. A bad man is a bad man, he does bad things because he wants to and to a degree probably has been allowed to do bad things. A man who thinks only of himself, and I have been here, is just a man without cause, goal, reason, or good leadership. Once that mold is set it may take dying to break it. It did in my case, actually three deaths before something sunk in. Yeah, I can be a little... thick. Still, there is a point where people have to stop giving in to the temptation to excuse every bad behavior through medical terms. I have faced much of my music, coming to God. It wasn't pretty, and things still crop up from "the good old days". Memories come back, with all the immature feelings I had regarding them right along with them. And these have to be tempered anew. No excuses. I did what I did, bad heart, bi-polar, or no. I take my hits. So I think the moodiness, which often goes with violence, is moot here too.
Yes, a thought provoking post is good, if it can sure sneak up on me. Oh, sure, I could be downplaying things too. I was and probably can still be a master at self, and other, deception. People do that. But, no, I think I am rather correct. I worked very hard, sweated bullets, swallowed guilt and shame, and slowly let the blinds come off. I also found out how to let go of that, the best I could. Christ as a psycho-social trash bin? Sins are worse than trash, so I am being generous (though not to us, or against Him, as it might seem).. Like a one time favorite song suggests, "When I was young I thought I was the nicest guy I knew. As time went on I learned, I'm not such a nice guy after all." And I am still not a nice guy, if I do my best to be a good guy in the true sense of that. And yet I still fail to be nice. If being good also precludes, sometimes, being a nice guy at all too. *shrug* But that is what I have. I sure regret the harrowing lives some people have gone through even so. Being a woman is no easy task. On balance, I am glad to be a man. Even that isn't so easy, all said and done. But life was never supposed to be easy once we decided we could do better than God's plan for us. Just... clearing some baffles.
Be well.
.
In my daily reading sometime I stumble upon something that... makes me stop and think. Was I like that? Whether it is about a uncivil citizen, political idiot, religious zealot or heretic, or such. A big stop sign appears and I need to think about it. If enough key things fit... does the shoe then fit? No, I doubt it is a finger being pointed... just...
Recently reading I ran into such a case. Having just woke up, and with so many coincidences, I almost blushed. Was that truly who or what I was? Everyone's first instincts, in such cases, is "NO!". But that doesn't work. I had to think, was I ever hard on a woman, coming to physical blows? Did I disappear for a day, night, or days on end? Did my women fear me? Was I a cad when involved with a woman? Were my moods mighty and terrible, fearful? Was I, in other words, an unmitigated asshole? First off, I was often an immature ass. I could be incorrigible. And I made more than one man's lifetime share of mistakes. I won't argue that. But... was I consistently such? Was that a sum of who I was?
With short term relationships I never worked up a profile. Most of my relationships were short. There are many questions, to each other, that never are asked. In longer term relationships, however, self doubts appear and so questions are asked or scenarios worked out or remembered, which allow for a clearer view of what type of a man I was. While I did play the cad, that role was distinctly when I was younger. By the time I hit my mid-20's, for example, while knowing I wasn't marriage material I also knew that I was predominately a one woman man. Admittedly, the relationship at that time, as I was coming into my own in being faithful, was full of... inconsistencies. Uhrm, though from both parties involved. The next few relationships, my last ones, were quite... singular. So, yes and no on this. Then again, I was choosing as a non-marriageable man for women who fit my profile, too.
As for violence? There were only two, maybe three, women I ever resorted to violence regarding. No, I never punched a woman, a mate or otherwise (even though sorely tempted when I was a bouncer from time to time, women drunks are inSane). I did spank a few who actually punched me, or hit me in an actual combat way, girlfriends that is. Those were in my early years. But I must admit, if a woman, my woman, tried to strike me even today I would paddle her butt still. I won't tolerate that kind of violence. At all. As for my longer term relationships though, I simply never did have that "problem". Even when I was in the throws of heavy drinking, and feared for my sanity (because doctors can't distinguish between bi-polar and severe heart failure), I often checked with my woman. She never feared me, still doesn't when I visited her since. Which I stopped doing because... she is still interested. And my last? She was a pistol! How else to put it. I did let her know that violence would not be tolerated, that she would be spanked if she went over that line. I think that is the only thing that worked with her, she was a true firecracker. She a shock troop liberal feminist, me... not so much. Oh, we had arguments that lasted weeks it seems, until even here I put my foot down. I would argue only so long before I required proof, documentation, and time to counter that before I would continue. The most I would do with her is... lock my computer room door if she was on a bit of a tear. By the way, she visits me out here to this day. She will probably be visiting this winter, for the third time since I moved. It's boring, sort of, for her, but it is a trip 'somewhere in the mountains'. We still sometimes argue, though mostly for hours on up to half a day. Last time she was here she was getting upset about such an argument. Later, after she had calmed, I talked to her. Not about the topic of disagreement but about the anger. I suggested I enjoyed these little disagreements, and I thought she could to, if she wouldn't take the material as personal, a reflection of herself. Divest emotion and debate, I suggested. I think... she actually, for the first time, saw... something. Yes, I really do enjoy little "discussions". I think she just likes to fight, so will probably never change, even if she might... learn to enjoy that a bit, privately, in the back of her mind. So, no, not a violent guy.
As for moody? No more than typical, albeit with heavier seeming "downs". But that is simply a physical manifestation of having a very bad heart. My ups tend to see me trying to figure out how to cram as much work into whatever time I might have as possible, or whatever social or religious activity as possible. As for the whole bi-polar thing, the guy in question or myself? I call bunk. There is no such thing, possibly. Doctors have just decided to call bad behavior something in order to... write it off the books. A bad man is a bad man, he does bad things because he wants to and to a degree probably has been allowed to do bad things. A man who thinks only of himself, and I have been here, is just a man without cause, goal, reason, or good leadership. Once that mold is set it may take dying to break it. It did in my case, actually three deaths before something sunk in. Yeah, I can be a little... thick. Still, there is a point where people have to stop giving in to the temptation to excuse every bad behavior through medical terms. I have faced much of my music, coming to God. It wasn't pretty, and things still crop up from "the good old days". Memories come back, with all the immature feelings I had regarding them right along with them. And these have to be tempered anew. No excuses. I did what I did, bad heart, bi-polar, or no. I take my hits. So I think the moodiness, which often goes with violence, is moot here too.
Yes, a thought provoking post is good, if it can sure sneak up on me. Oh, sure, I could be downplaying things too. I was and probably can still be a master at self, and other, deception. People do that. But, no, I think I am rather correct. I worked very hard, sweated bullets, swallowed guilt and shame, and slowly let the blinds come off. I also found out how to let go of that, the best I could. Christ as a psycho-social trash bin? Sins are worse than trash, so I am being generous (though not to us, or against Him, as it might seem).. Like a one time favorite song suggests, "When I was young I thought I was the nicest guy I knew. As time went on I learned, I'm not such a nice guy after all." And I am still not a nice guy, if I do my best to be a good guy in the true sense of that. And yet I still fail to be nice. If being good also precludes, sometimes, being a nice guy at all too. *shrug* But that is what I have. I sure regret the harrowing lives some people have gone through even so. Being a woman is no easy task. On balance, I am glad to be a man. Even that isn't so easy, all said and done. But life was never supposed to be easy once we decided we could do better than God's plan for us. Just... clearing some baffles.
Be well.
Disturbing beauty.
.
.
As I was reviewing my profile regarding a wife, looking at my list, I decided to deconstruct the list. I wanted to tear each piece apart. I wanted to see what could be negotiated, how much negotiation room there is, and what lines negotiations might take. I think I chose which of the three listed requirements to question first badly. No, not that everything can't be questioned. Merely that if you start with something that cannot be completed, the projects that must follow it are also delayed. As is I started with my notion regarding finding a woman able and willing to be married within the Church, the Catholic Church.
I thought the process of creating debate for this would be easy. I would either take a few steps in, find a dead end, and move on... or I would trek through thought after thought, ending at some solution or set of solutions. From the outside it may look like logic is a simple device, to be applied to apples, oranges, fruit pies, family, girlfriends, or whatever else may be presented. Some things simply don't work like that. This is one of those.
While I was freethinking the thing hit me that I should start from the start. Why am I Catholic, well, to within my knowledge of even what all that means? If I don't know that, I cannot know what it means to me. I can't give Catholicism a value, a social or intellectual or spiritual currency basis, without comparison, understanding, requiring some thought. I realized the seed of my conversion, the initial seeds, where probably from initial understandings. I had been Catholic for a very short time when I was quite young, if little of that was functional. Actually, the only thing I do remember is being in a Catholic grade school for about six months, part of either the first or second grade. That was it. And we didn't go to Church much, either. That was about the sum of my introduction to Catholicism.
I did try to find God. As a child, we moved a great deal, yearly at least, as I have mentioned. We almost always lived in small agricultural towns. Often there was only one church, always Protestant. So, I would go to what was available. I began reading and such, looking, seeking, wondering. Oh, and there are good, great, Christians out there who are not Catholic. And there are not so great Christians out there, me being among them. We do what we may. I never did find what I was looking for, eventually I drifted to secular social life.
It wasn't until after my third scrape with death that I, re-awoke? I had seen something there. Something wondrous. Though even now I won't say it was more than oxygen deprivation. But it did move me. Having been close enough to death that only a feather would have tipped the balance forever, and twice so painfully that I was sobbing for my mother, I later came to believe that... what I had experienced that second time was as close to being near God as a human can get before actual death. The love I felt was immeasurable. This was the actual conscious adult seed that sent me on a search for God again, and what led me to Catholicism through accepting and rejecting this and that notion about family, faith, all, and God.
Having cried for my mother once, in part due to nearly delirium inducing pain, I thought the thing was a fluke. I was not on good terms with my mother either of those times, for my part. But when it happened the second time, I realized there was something more to my wanting her near me than I had allowed myself to admit. The love of a mother is an extremely potent thing. I reminded myself of those guys I had literally knocked out, who always suggested they had slipped on something. *BaM* I too was trying to say... I had slipped on something. Well, and I did. When humility is beyond rejection, there was the love. What I realized in that last dying was that God's love was well beyond even the love I held for my mother, if those two things are the only thing so powerful I have ever encountered. I try not to think about it too often. It sort of rips me up when I do. But I know it, intimately. While, if dying painfully again, I realize I will still call for my mother... I know these two things. Give unto Caesar what is Caesar, and moms are one of our Caesars. And, mother is another name for a form of the love of God. All of this is wrapped up in the notion of family. It is as close to God as we can get without nearing or actually dying.
Call me a ninny, a crybaby. Deny my death, deny my vision. Don't deny my words upon your very soul. You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind. Trust me, it's a bargain. Imagine buying the Mona Lisa for a dollar, then stretch that beyond your imagination. For that is a weak, nearly negligible, example.
In short, being married Catholic stays. I'm in no shape, now, to revisit the other propositions. All men are equal when their memory fades, probably as it fades too. Even an ogre can cry, and know what real love is worth. It is simply everything. That is why I am a Catholic.
.
As I was reviewing my profile regarding a wife, looking at my list, I decided to deconstruct the list. I wanted to tear each piece apart. I wanted to see what could be negotiated, how much negotiation room there is, and what lines negotiations might take. I think I chose which of the three listed requirements to question first badly. No, not that everything can't be questioned. Merely that if you start with something that cannot be completed, the projects that must follow it are also delayed. As is I started with my notion regarding finding a woman able and willing to be married within the Church, the Catholic Church.
I thought the process of creating debate for this would be easy. I would either take a few steps in, find a dead end, and move on... or I would trek through thought after thought, ending at some solution or set of solutions. From the outside it may look like logic is a simple device, to be applied to apples, oranges, fruit pies, family, girlfriends, or whatever else may be presented. Some things simply don't work like that. This is one of those.
While I was freethinking the thing hit me that I should start from the start. Why am I Catholic, well, to within my knowledge of even what all that means? If I don't know that, I cannot know what it means to me. I can't give Catholicism a value, a social or intellectual or spiritual currency basis, without comparison, understanding, requiring some thought. I realized the seed of my conversion, the initial seeds, where probably from initial understandings. I had been Catholic for a very short time when I was quite young, if little of that was functional. Actually, the only thing I do remember is being in a Catholic grade school for about six months, part of either the first or second grade. That was it. And we didn't go to Church much, either. That was about the sum of my introduction to Catholicism.
I did try to find God. As a child, we moved a great deal, yearly at least, as I have mentioned. We almost always lived in small agricultural towns. Often there was only one church, always Protestant. So, I would go to what was available. I began reading and such, looking, seeking, wondering. Oh, and there are good, great, Christians out there who are not Catholic. And there are not so great Christians out there, me being among them. We do what we may. I never did find what I was looking for, eventually I drifted to secular social life.
It wasn't until after my third scrape with death that I, re-awoke? I had seen something there. Something wondrous. Though even now I won't say it was more than oxygen deprivation. But it did move me. Having been close enough to death that only a feather would have tipped the balance forever, and twice so painfully that I was sobbing for my mother, I later came to believe that... what I had experienced that second time was as close to being near God as a human can get before actual death. The love I felt was immeasurable. This was the actual conscious adult seed that sent me on a search for God again, and what led me to Catholicism through accepting and rejecting this and that notion about family, faith, all, and God.
Having cried for my mother once, in part due to nearly delirium inducing pain, I thought the thing was a fluke. I was not on good terms with my mother either of those times, for my part. But when it happened the second time, I realized there was something more to my wanting her near me than I had allowed myself to admit. The love of a mother is an extremely potent thing. I reminded myself of those guys I had literally knocked out, who always suggested they had slipped on something. *BaM* I too was trying to say... I had slipped on something. Well, and I did. When humility is beyond rejection, there was the love. What I realized in that last dying was that God's love was well beyond even the love I held for my mother, if those two things are the only thing so powerful I have ever encountered. I try not to think about it too often. It sort of rips me up when I do. But I know it, intimately. While, if dying painfully again, I realize I will still call for my mother... I know these two things. Give unto Caesar what is Caesar, and moms are one of our Caesars. And, mother is another name for a form of the love of God. All of this is wrapped up in the notion of family. It is as close to God as we can get without nearing or actually dying.
Call me a ninny, a crybaby. Deny my death, deny my vision. Don't deny my words upon your very soul. You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind. Trust me, it's a bargain. Imagine buying the Mona Lisa for a dollar, then stretch that beyond your imagination. For that is a weak, nearly negligible, example.
In short, being married Catholic stays. I'm in no shape, now, to revisit the other propositions. All men are equal when their memory fades, probably as it fades too. Even an ogre can cry, and know what real love is worth. It is simply everything. That is why I am a Catholic.
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