Archive for November, 2004

something lame

Saturday, November 27th, 2004

girlfriend has requested I write something lame for her and I am up to the challenge despite having just had a cup.5 of buttered rum. mmm, buttered rum. It looks like poo when you make it and has enough cholesterol to kill an adult mule (I speak from experience), but goddamn is it good.
So a tribute to lameatude this Holiday weekend:

* Working for The Man – The Man promised us we could get out of work at 3 on Wednesday. This excited me because I don’t get much free time and planned to do it up with movies and video games. But my phone rang at 2:59 with a problem that took another hour to solve.

* Snow – I like snow sometimes. It’s fluffy and pure and fun to play in. But when a foot of it comes down just as you are leaving work (an hour later than planned on your movie/video game day) I unlike it. Mainly because the first snow in Michigan has a scientifically documented ability to send psychic waves of amnesia. Even though our state motto was going to be “Where Old Man Winter Takes A Dump” (they had trouble fitting it all on the license plate) people who have lived here their whole lives will behave as though they have never seen snow. As a result they will invariably use the same driving techniques they would on dry road. This results in some mystified looks as they slide sideways, completely unable to grasp the physics of the situation. Fortunately the state government recognized this phenomenon and installed car catchers on the side of the road, called “ditches”.

Anyway, this slowed progress to the video store. After making my selection, I ordered some pizza so it would be waiting at my door when I got home. However, one of the many casualties I passed on the slow trek home was the pizza delivery guy. His tire was blown so I got out to “help” – not sure what I was thinking because with my mechanical ability he might as well have been trying to repair a nuclear reactor. But I know a stripped bolt when I see one and that dude was going no where without a tow truck. He said he had a cell phone and sent me on my way. I called the pizza place back and said I would pick the pizza up myself. They said it was good idea and would be waiting for me when I got there.

It wasn’t. Snow also affects people’s digestive system causing overwhelming cravings for pizza. This, combined with delivery guys hanging out with the beavers who live in the car catchers resulted in pure chaos at the pizza shop. The whole staff looked like they had been taking turns hitting each other in the face with a bat. Needless to say my pizza order fell through the cracks and they had to remake it.

So I got home about three hours later than planned. Tried to make the most of it and plugged in my first movie. Then my girlfriend called and said she was going to the bars that night with an old friend. Now it wasn’t just snowing outside, it was storming, with thunder and lightening. I’ve never seen anything like it and could only think it was nature’s polite way of saying “Don’t fuck with me.” Yet my girlfriend was going to go out in it and consume lots of alcohol. The concept didn’t really excite my, and I was a nervous wreck worrying about it. Happy to report she made it home safe! My “me” night however just never stood a chance and was over before I knew it :(

So yeah, snow is lame.

* The Detroit Lions – lame. Lame. LAME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! oh great, now I’m crying…

* BUT on an UNlame note – Turkey, mashed potatoes, gravy and stuffing. Oh do I give thanks for turkey, mashed potatoes, gravy and stuffing. And some freaking buttered rum! …mmm, buttered rum.

How to test for narcolepsy

Friday, November 12th, 2004

Nothing as exciting as a bloody nose (sadly the highlight of my week) but if you have trouble staying awake during the day and think your brain may be defective like mine, read on.

From a letter to a co-worker who is having sleepy issues:

1. Get a neurologist. This may take a referral from your family doctor. There are many out there but you may have to go through a couple to find one that works for you. I fired my first neurologist because he didn’t really listen to me.

2. Have neurologist do a genetic blood test – doesn’t prove you have it, just that you are a possible candidate for it.

3. Have neurologist set up a sleep study (did mine at Covenant in Saginaw). They will put goop in your hair, plug in wires all over you and then tell you to “sleep normally” – worth it for the experience alone. Again, if you don’t show apnea (which if you do is very correctable), they will keep you for a series of twenty minute naps – which is also fun, like constantly shifting from fifth gear to first all day. You will then be diagnosed one way or the other based on your REM patterns.

Also, one other symptom I forgot about. Sleep paralysis – I didn’t even know this was a symptom until a couple years after I was diagnosed, but I have had it happen ever since I was a child. At the beginning or end of your sleep cycle, have you ever felt like you were trying to wake up but you can’t and you can’t move? You’ll know because it’s a terrifying experience – basically feels like drowning. Being aware of it does help a little though.
——
* Didn’t mention this in the letter, but important to clear up something often confused:

Narcoleptic – someone who constantly needs to sleep
Necropheliac – someone who constantly needs to sleep with dead people

One is a neurological disorder while the other is more of a hobby.

morning flow

Thursday, November 11th, 2004

I was finishing up shaving when I looked down and noticed a couple drops of water that were slightly tainted red. I assumed that I cut myself and looked up to see were the nick was. It was at that point that my nose unleashed a crimson tide like I’ve never seen. My head transformed into a nightmarish blood fountain. I wasn’t even able to determine which nostril had imploded because my whole lower face was covered in red ick, looking like Dracula back from the buffet. Meanwhile, my hands were soaking wet from shaving, preventing me from grabbing a tissue. I held my dripping head over the sink while angling my hands back to the towel. When that was accomplished, I grabbed the toilet paper and finally mopped up the mess.

The left nostril turned out to be the guilty party, and I had to plug it a couple times just to slow it down. The sink looked like a murder scene, completly splattered with blood. Now, had I been thinking, I could have used this as an opportunity to assist my roommate, a recovering sex addict who had a major breakdown the night before. All I would have had to do is dip my finger in the blood to spell out a note for him and his guest:

“When you are finshed with her, please leave me the body, thanks.”

He would have been grateful in the long run for helping him get back on the wagon, but sadly I didn’t think of it till too late. So instead I rinsed it all down the drain. At least I think I got it all – I was running pretty late by that point.

As far as the nose goes, I left the plug in till I was almost to work. It was soaking through, and I was considering heading straight to the emergency room. My brain is rupturing, quick somebody scan my cat!! Or maybe something from my nose surgery last Spring had broken loose (it was the same nostril that had been worked on.) But then the voice of reason finally kicked in and said,

“Hey dude, this is the voice of reason. Did you notice your sinuses are kickin and your nose is dried out?”

So I verified this and sure enough he was right. At the next stoplight, I worked up the courage to take out the plug. I pulled the red glob out of my nose and studied it. Then it occurred to me that other people could find that disgusting. Like the other people waiting at the stoplight. I glanced at the car to my left, and the driver quickly looked away, suddenly taking an unnatural interest in her steering wheel.

Fortunately, the flood had receded and my nose was dry. In the end, I was only ten minutes late for work which no one noticed because they were all focused on their own tragedy – the broken coffee machine. I took a couple shots of nasal spray and it seems to be all right (my nose that is, not the coffee machine). Part of me though is hoping that when my boss comes over to ask how my day is going, my nose will open up and squirt over everything. If that doesn’t get me sent home, nothing will.