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I don't know if it's because I've been studying all day for the first time in weeks or because I'm following up an 8 month drought (medically induced) with a 6+ month drought (attitude induced) but Ladies...I am feeling alive tonight.

I only Lie if I'm paid

I just finished the worst workout of this year I'm sad to say. It should be no surprise though as these things come in threes. I had the worst BBM conversation of the year earlier in the day, followed by the worst post EVER (Blogger #fail) so when the workout I'd been looking forward to crashed and burned it shouldn't have really shocked me. These things come in threes. When I look back on the lessons learned today I want to always remember that no matter how hard I try the world will always see me as what I am, not that I wish to be, writing is an organic process but that doesn't mean it has to be disorganized and most importantly as much as I enjoy it, my time would be best used in a gym that didn't allow scantily clad women in.

I'll make it easy on you, what a disaster

No school for me today. Just wasn't up to it. I thought a lot about Michaela last night and her mom. It sucks to say and I feel wrong for saying it but I really do miss the hospital sometimes. There are plenty of people who would obviously love to trade with me so I don't for a second forget how lucky we all are to be on this side of the hospital doors. All this has also made me soften my stance. I don't think it ever got written here, maybe it did? But when I'm in the position to go back I really do want to go and see patients in the hospital. It is a shitty circumstance and if seeing me is any sort of consolation then I'm all for it. I don't know what Bill Sears is up to but I will be at UCLA to see Chris and everyone first thing saturday morning. I don't think I ever shouted out Rhodora which is a shame because she is one of my most favorite earthlings ever. You would be hard pressed to find a better person than her. Shouts to my man Newman while I'm at it.

I've seen this pose before, seems to be a female favorite?

Like I said graduation is right around the corner so the flights and hotel room are booked and P-Unit infiltration to my land of solace is exactly 30 days away.

There usually isn't any thing political going on here and for good reason. I don't like to run my yap on things that a) I don't know anything about b) seem mostly unimportant or c) aren't that exciting. But this is an instance where even in violation of rules B and C I have to speak on the matter. I was going to post a video from CNN featuring the dynamic AC360 but it's a big file that I didn't wanna sit around waiting to upload. Point is this. Some idiot whose name I will not even bother to go lookup is both a Doctor and an officer in the military. In what must have been his attempt to further prove to me, no matter what educational accolades you receive, you can still be a Dumbass, he decided to ignore his orders to return to war because he thinks President Obama is not actually an American.

What the Fuck is wrong with people. There's a rant inside me that I won't type out but just imagine the expletives landing like rain on a windshield and you'll get the picture. Part of me is upset that he is not deploying to Afghanistan. This feels like an overwrought plot to skip out on a trip back to the middle east and that along with this obviously blatant attack on the president for no reason really anger me. This punk ass looks the part too. He sat up on AC360 looking like the type of guy who would snitch you out in two seconds flat. Take it from me, I was raised a skittish, unassuming, weakling and only through experience did I learn to stand up and be a better person, so I can still spot someone with no heart from a mile away. The look in someone's eyes when they will sell you out for no reason at all is pretty apparent and this dude has it. I was livid to hear his argument but then when he popped up on CNN with a lawyer in tow who ended up doing all the talking for him I knew this was a gutless bastard the likes of which we've never seen before. If you truly were trying to take a stand for yourself and what you believed in, risking jail, professional ruin, and shame, you wouldn't let that ride on a lawyers lips. You would be marching hard trying to get the word out. This fool sat there and didn't say shit. He didn't even look like he wanted to...I'm just gonna take 5 seconds and *woosah*

Okay, I'm back. And the only thing that seems to make sense anymore is astrology. I love to make real life choices based on the power of the Zodiac because unlike actual religion there are no rules and as an added bonus it actually has some real life applications. Take 'Alex' for example. She was born on the last day of her sign just like i was so I know that though I could use the one set of dates most people would to figure things out, this one will be more useful.

That being said I don't feel beholden to this particularly dreary prediciton. Perhaps I am just still caught up in, "the powerful initial attraction" phase of things, but even still I get to laugh at ridiculous phrases like that. I've got enough self imposed rules of my own so getting to bend and break these really make things a lot easier for me to get behind. Besides if there is a single lesson I've learned it's that...

The Black Keys

Walking on A dream

I just saw 21 grams and it made me miss my nurses. I didn't have it nearly as good as this guy but I suppose at least I didn't come out with a chemical dependency either so fair is fair. The movie is scarily reminiscent of my experience in that Sean Penn's character is in a weird position with his lady friend. The circumstances bring them together and the director did a great job of portraying an accurate depiction of what things are like for such a couple. The movie overall disturbed me largely because the characters take a mental and emotional spiral that is merely there to facilitate the rest of the movie. I don't know what I would do if I met the widow of my donor and she was smokin' hot but the wall of emotion would be substantial to say the least.

But whatever, Benicio Del Toro did his thing, the sex scene actually was pretty good, and the movie was super interesting and well done. Kudo's. I wish I was as good at ANYTHING as those people are at acting. Each of the 3 main characters each had a scene where they blew me away with their skill. I can't say enough good things so I will just move on.

The nurses are what is important. I have so much love for the women (and men) that helped keep me up and running that I ache not having seen them. I need them and they need me. It is outrageous that we've been apart so long. Jennifer and her new baby, My "personal PICC nurse" and the two son's she will never let out of her sight, and of course my BFF Forever, Nanoor with baby Henry, are all back home loving life I am sure just as I am, but what we had was special and I miss it. I guess I can tell you now since I already told my dad, but it should come as no surprise that I am considering doing something dumb. I want to switch my care back to UCLA medical. The nurses, the techs, and most importantly my surgeon are all still there and of course the people whose job it is to keep me from needing to see them are somewhere else. So I am very seriously thinking of FIRING my current staff. I find it hilarious I have doctors that work for me and that I could fire someone so much smarter and more qualified than I. BUT I'M GONNA! Especially if shit ain't on Point when I come home in a few weeks.

How about this for news while I'm at it. I want to do a full sleeve on my right arm now. As in Tinta para el brazo! I'm trying to gather ideas for a tatoo that will go from shoulder to wrist so if you have any good ones please find a way to get them to me. It's not a for sure thing and would wait until I could get to a good artist anyway so no rush. And if you're anti this idea then don't worry there is still plenty of time for me to lose my arm in a bear trap so you're covered too.

This summer is going to be very important for me because as I see it, this could be the last time I go to any shows for a long time. MIA, NERD, and Empire of the Sun will all be in L.A. and I just don't know what I can see that will top those guys in the near future so I might as well retire right? Empire of the Sun for the uninitiated, are a band from Australia and they sound a lot like MGMT. I'm most excited about MIA, but Empire of the Sun is special because I've not shared them with anyone yet. I saw NERD with Ex#3 so the memory of them is kinda tainted until I can see them again and the same goes for Gnarls Barkley, Chester French, and anything involving Josh Homme strangely. So I need to see Empire because it will be a pure experience. The Black Keys, Gorillaz, basically the core of who I am musically was all shown and now I don't have a single headliner band I really love that isn't tainted with her stink. Dramatic I know but it's really simple. Imagine the most perfect meal possible and now imagine a fly just to the side of that plate. Not touching your food, and quite dead. That meal is hot and ready (or cold if it's sushi) but you are going to eat it with less zeal now for just that one small reason. So as you can see, I am very weird about music and when I start to talk about a band with you, It's like sharing a part of me. Nevertheless it just makes me all the more excited to see a big time act like them live. The sound is unique, but the look even more so. Lots of intricate costumes and makeup go into everything they do and it makes me wonder what life would be like if I ever experimented with psychedelics. Speaking of which...

It is time now for yet another unsolicited story about my time in the hospital:

So the movie 21 grams reminded me of another movie, Across the Universe. And one funny thing about this movie is that there is a dance scene revolving around the use of morphine and the dreams it gives you. Let me go ahead and tell you that me and my good friend Fentanyl went through some hellacious dreams together but I am not sure I'd change things if I could. And my dreams definitely didn't involve half a dozen Salma Hayeks in my room so this guy was getting a great deal on his physcadelics I would say. One such dream is really beyond description it was a horror themed dream but only in the sense that it was dark and there was fear in the air. But so was I.

I was in some sort of M.C. Escher type room where the stairs ran up the walls and I just kind of floated to the top of each flight instead of walking. I felt like I was underwater but everything was lit with torches. I had the same dream each time I went to bed while on this drug which is what made things so weird. Instead of a random part of my subconscious leaking out, instead I was seeing something almost scripted? The details are kind of irrelevant only because there are so many. Not only did I see everthing clear as day while asleep, I retained the images when I woke up and can even now pretty much tell you what was happening and what things looked like. This never happens with natural dreams and I think that's a good thing. Point is..lets all say a prayer of thanks that I am not addicted to this wonder drug, because I will be honest. Fentanyl is a helluva drug.

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Now for some women whom I do NOT love.

That is what she said

So this is a hypothetical I want you all to play along with. It was posed to me as part of a homework assignment and I find it kind of an interesting take on a tricky situation. You might have heard it before and I’m adjusting it slightly to make it fit the WB&C just a bit better, but the story is still the same.

So in this scenario you are a person living on earth and things there are just as they are now here. You are just like everyone else, no better no worse. You happen to be single and your job allows you to support yourself, so for all intents and purposes you are part of the nameless faceless crowd that make up our metropolitan areas. In this world however there is an international star of some sort. Lets say this person is regarded like a Perez Hilton mixed with Michael Jordan. Everyone loves them, everyone wants to be their best friend. Basically in my mind (because I am a geek) this person figures out how to solve our solid fuel propellant problem and allows NASA to get to Mars with only 2,000 lbs of fuel. (usually it’s 500,000+ lbs)

They are of course rich, as their idea turns them instantly into a one person OPEC, they are charismatic, so they are like Tony Stark in that you see them as the face of their company and they must of course be good looking. It all boils down to Conan O’Brien’s personality and fame mixed with Richard Branson’s money and daredevil lifestyle with the looks of the sexually appropriate person of your choice. In my mind and for the rest of the story this person will look exactly like 1998 Salma Hayek.

Now here is the story. You are walking around one day and you happen to hear that Salma, this wonderful person whom everyone knows and loves is sick with some incurable disease. A group of especially crazed fans begin to scour the country looking for a cure stopping at nothing to find out what it is. As it happens you are the only person on earth whose blood has the antibodies to combat the illness though you don’t know it. And how anyone else knows it is unimportant but what is important is that on your walk home from work as the manager at the local Popeye’s chicken you are taken and knocked unconscious. Somehow this deranged group of super fans, intent on keeping their beloved alive, have taken you and when you wake up you realize you’ve been hooked up to Salma via some system of tubes and wires. The doctors apologize profusely and assure you that the people who did this to you have been arrested and are facing life in prison because their attempt to kill you was stopped short but not before they could connect you to Salma.

After you gather your senses and calm down from obvious anger you are posed with two options by the doctor. Unplug yourself immediately and walk away. Allowing Salma to die or maintain attached to her until such time they can produce a treatment, which could take months. They reiterate that it is completely up to you and there is nothing keeping you from pulling the plug on her but they also stress that without you she will die assuredly. What makes this scenario interesting is that you yourself agree that she is a much more important person than you. Her work has brought new discoveries to mankind. Men love her, women want to be her, she is a truly great individual and you are just a fast food joint manager. Salma is asleep and you haven't been able to speak with her since you woke up but you are told she is doing better already.

So…what do you do?

Prince-I would Die 4 U

Would it make a difference if you knew exactly how long it would take to find a treatment?

I don't know anyone personally who I think would disagree that getting up and unplugging yourself is an a good option but what if it was a trade though, your life for theirs? Maybe you get hooked up with a slice of the good life from this, maybe you get stiffed on the tip? I also made the story a little different in that this is a person who you may look up to and or be attracted to. The original author is named Judith Jarvis Thomson. What she was attempting to do was make an argument for the defense of Abortion. When I first read the Plugged in Violinist my instinct was to say screw it, I'm not chaining myself to someone against my will even if it is only for 9 months. This was mainly because I don't care about Violinists. But by making it someone I'd look up to like Leland Melvin, Kanye, etc there is an added layer of conflict. Also respecting the contribution this person has to society is something that cannot be discounted. I would love to actually see what people think about this. Comments ARE enabled so feel free to tell me how you would handle such a situation. As far as I'm concerned this is a flawed allegory for pregnancy because pregnant women don't have their uteri kidnapped and impregnated. Usually it is the result of some sort of bedroom, bathroom or backseat type activities that involve both her and at least one other male of her own species. It is no miracle how babies happen, so the whole kidnapped and woke up with some unwanted visitor line just isn't cutting it for me. I still don't know exactly what would happen to Salma if it were me she was hooked up to and the picture at the top of this post has only a tangential relation to my actual feelings so make of it what you will.

Sleep is such a waste of time, that's why I don't anymore.

February is here and oh what joy it brings. For some of us it signals a time of remembrance for the struggles of African slaves and their descendents here stateside (because simply helping build this country into what it is, for FREE isn’t enough of an accomplishment) and for others it brings the one day a year we can be reminded blatantly of just how lonely we all are. And for those of us who fall into both of these categories (why’re you lookin’ at me?), thank the lord it’s only 29* days long. Ironically enough the 29^th of February is the only other day besides my own birthday I’d like to have been born on. My astrological sign suits me well but only having a true Birthday quadrennially would be awesome.

So today was my first day of work. Not a bad gig. I show up around 8. Pull out the bleachers Wait for the teams and refs to show up, then sit back and wait for the games to end. Pretty, straightforward stuff. The only things to worry about are the parents…Boy oh boy the parents. These parents come out for their third and fifth grade student’s basketball games and act like they’re at the Final Four. Now to be clear I don’t think there’s ever a time that parents should be negatively vocal except for High school Varsity playoffs games...Playoffs only. And only then, when the safety of their children is at stake. Before that age is too young, and after that age is too old. So saying they act like it’s the Final Four doesn’t mean I condone parents of actual Final Four Attendees berating the officiating crew but it does show that the parents I work with take things a tad too seriously.

I left around noon to take a lunch break and being that Oregon never lets too much urban development happen at once (I can almost hear the city planner saying, “we’ve gotta be careful, this might start looking like the 21^st century if we ain’t careful) I drove a good distance along what appeared to be an Alpaca farm before I happened upon a grocery store. Now I know the Superbowl is tomorrow and I realize most patrons of a grocery store on the Superbowl eve are there for the sales but while I was standing staring at the rack of Hostess cupcakes I heard this, “Hey man are you looking for the wings that are on sale?”

Now anyone who knows me knows I’m polite to a fault publicly, but you also know then that in my head I’m quite hotheaded. Anger consumes me and at this moment my reply was short but not terse or rude. Simply, “No, I’m not.” To which he replied, “Ok well if you were here they are.” He motioned to the butchers ice counter fully stocked with cuts of meat and yes, a bowl of fully bathed buffalo style chicken wings. (what shortage?) Now this month is black history month as I’ve stated and with that being said people in my position do tend to be on a high alert. Our spidey-sense towards all that is borderline offensive is peaked almost subconsciously. So I stand there wondering how on earth this man decided that me staring at some damn Little Debbies meant I was really looking for hot wings. But unlike many of my outwardly hotheaded brethren, I decided this was just a keen attempt at salesmanship. Yet and still the moment replayed in my head instantly about 5 times. And each time I asked myself was he really trying to sell me these on sale wings, perhaps they weren’t selling quite as well as hoped, perhaps he thought it was a good deal and wanted to clue me in. Either way my only goal was just to assure myself there was some reason he looked at me and decided I wanted wings without asking, and that his reason was a palatable one, because at first glance it didn’t seem likely this was the case.

I wandered off however, as I have often been known to do, and continued to search out what I was truly in search of…the fried chicken.

I’m kidding. I was actually looking for something to eat for lunch but since I’m cutting out as much refined sugar as possible this year in an attempt to eat healthier, the eye level stack of tasty cakes stopped me dead in stride and perhaps it was that sugar lusting stupor that kept me from being fully engulfed in anger. No matter, because I found the lunchables and the string cheese and I was off before I had time to give it a second thought. I realize I just alluded to a whole other issue which can best be described as latent anti-oppressive anger, but my thoughts on that won’t appear here anytime soon. Suffice it to say this is so minor, I was over it by the time I saw the lunchables next aisle over.

I have to give a shout out to the moms and dads who have the “front butt” as it were. I hope and pray we find a way to fight obesity in America. These folks get props though, bringing their children to be physically active while they sit by and cheer. Maybe it’s too late for mom and dad but getting their kids up and around is a noble cause. Also I’d be remiss not to shout out all the MILF’s who swung by today. Your stares made me uncomfortable but it’s good to know I was able to brighten your rainy Oregon day and if I were not contractually bound to provide this service to your children perhaps we could be friends of a less than platonic nature?

Shouts to all my pregnant women who have men that don’t open doors for them. WTMF!?! “Where they do that at?”-I'd elaborate but all I'll say is MULTIPLE pregnant women opened their own damn doors today with hubby right behind her. Jerks.

Extra Double Secret probation Shouts to my people at Yoplait. I had a damn Cinna’Bun flavored, thick and creamy style, yogurt for lunch. It had 100 calories and ZERO fat. FTMFW!

If you’re still reading I would like to say that, yes I do realize, I’ve used “Ain’t” and “quadrennial” in the same post…and for that I apologize. The grammar here today has been atrocious. For your trouble, if you end your comment with apology accepted, I’ll send you a secret video link to the most Inspirational Video EVER.

WTMF= What the mutha’fuck?

FTMFW= For the mutha’fuckin Win!

MILF= Very nice lady.