We've Got a Twitcher!

So I had a lot of fun going to the clubs last night. Only problem was that last night was a Thursday night and I had to work on Friday. That normally wouldn't be a problem if I were in bed by around 2:30am. This time however I didn't get home until after 4:00am. It didn't take me very long to talk myself into pulling an all-nighter to avoid sleeping through my alarm and waking up to a phone call from my boss. So I dropped by the convenience store and picked up a Red Bull and a 5 Hour Energy shot. I'd already had several Red Bull drinks at the clubs so I didn't want to overdo it with a giant Red Bull; the smaller one would suffice. Everything went smoothly during the wee small hours of the morning. I spent some time goofing off online mostly. A text conversation was started by a friend who had awoken to get ready for work. He suggested that I drink coffee. I normally save my coffee until the hours of 9:00am - noon but I figured it wouldn't hurt. So I made coffee AND breakfast. I hadn't had a weekday breakfast in God knows how long. It was good.

So I pull into work and chug my little 5 Hour Energy in my car. I felt kinda scuzzy, like I was smoking crack before going to work. I feel different as I sit in my area. I don't have a desk per se, I've got an area. And it quickly hits me. I'm tired. I can get thru it though. The energy shot will kick in any minute and I'll fly thru the morning. It never reveals its secrets to me. The first few hours are alright. I manage to fight off the tiredness. But once the big bossman leaves around lunchtime I fess up to my coworker, Red Bull in hand. I think this was my first (okay, second or third) mistake. By doing so I feel like I unleashed a tidal wave of weakness. Slowly I begin to dread the next few hours.

Long story short before I pass out: I decided it was time to leave when my eyeballs began to twitch. This was followed shortly by a micro dream sequence during a long blink. I'd started to nod off when I sat on the toilet but now I was nodding off in front of my computer. "Ok...just don't put your face or head on your hand or chin". Didn't work. My eyes became kinda sore and I feared that I would just crash any minute and end up asleep facedown on my keyboad. Time to go home and blog while it's still fresh.

"Que Sera, Sera"

The last few weeks have been a tidal wave of change for me. Job. Relationship. Living situation. All of the major areas of my life are currently in limbo. Normally, change scares the hell out of me but for some reason I'm not very intimidated or even concerned about what the next few months will bring. Of course, I have certain hopes but I know that whatever happens, all will work out in the end. I remember being a child and not fully comprehending or appreciating my mother's words. "Everything happens for a reason." It took me a long time to really get what that meant. But now I understand.

Maybe I just had to experience the pain of a few trials so that I could look back at them, from a relatively safe and secure place in life, and see their impermanence. Maybe that experience of looking back provides me with the awareness that I will be okay. I may not be entirely comfortable. I may not be exactly where I want to be. But I will be okay. So why should I worry about what has happened or what will happen? Why not live in the moment and enjoy the ride?

A Face for Radio

So if you haven't heard yet, I'm in the running to be the next co-host for the KISS 105.3 radio morning show. There was an open call for video submissions and after the online voting was tallied mine was chosen (along with 39 others) out of 70 entries to move on to Round 2, a 10-minute spot on-the-air as a 'getting to know you' sort of thing. Needless to say, I was a bit nervous and excited. I only had about half a day's notice before my time in the studio so my mind raced as I played a million scenarios in my head. Of course, I could hardly sleep and I woke up every hour this morning starting at 2 am. After leaving the house entirely too early for my 7am appointment, I dropped by Starbucks for a pick-me-up. Twice. Uh oh.

I got to the studio about 25 minutes early and browsed through an old magazine while my (hopefully) future co-host sat on the other side of the glass and announced my arrival to the world. About 10 minutes before I had to go on I realized that I shouldn't have had that second cup of coffee. I had to go. Bad. ... OK, much better.

So I get prepped for the air by being encouraged to blurt out obscenities behind closed doors. It actually helped relieve a bit of tension, which I suppose is the point. It also helped that Kevin, the show's host, was cursing when I walked into the studio. I would fit right in. After a few short moments I was live. It was intense. I had no idea what was going to happen but I knew I just had to roll with the punches. You can listen to my spot at www.KISS1053.com. I imagine it will only be available for a short while (maybe a week or two) but I'll try to save the file and upload it here for time immemorial.

Despite the short duration of my spot and the fact that I was the very first person to go on the air for Round 2, we touched briefly on a topic that I would never have chosen as my introduction to the world. My credit history. Really Kevin? Really? I don't even know how the topic came up but before I knew it I was telling the world about my shitty credit score. WTF? I suppose next time we'll be talking about something a little less embarrassing, like my back acne or my flatulence problem. Nevertheless, I had a great time and feel confident that I made an excellent impression. I cannot wait to make it back to the studio for Round 3. My fingers are crossed and yours should be too. Check the radio station's website and vote for me!!

Parsley Baguette & Cilantro Pesto

Here are the recipes I promised in my last post. I'll be paraphrasing the directions so they aren't so long and tedious. Try it out! Baking bread isn't nearly as difficult as it sounds. If you don't have a large food processor with a hole to pour in wet ingredients while it runs, I suggest mixing and kneading the dough by hand (more on that later)

Parsley Baguette

Bread Flour - about 4 cups
Chopped Parsley - .5 cups
Salt - 1 tsp
Instant yeast - 1 tsp
Water - 1.25 cups

1. Put all ingredients but water in the food processor
2. With the processor running, add all but a few tablespoons of the water and process for 20 seconds. If the dough is still dry and crumbly, add the remaining water. The dough should form a ball. Continue processing for 25 more seconds.
3. Put dough ball in a large bowl and cover with plastic wrap. Let sit for about 1.5 hours. The dough may rise and increase in volume while resting.
4. Dump dough ball from bowl onto a lightly floured surface (e.g. large cutting board, countertop) and cut the ball into 3 equal pieces with a sharp knife. Shape the dough into balls and cover again with plastic wrap. Let sit for 20 minutes.
5. While the dough is resting, lay a clean canvas grocery bag on a separate work surface and lightly flour. We'll get back to the canvas soon. If you don't have a canvas bag, just wing it. I'll explain later.
6. Place dough balls on lightly floured surface and pat down to flat rectangles about 4"x5"x1". Fold top half down about 2/3 of the way and press gently with the heel of you hand to seal dough. Flip it around 180 degrees and repeat. Fold in half lengthwise and press to seal. Repeat for all dough balls.
7. Roll the dough into a snakes (like Play-doh) being careful not to stretch the dough. Just let them gently lengthen to about 14 inches.
8. Now place one dough snake onto the canvas. If you can find the seam made from all the folding, place the snake seam side up. Place another a few inches beside it and bring the canvas between the two snakes up to create a wall between them. Repeat with the last snake. The snakes should be nearly touching with some canvas squished between. Set a book or something on each side to hold them in place and cover loosely with plastic wrap or a kitchen towel. Let sit for about 30 minutes or until the snakes are 50% larger. (This setup will ensure that the dough rises up and not out. If you need to ghetto-rig something I'd suggest spraying some aluminum foil or wax paper with non-stick cooking spray and trying that. I've never tried it but it seems like it would work. My time in the kitchen is always an adventure.)
9. Preheat oven to 475 degrees with rack on the second shelf from the bottom. Put a small pan on the oven floor. It will hold water later.
10. Uncover snakes and make a few diagonal slashes on the top with a razor blade or very sharp knife.
11. Carefully pour 1 cup of water in the pan on the oven floor. Place the baguettes on the oven rack and reduce heat to 450 degrees. Bake for 2 minutes and then quickly and carefully add another cup of water to the pan. Bake for another 20 minutes or until golden brown. Tap the bottom of the loaves. If it sounds hollow, they're done. Remove and cool.

Cilantro Pesto

Parsley - .5 cup packed
Cilantro - 1.5 cups loosely packed
Spinach leaves - 1 cup packed
Pine nuts - 2 tbsp
Garlic - 2 cloves
extra virgin olive oil - .25 cup
Parmesan cheese - 2 tbsp

1. Blend all but oil and cheese in food processor until finely chopped.
2. With processor running, slowly add oil. Process until well blended
3. Stir in cheese

I wanted to add more oil to the finished pesto but didn't. It wasn't what I was expecting compared to store-bought pesto. Much thicker and bright green. Maybe next time I'll add more nuts or oil. But it was good and I was too excited about my bread to worry about the pesto!

Feelin' Fancy

I grew up loving Martha Stewart and I'm certain that a decent portion of my domestic knowledge and inclination could be attributed to her. Something about her old-fashioned, cut-no-corners way turns me on. And as I look back at my adult life, I realize that right about this time every year I get a hankering to make foods from scratch. I suppose the extra time and effort involved in making things the proper way (or at least the way people made them before TV) makes me feel accomplished and a little bit perfect.

My inspiration this year was the purchase of my very first food processor (which I have already outgrown). My partner has already made some wonderful bean dips and guacamoles! Not to be outdone, I set out to find the perfect food processor recipe. I quickly found a Cilantro Pesto recipe that sounded delicious. But would Martha serve homemade pesto on some store bought crackers? Hell no! So I found a food processor recipe for 'The Best Bread Ever' dough. Seriously, that's what it was called. I started with the bread so that I could make the pesto while the dough was rising.

My hopeful joy quickly turned to disappointment when I couldn't figure out how to use my food processor without making a giant mess. So I measured the ingredients for the bread again and then learned that my food processor doesn't like making bread dough. But after all that measuring and grinding (it called for fine sea salt and all I have is coarse so I actually used my cute little mortar and pestle) I wasn't about to throw in the towel just yet. I'd made bread before in a bread maker so I wasn't too afraid of just winging it. The dough was only half mixed so I just had to finish that part and follow the directions in the book from there. I was pretty nervous as I transferred the raw loaves onto the oven rack. The dough didn't really rise that much and I was afraid it wouldn't cook right. As you can see, the bread turned out great!

While my artisan bread was baking I began making the pesto. This was easy enough. Lots of parsley, spinach, and cilantro combined with some pine nuts and olive oil in the food processor until it's relatively smooth. But this pesto didn't look much like any pesto I'd ever seen before. It was bright green and nowhere near as oily as the store bought stuff. It tasted pretty good. But the piping hot crusty baguette that I made with my own two hands transformed the pesto into something magnificent! I know that sounds a little exaggerated but it feels so good to eat bread that you've made yourself. Try it yourself. The recipes are in the next post.

WTF?

Get this. I'm sitting at my computer waiting for some videos to load. "Hey, some music might be nice," I think to myself. "My *particularly relaxing iTunes playlist on shuffle sounds like a great idea." Halfway through Frank Sinatra's It Happened in Monterey I notice something that didn't sound quite right but I couldn't place it. Then I heard it again. It sounded like someone had added talking to another track of the song like a subliminal message. After adjusting the volume, only Franky faded away and the talking I had heard was replaced with a very psychedelic sounding song. Great song but where the fuck is it coming from??

another tab open playing something? Nope.
CD in the drive? Nope
Ctrl+Alt+Delete, Task Manager, Applications. Nothing

By this point I'm starting to freak out a little. "At least it'll give me something to listen to while I blog about," I say to myself. I title it and bring my little flashing cursor to the box.

And then the music just stops. It just stops. Seriously? WTF is going on? It's like my mystical muse fairy just resigned mid-shift. Was I mistaken? Did my brain just make that entire sequence up? I should really go to bed. I've had a long day and this all is just too much.

As I'm closing windows and tabs and folders I find one that I had somehow completely missed. Ooops!

http://www.dumpalink.com/videos/Magic_milk-l74c.html

Positivity Update

Hmm....so let me get something out of the way first:

I clicked the "New Post" button with the intention of solely updating Spreading Fast on my enlightening experience with the audiobook Positivity. So I went to Dr. Barbara Fredrickson's website (www.PositivityRatio.com) and took my first Positivity Ration Test. For some reason, I feel the need to capitalize the name of that test. But another part of me doesn't feel that it's necessary. Whatever. Dr. Fredrickson writes that a PR above 3:1 indicates someone that is 'flourishing'. My score was 1:1. That makes me sad.

But the whole reason my floundering Positivity Ration score is not now the focus of this entry is that I got distracted by something. No, it wasn't shiny or sparkly. It was actually a pretty plain website (http://www.panix.com/~tehom/), as far as websites go. Before I start delving into the topics mentioned by Tom Breton, a serious computer-...I-would-say-nerd-but-I-want-to-be-nice-because-he's-got-an-interesting-site-and-an-awkward-sense-of-humor, I would like to...to...wow, I forgot what I was going to say. Either way, Tommy boy has some interesting topics on his page: a link to a page concerning Men's Rights, one for links to every possible website associated with the show Married with Children (even a broken link to a website dedicated to the fictitious porno mag often featured on the show, Big 'Uns...here's a good link http://www.tvacres.com/magazines_big.htm), and another outlining his personal opposition to the letters g and h being used together in words such as tough or plough. Needless to say, it's pretty interesting. Definately more interesting than a below-average Positivity Ratio.

My Commute

It takes me about 20 minutes to get to work which is short as far as 'commutes' go but I don't live in a bustling metropolis. Without all the stop-and-go traffic and very few lights, it can actually be a relaxing drive. Awhile back, someone suggested I read A Stroke of Insight by Dr. Jill Bolte Taylor. It was written by a neuroanatomist that had experienced and recovered from a stroke. The book relays her fascination with the mental processes she experienced during the stroke and her personal experience with neuroplasticity during the arduous recovery. While searching my local library for a copy I discovered that they had an audiobook available. I'm not much of a reader anyways so I was overjoyed when I finished the book after just a few days. I love taking in new information and learning that I could consciously affect my neural circuitry thus changing what I think, how I feel, and how I react to circumstances was just what I needed to hear. My peaceful commute had suddenly been transformed into one that was also productive and uplifting!



I'm now an avid listener and have complete quite a few inspirational and informative books. I borrowed and completed all of the books by Eckhart Tolle that were available through my library. I highly recommend his books. I also listened to a few books by medical intuitive Caroline Myss. None of them focused on 'medical intuition' so I don't really know exactly what it is that she does as a medical intuitive (I believe she's like those dogs that can sense cancer). The Doors of Perception by Aldous Huxley detailed his experiences with mescaline and was more entertaining and thought provoking than anything else. Currently, I am on the last disc of Positivity by Dr. Barbara Fredrickson. I was hoping for something a little more DIY but her research into the effects of positive emotions has been enlightening.

Lost (and Found) Keys

For as long as I can remember, I've always been fascinated with the books in the 100's of the Dewey Decimal System. This is where the philosophical, psychological, paranormal and metaphysical books are found. I remember being a young teenager spending hours sitting on the floor of those particular aisles immersing myself in knowledge. I still do that actually. I'm particularly interested in metaphysics and the paranormal. A lot of people, if not most, shrug this stuff off as bunk, or even worse, evil. (boo). But I've always been open-minded to the fact that we don't know everything there is to know about the world in which we live. So when I lost my keys yesterday and could not find them for the life of me I figured it wouldn't hurt to try some alternative methods of locating them.

Enter the pendulum.

This Rose Quartz pendulum was acquired by my partner at a local 'spiritual fair' a few months ago. It was nothing more than a cute plaything really. I remember asking the lady selling them about their potential uses. She replied that they could be used for a lot of things, one of which was to find lost objects. So I grabbed the pendulum from its hiding place and perused the Internet for instructions on how to 'dowse' for lost objects using a pendulum. The instructions I found were basically very simple:

1. hold the pendulum steadily and ask it to give you a 'yes'
2. watch the spin (my yes was counter-clockwise)
3. ask it to give you a 'no'
4. watch the spin (my no was clockwise)
5. ask it yes or no questions

It was that easy. My partner tried it first by following the steps above and asking if my keys were in the living room. "No." Were my keys in the bedroom? "Yes." Were the on this side of the room? "Yes." So we looked and looked. In my nightstand. In my dresser. On the floor. Under the bed. And we couldn't find them. I suspected that a friend of mine had taken them accidently the previous night but he said that he hadn't. So I 'setup' the pendulum and asked the same questions. Oddly enough, I got the exact same responses. Still, I couldn't find my stupid keys. Luckily, it was the first day of the 3-day Labor Day weekend so I had plenty of time to find my keys before I really really needed them for work.

The next morning I tried the pendulum again. Same answers! But where were my keys. So I started cleaning my side of the bedroom and looking in every possible location (for the third time, probably). And wouldn't you know it, my keys were, in fact, in my nightstand. How we both missed them there is beyond me. But they were right there where the pendulum said they were!! I was flabbergasted. This was more than some vague horoscope that could be applied to anybody. I had just witnessed a rock on a chain telling me where my keys were!

Apparently, the pendulum works by tapping into our subconscious mind. And almost any object can be used as a pendulum. Just tie it to a string and hold it out. Try it, I dare you.

Grrrr!

I'm pretty angry with myself right now. I've been consciously working on being 'in the moment' so as not to worry myself to death like I usually do. I'm quite the worrywort apparently and experiencing a short string of happy, carefree days had me a bit spoiled. But now I can't even begin to slow my brain down! The worst part is that I'm just recycling the same crappy thoughts. There's nothing new that I'm worrying about, just a resurrection of one particular worry that I thought I had gotten rid of for a little while. It's ridiculous. It's not even important. I'm just making shit up in my mind. Oddball scenarios that are probably not even true. And my playing this situation over and over a million times in a row is not helping me overcome the fear that drives it. I'm only reinforcing the very attitudes and behaviors in which my worry is rooted. But hopefully my typing this will help me confront it in my mind. See it for what it is. It's just a thought. A thought that I can let go of.

My commute home will be the real test. It's a nice, long drive without much distraction. Very conducive to meditation (eyes open, of course).

Heebie Jeebies

So I'm walking up to a Coke machine at work and I see this single butterfly wing laying on the floor. I see this sort of thing all the time; there are tons of butterflies and bugs around here and they don't all live happily ever after. Before I drop in my two quarters, one dime and one nickel into the machine (what a rip off, right?) I decide that I need a single butterfly wing on my desk so I went to examine it more closely. I was certain a rogue butterfly wing would've entertained me for at least a few hours, possibly well into next week. Shiny, pretty things are so attractive to my easily distracted mind.

In order to avoid damaging what remained of one poor fluttering soul, I attempt to pick up the wing by the region that was once closest to the butterfly's body. Surely that part was much stronger than the brightly colored and delicate looking edge. I couldn't grasp it on my first attempt and it sort of jumped away from my finger. It might have only moved a few fractions of an inch but this was enough to make me rethink claiming this object of beauty as my own. I knew that it was dead and that it couldn't possibly do anything to me but I was still a bit sketched out by it. I, of course, brushed off my trepidation as weakness and tried again to grap the little wing. I was met with the same minute movement and I again reacted with slight disgust and surprise.

Why would this lovely scrap of whatever butterfly wings are made of not allow me to relocate it to a safer, cleaner place where it could provide joy and beauty to me even after the death of the one that formerly bore it? 'One last attempt,' I thought to myself, 'I will try one more time to pick up that damned wing.' I quickly mustered up the gumption and reached out for my precious, shimmering prize but it jumped quite a bit further than it had previously. I have no idea why but this sent shivers up my spine, literally. I did the little dance I do whenever I get grossed out (you know the one, where you make that grimace of a face and your whole body sort of convulses slightly while you jump around much like this butterfly wing had done), amd then looked around to be sure no one had seen any of what had transpired during the last 20 seconds or so. After determining that my failed attempt would remain a secret, I proceeded to insert my coins into the Coke machine.

Movin' on up

"Movin' on up, to the east side, to that deluxe apartment in the sky." Too bad we didn't choose the upstairs apartment instead of the garden apartment; that song would've fit perfectly. But we both love the new apartment. I've got it pretty much all feng shui'ed out and we're working on getting everything picked up and put away. "A place for everything and everything in its place." I've always loved that saying but I can be a bit anal when it comes to organization.


I'm starting to feel relieved now that the hardest part is over. It took us four U-Haul truck loads to move everything. Two of them were basically loose and extra stuff, a lot of plants to move too. But I couldn't believe how much stuff I'd acquired in the last year. Luckily, the new apartment has an open floor plan and a back porch where I can keep some large storage trunks. The backyard is fantastic too! It's nice from the porch but the best view is from the kitchen with its wide sweep of windows over the sink. The spectacular view made itself known to me the very first morning as I trekked into the kitchen across our living room cluttered with boxes and various pieces of furniture. I had three cups of coffee that morning and each time I noticed how the sun's rays highlighted each of the three main portions of our halfway completed retreat. The furthest, the concrete benches and table, was the first to be graced followed by the fire pit. The entire garden revolves visually around this area with its contrast of colors and shapes. The circular pit is lined with red brick and is surrounded by a square of pea gravel and then a square of crushed asphalt. All of this is softened with a nice border of bugleweed which will hopefully spread out nicely to effectively close off the area without making it feel cramped. And my last cup of joe brought with it a view of the newly finished flower beds. It was a very nice way to start out in my new home. Upon showing my friend and neighbor the view, she decided that Saturday morning coffee time would be at our place. I couldn't be more pleased with the idea.

I suppose I should try to remember that morning whenever I feel stressed, as I do now. We're not completely done finessing the apartment and we will be having a party in two days. And the morning of the party we will be getting a visit from the pest control guy. Apparently, the previous tenant had fleas. I won't go into it. Just suffice it to say that I am ready to relax in my new home without any of the worries that come with a new transition such as this. But I do earnestly look forward to whatever Life has in store for me now. The tension is palpable. I can feel it brewing.

Git-r-done!

So I've been quite productive for the last month or so and my fruitfulness is encouraging. I've knitted a few items, planted a small jungle's worth of plants in the new backyard and pretty much packed up all of my unessential belongings in anticipation of the move (which is coming up in less than 2 weeks). I suppose the sudden turn-around could be attributed to my excitement about the new apartment. You know, new beginnings...blah blah blah. But whatever the cause, I'm grateful for my new and improved outlook. Well, it's not really a 'new' outlook. It's the same one I usually have, I just have it again after having lost it. Follow?

But some things never change no matter how chipper I may be. I may have knitted a few items but I haven't actually finished any of them. They are, in essence, complete but each needs a few finishing touches. My yoga mat bag needs a strap or handle of some sort and the throw pillow should probably have a trim along the edge. But I can't decide on the specifics of either so I just put the projects away for another day. And the table runner I'm knitting for a housewarming gift has a long way to go. I guess I didn't think about table runners being 4 feet long. I probably should've stuck with something a bit more compact.

I would go on to relate my procrastination in regards to the garden but I think I deserve more credit than that. This garden has been a lot of work. Before we started, the backyard was nothing but a few patches of grass-like weeds surrounded by trees and overgrowth. Let me stop myself here and explain something; we have not moved into the new apartment yet but we're friends with one of the soon-to-be housemates so working on the backyard before actually moving in doesn't feel as awkward as it probably should. We have, in the past month, cleared all the unwanted brush and trees, dug up a layer of bricks that once formed a large border around the trees, dug a fire pit and lined it with said bricks, created a gravel area around the fire pit and planted some border plants around that, planted five other groups of plants, brought in some larger rocks, created an outdoor artpiece and brought in two benches for a seating area. I have been so dirty and sweaty and mosquito-plagued that I dare not even attempt to ridicule my efforts. I've never actually been a big fan of gardening but it certainly feels nice to get dirty. I would say that I feel more connected with the earth but that's kinda cheesy. Almost as cheesy as saying "I feel more grounded". But I do. Really. I'm hoping to utilize the new garden area for parties and relaxation. Maybe a little Qigong on the weekends or something.

Oh and the packing. I don't even want to start on that. Somehow, I accumulate so much stuff over time. But most of it is unique, beautiful or useful and that makes me feel better. I love yardsales, thrift shops, and antique stores and that's where I get most of my household items. I'm excited to see all of my new possessions come together in one random yet congruent home.

Ham

Just the mere thought of a giant chunk of ham roasting in my oven waiting for me to slice through its plump, pink flesh makes me weak in the knees. But somehow this delicate adoration instantly turns into savage gluttony when the first morsel is placed in my salivating mouth eventually leaving me, clothed only in a pair of dingy boxers, clutching the carcass in my bare hands, gnawing relentlessly at whatever scraps of meat may remain entwined within the tangles of sinew and bone.

I LOVE HAM!

Roadkill

Of all the things that I've thought "I should put that in my blog" about, this is by far the most saddening. While I was driving home the other day from a visit with some family in the next city over, I spotted a dear sitting nearly motionless on the edge of the median. She was positioned just as if she were posing for a drawing in a children's book or one of those tacky figurines that your great-aunt twice-removed collects. Either way, the only movement I saw was the turning of her neck and head as she rocked it gently back and forth. It was like she was pointing at something. Once she caught my sight, I had naturally begun to slow down a bit just so I could see her. I did the exact same thing for accidents and fender benders. Here too, I knew something was terribly wrong although there was no obvious sign of any trauma. I could see the pain and fear in her eyes as I quickly pieced together that she had been hit by a passing vehicle.

I was travelling home with the intention of meeting a few friends for sushi but it seemed that I may have a slight change of plans for the evening. Several courses of action rushed through my brain. Keep going...but who would help her? Stop and try to load the injured animal in my compact car and rush her to a 24-hour vet...but my car was full of boxes for moving and I don't even know which vet to go to and could I afford to save a wild deer? Stop and stay with her while she took her last breaths...would she not feel threatened and possibly try to bite me? Call 911...would they even care? There had to be phone number for emergencies such as this.

One of the friends that I was to meet for dinner I likened to St. Francis of Assisi. He was a vegetarian (maybe a pescetarian, I can't recall) and had fostered unadopted dogs for quite some time. He had even adopted two of these dogs, one of which was a blind female pug that had been repeatedly bred and abused. So I quickly called him up to ask for his sage advice. Of course, he didn't answer so I turned around and pulled onto the median about 30 feet from the wounded deer. I figured any closer would scare her even further and any farther would be too far for me to carry her should I choose to attempt a rescue. As I got out of my car and slowly crept closer to kept direct eye contact with her. I could sense her fear along with her silent pleading. It was utterly gut wrenching. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a city truck pull up and park on the opposite side of the deer. Obviously, someone had already notified the appropriate authorities to the situation. Could it have been the person that had hit the animal? I couldn't immediately assess whether this situation would have made me less angry at the person that did this or more angry. But as the burly yet gentle looking man got out of his truck my mind switched to pondering what my new role would be now that he was here to take charge of the situation.

Neither of us had moved much closer to the deer. My trepidation was evident to him as his was to me. "Is there anything I can do to help?" I yelled. Without even approaching the animal, he quickly replied, "No, she's already to far gone. I have to take care of it but I appreciate you stopping." I knew that by take care of he meant destroy. The irony made me nauseous as did the knowledge of what would be happening in the moments to follow. I turned and got back into my car as my eyes welled up. I pondered what her injury could have been. Maybe she just had a broken leg. Surely she could have been rehabilitated if that were the case. He was just following protocol and that made me angry. I let out one burst of emotion and tears and pulled away. How would he do it? Again the possibilities played out in my head. Would he shoot her? Snap her neck? Gas her? I decided that he would most likely inject her right there with some 'humane' chemical that would stop her heart.

As I left the scene, I turned the volume on my CD player up louder than normal to help quell my emotions (an audiobook, My Stroke of Insight by Jill Bolte Taylor). The effectiveness of this distraction left me almost as upset as the last two minutes had.

Fing Shu

In less than two months, we'll be living in another home. Despite all the effort that is involved in packing, moving, and unpacking all of my earthly possessions, I enjoy moving. New beginnings, changes of scenery. The chance to create an entirely different environment for myself is exhilarating. Placement, arrangement, color, shape, material, texture, light. They're all influential elements in the landscape that we call home. The principles espoused by the ancient practice of feng shui (which I won't go into, google it) are both powerful insights and common sense. Luckily, this new home of ours is already oozing with charm. Dark wood floors, an open floor plan, giant doors, thick trim, and high ceilings. The potential for a stunning and harmonious space to live and entertain is already there. We just have to make it happen. The excitement is almost too much to bear.

Non-productivity and the proletariat

Despite my numerous days free of the burden of toil and the respite from practically anything I deemed unnecessarily taxing to my post-operative self, I haven't really done a damn thing for the last 10 days! I slept alot which was nice, I guess. But I couldn't lay on my side or my stomach for several days and even now I'm still a bit tender when I do. The stack of books on my bedside table just soaked up the moisture that collected on the outside of my glass every time I had it refilled and, for one reason or another, didn't use the coaster. Note that I "had it refilled" (the italics are mine, obviously) because rising from even a slightly reclined position was no easy or pleasant task. It still isn't, honestly.

I did venture into the outside world though for various errands and whatnot but I was usually tagging along just to get out of the house. If you happened to see any guys walking around with an unusual and slow deliberateness wearing flip-flops, loosely fitting athletic shorts or pajama pants and an equally loose shirt while simulatenously retaining his Adonic charisma, that may have been me. Actually, I still can't wear regular pants or shorts comfortably due to the tenderness and the stitches that remain covered with the original tape. Nevertheless, I have managed to begin resuming those activities that don't necessarily require extensive range-of-motion on my part but still provide enjoyment such as crocheting a nice hat, reading a new book, cooking a savory meal...or doin' the nasty. You were thinking it, don't try to say that you weren't.

Stayin' Alive

So I made it through surgery. Not that I'm surprised or anything but I did get this pathetically morbid feeling as they wheeled me into the Operating Room. "So this is where it all ends". But I woke up shortly thereafter in the Recover Room only to learn that I couldn't leave until I peed into the little plastic thing. I had a glass or two of water and was finally able to squeeze out a few drops, literally. And each one burned as if it were battery acid. I guess they don't tell you about the catheter until after the surgery. I certainly would've refused it had I been given a choice. I was told that another catheter would be put in if I didn't pee so the floodgate on my IV was opened and I had a few more glasses of water (around 8 in total) and two cups of coffee. Eventually, I expelled just under 100 mL and begged the nurse to let it slide. After a second bladder ultrasound showed that, despite all the fluids, my bladder was pretty much empty I was allowed to leave. It's funny how eager the hospital is to get rid of you after surgery, especially in light of the fact that I was called in several hours early before the surgery ("the Doctor is moving rather quickly") and then forced to wait several hours.

Now it's just me and my new bedmate, Lori Tab. She's nice enough but I guess I expected her to be a bit more exciting. I'm sure she'd be alot more entertaining with a glass of wine but apparently she's not much of a drinker. It's probably for the best though.

Going under

Normally, by this time I would be brushing my teeth and searching for my keys so that I can make it to work on time. But this Thursday is a bit different. I'll be going in for minor surgery at eleven this morning. I'm not worried about the procedure itself but I am hungry and I want coffee (no eating or drinking after midnight, remember). It'll be a quick in-out sort of thing but I'm not sure what I'll be doing with my time off from work. I was planning on knitting something with some bargain yarn I bought at the Salvation Army (17 balls of an orange Italian wool blend DK yarn, 50g each). I remember seeing the bag of yarn with a little paper inside from the original store that had the $80+ price tag with a discounted price underneath that one and then seeing the cheap little sticker from the Salvation Army that had something ridiculous like $2 on it. I've had it for awhile but I figured now would be the time to use it. I've got some knitting needles in my trunk from yard sales past but I still don't have a pattern. I'm thinking about mittens with detachable fingers for the winter; I've got plenty of scarves and I don't like wearing thick socks as my feet get sweaty pretty quickly. I'd love to make an actual article of clothing but I don't have enough yarn for a sweater. Sad face.

I've also got a stack of books beside my bed, just in case the boredom becomes too intense. I'm not much of a reader though. Let's see...I've got 1001 Puzzles to Challenge Your Brain, Following Your Path by Dickerman, Jose Silva's Ultramind ESP System by Bernd, The 21 Lessons of Merlyn: A Study in Druid Magic & Lore by Monroe, The Witness of the Stars by Bullinger, and I Will Fear No Evil by Robert A. Heinlein. It's doubtful that I'll (want to) finish any of these books in the short week that I'll be out of work so I'll probably just do a few puzzles and ignore the others. But there's always Hulu and the collection of DVD's that's gathered itself next to the bookshelf in the living room. That's like reading only better.

Ugh...I'm starving. My intention was to gorge myself at a quarter til eleven. After some fried chicken and my second glass of wine, I fell asleep and awoke again just before midnight. I wasn't hungry so I went back to sleep. It was dark when I opened my eyes next but too late to go back to sleep. The nervousness in combination with my programmed alarm clock wouldn't allow it. So here I am. Stuck. Waiting. Hungry.

I wish I had taken the earlier rescheduling when they called yesterday. But I figured sleeping in would be better than getting to the hospital by eight. Dammit.

April Showers...

Ever have one of those days where nothing seems to go your way? Your bed apparently doesn't have a "right side" and by mid-morning you're ready to pull your hair out and it just keeps getting worse as the day progresses. You tell yourself that the day will be over soon enough and that tomorrow is a brand new day. Well, April was like that for me. A slow but steady descent into my own personal hell with the occasional glimmer of hope that exists only so that it may be smashed in a reiteration of my inadequacy.

But it's May now and hopefully things will start to look up. I'll be starting the month off right with a trip to Disney followed by a short excursion in South Florida. Hopefully,"'The Happiest Place on Earth" will be just that, despite my recent downtroddenness. And I'm sure a few relaxing days by the pool would me good. I better pack my sunscreen though; the last thing I need or want is a blistering sunburn! I have a tendency to burn quickly and easily and I'm not about to push my luck.

My First Entry

Thanks for checking out my blog! This is my first posting so I figured it would be the most appropriate place to answer your questions. In case you were wondering, you do have questions...

• What's the topic of your blog?

So throughout my lifetime I've had a few different journals and entering the blogosphere seemed like the next logical progression. If given the ultimatum of having to choose one method of written communication to use for the remainder of my life, I would certainly keep the keyboard and throw away those pesky pens and pencils. My hands get tired pretty quickly when I'm physically writing. And blogging saves a tree that would otherwise die to make whatever journal I would've bought had I not decided to start this blog.

This blog will have no real topic, per se. My mind tends to wander and I've been told that I have the attention span of a goldfish so it only seems reasonable to leave myself unrestrained in regards to what I actually blog about. I'm sure I'll grab onto a few random topics and beat them to a pulp until even I'm sick of writing about them and then I'll move on. So "Spreading Fast" is going to be a little stream-of-consciousness experiment. Hopefully, it doesn't end as quickly as all of my journals did; only a fraction of each journal was actually used. Only time will tell I guess.

• Who is this douchebag?

Whoa...no need to get hostile. I'm not making you read this (although I would if it were possible). I've been called a douchebag before but I'm really just your average-joe, guy-next-door type. I'll spare you the details for now but I certainly encourage (beg) you to check back often and see what's going on in my little world. Maybe you'll see that I'm not really a douchebag. ...No need to apologize.

• Why are you blogging anyways?

Adoration. Boredom. Curiosity. Documentation. Expression. Finicality. Gaucherie... Shall I keep going?

• Whatever man...