loyalty, beauty, additional injury at the hands of douchetards, douchebag doctors and self-care

sometimes i start blog posts in my head but that is not a good storage place.


i am retiring my beloved brown corduroy cut-off shorts. they have served me well for a long long (long) time. first as full length pants and then duh. i replaced the zipper when it lost too many teeth. i replaced the metal button with a little clasp when the material weakened so much that it just pulled right out. that clasp broke recently. if i hold it up i can see light through almost the whole garment save the pockets. it has a big rip right near the bottom of the right pocket (a window to that day's underwear selection). it has a beautiful little splotch of purple paint that pictures can't seem to capture correctly. i will cannibalize the zipper and i expect that most of the viable material will come back as functional patches for something else.

PURPLE

i was preparing some food the other day. dug into the basket of onions on top of the fridge and pulled out, among others, this beauty. the color was so intense and it was so alive that i didn't have the heart to chop it up. so it is sharing a pot on my desk pile with a little barely-living emaciated tiny palm-relative thing. reaching green towards the sun. mmm. i didn't not truly plant the onion for fear of displacing/hurting the little guy, but it is reaching down on it's own from it's spot on top of the bit of soil and setting in some rootlets. i will take some more pictures of it as it finds its fate. i am sure it will continue to grow quickly in this crazy light we have.

i played disc golf for the second time last thursday. the first time was with normal discs with peter berdovsky in some woods in maybe arlington some time last year. we threw at rocks and trees and picnic tables. this time was with norwegians with fancy heavy compact (~8.5" diameter) rubbery discs -- each dude carried between fifteen and twenty discs that all hook or slice or roll in different ways -- aiming at ground-planted fancy-dancy metal baskets with chain catches.
these discs fly really strangely and even though most of the guys looked super-pro with their array of colorful discs lined up in their specially designed disc-golf bags (where are the caddies people?) they still didn't really seem to have such awesome control. any of the discs takes a good while to get used to - so yeah i am not sure that having just one disc was really such a disadvantage for a first real attempt. some other douche that also joined up just that day was throwing some practice throws before we really started. he decided to throw in my direction and decided to wait to shout "heads up" until just milliseconds before the disc actually hit me... in the head. thanks douchetard. anyway. whatever. it is almost healed. but it seems like i loose blood every time i try a new disc thing or new disc place. or. i am just an injury magnet.

i went to the doctor today (yesterday). i talked just a bit about my depression and got a scrip - *SNAP!* then i started to talk about my joint pain and he all but told me by tone and level of attentiveness "hurry up. i don't really want to talk to you any more." he ordered some blood tests for arthritis (i didn't know it was blood detectable), told me that depressed people often complain of aches and pains, prescribed another pill for joint pain (which i am not jumping straight into) and tried to shuffle me off. excuse me while i swear - but fuck you dickhead. i know that the depression is to blame for a lot and i AM looking to my mental betterment to iron and even out some of my smaller aches and pains, but i also know that there is something trauma-caused and legitimately wrong with my left ankle and my right knee and something seriously wrong with my achilles. i tried to get him to look at my right heel/achilles and he said something like "yeah okay, if we can do it quickly." - if he was going to use an adverb in that sentence it should have been "thoroughly" -- he suggested that i just need more exercise but didn't want to listen long enough for me to say "look my knees hurt just walking down the stairs sometimes. my achilles tightens up after just a few minutes on my feet." i can't just GO BE MORE ACTIVE. he basically just said "you should probably go do some stuff." without really helping me figure out what exercises might be helpful for the specific pains i have. whatever douche. i have to go back next week to follow up on the beginnings of the 28 day box of Zoloft™-®-©-whatevs that i have in my hands (okay it is in my backpack) and if i have to sit there until he listens to me then i will sit there.

... posting ... continuing tomorrow ... or the next day ...