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 ...

whatever and whatever

WHITE NIGHTS
They don't say "White Nights" here - but it's in my head because a Russian classmate keeps saying it. All the same it doesn't get dark here any more. It goes just beyond the point of pretty sunset colors holds there dusky and murky for a while and then comes back to colors. It is really easy to lose track of time sitting here looking out my window. I can't say I love all this light but the plants sure do. I can see one sod roof from my sitting spot here - it is kind of brownish but the wind is blowing the grass in little ripples. Yeah - and still almost a month left until June 21st. I will try to take a picture at the midpoint between sunset and sunrise on that longest day.


BLUE TUBE (Blue the way the British at least used to use it.)
We have all visited YouTube. Dramatic chipmunk. Star wars kid. That "Leave Britney alone!" freak-out kid. All that stuff.
The little thumbnails that YouTube automatically generates when someone uploads a video come from the center frames of that video. The titles, descriptions and duh video content are all user generated. So... if you want to disseminate information that people normally avoid, disguise it as stuff that people often seek out, PORN. People (should) know that YouTube does not allow nudity or anything otherwise too offensive, but apparently they don't and the attention span of someone who thinks they are going to get to see free nekkidness is pretty surprising. If you have a five minute video on your theories about the 9/11 (fishy is fishy right?) just stick a provocative frame in the middle, give it a skanky title and description and you have an instant viewership.
Looking around I see a video (I swear I am not exposing you to porn) on abolishing the senate with like 60 million views and 3,500+ comments. There is also some DUCKROLL phenomenon getting mixed in with the political and random stuff -- it's a duck with wheels. Forget I mentioned it... more I was going to write but Abdul needed some kitchen-sitting and why am I sitting in here anyway. Going outside now.

"I'm not even supposed to be here today!"

I finished my year with a muntlig (oral) exam on Thursday.
I have to wait three weeks for results (written and oral) but I may have managed an A without really trying. If so, that's two for the last two -- calc II UMassB AUG06 -- but I had to work on that one a little.

Anyway ...finished and wanted to get away. The last weekend here for a few people I know. My friend (An)Toni(a) and I got up really early to stand in line for cabin reservations on WED. morning. We weren't early enough and didn't get the cabin we wanted but got another one that would be tight and cozy but further away. Three of us were supposed to go on Friday afternoon. Another three to five to come on Saturday afternoon and just Toni and I were going to stay over Sunday night and come back Monday some time.

Toni and I spent a good amount of time Friday morning preparing a few days worth of lunch -- a major egg and potato salad: small farm strong eggs bought that morning from the gas station, potatoes, carrots, cauliflower, red pepper, lentil sprouts, onion, leek, garlic, light mayonnaise, bunch of spices -- all in a strong plastic bag to massage-mix while we hiked the two+ hours from the bus stop to the cabin. She left and I spent another hour or so making dinner (with intentional leftovers) for Friday night -- again a big veggie hash-up -- fried and spiced differently with some beef patties on the side. Pretty much all of the vegetables I had left in the house.

I packed my bag full: annoyingly puffy sleeping bag, some card games, headlamp, toothbrush (yup), extra this-and-that and all the other junk. Laced my boots up nice and tight. Caught the local bus down to the center. Got off the bus and crossed a large street to meet a friend. Realized in time that we had to walk another block and a half or so to the pick-up for the commute/distance bus. In that block and a half my ankle freaked out.

I tweaked it in Oslo back in April at Norwegian Mesterskap ultimate. I then went to København and played the WCU outdoor tournament for three days. My knees proved the limiting factor there. My ankle felt fine for a month and then Wednesday night started to ache a little inside my rubber dumpstering boot. I got home, got the boots off and it at least felt better. I thought maybe I could still do the trip and hike the hike if I got into the big boots Ethan sent me but nope. If anything I think that I cinched them up too tight and that contributed to the breakdown.

So standing there minutes from getting on the bus I had to just say goodbye to my friends. I had to unpack my bag on the sidewalk and dig out the dinner. Had to get back on the local bus and just come back up here to this room I sit in all the time (and am sitting in now). So -- no fun, no food, some pain, and I won't get to see a couple of those guys again (not folks I am so close with so that is actually not the worst of it). Mostly I just really needed to get out of here for a little while.

I found other stuff to do and it has been as okay a weekend as any. Just not as good as if I had gotten out of here for a while. So. Now I have one more reason to actually go to the doctor.

an important distinction between "having" and "being"

language influences thought, right
i have a problem but the problem is not me
the problem is something that does not have to be fast and hard and solid

i am not depressed
i am not my depression
i have a depression

just as this blood-coughing thing in my chest grew beyond my immune system
this depression is something that has, over a nigh-unspeakably long time, developed into something well beyond my powers of mindcraft

in the last eight or nine years i have gone through periods of counseling
it was not easy to first accept that i needed that help
and sometimes i still waste talk time dealing with practical logistical life hurdles instead of deeper whatevers
but in general it helps
i have been talking with a social worker off and on here since the beginning of the year -- a bit too much "off" of late

i have had two "happy pill" trials in the past
the first time i started to feel better but i knew it was "artificial" and that was too double-edged for me
the second time i started to feel better but i got really busy, somehow forgot to take my dosage a few days in a row and had a really bad withdrawal reaction (felt like i had been poisoned (oof this is just dubious ground in every way))

other than some caffeine and a lot of sugar i was substance free until the day after my twenty-fifth birthday
i still consider myself to be mostly not a substance user
at this point i drink on average less than thrice a month and when i do it is normally not more than the equivalent of a beer or two
okay - part of it is that the beer here sucks really bad - but i am so used to not drinking that i don't miss it whine about it
i have some huge desire to help other people but tend to shun most sorts of identifiable external help aimed at me
dependency feels generally contrary to my being (self important much)

so i don't WANT to take anti-depressants to rebalance my brain chemistry
but i think it is fair to say that i have been dealing with depression at some level since high school
and it is really maybe just my pride that gets in the way of taking pills

if i can realize that this is a sickness i have
that it is something that is happening to me
that it is not a failing of my character or a true failing of my genetics
if i can accept that my depression doesn't mean that i am worth less than someone who doesn't struggle with these things
then this foolish thing of pride shouldn't play into it anyway
(somewhat confusing there - not sure if it is more important to just accept that i need help or to accept that this isn't about me or my worth)

you know from recent conversations or blog posts or generally knowing me that i am not doing so well of late
which is maybe not surprising considering the giant change i made recently
(yes i mean moving to this isolated incomprehensible white place)
i don't have a developed life here and i can't simply pack up and go back to the old one

nine hours later i pick up the draft again but the thoughts are less focused
on and on
a broken record with a point is still a broken record

so
i think i have a tooth rotting (forget i mentioned that) and i think i need to go back to see bent (that is my doctor's name - bent korssjøen (the cross-sea (noun but not verb form of cross))) again and see if we can't talk about me joining the medicated masses (and my achilles (and maybe my thumb if it doesn't start feeling better))

any well considered responses?
any gut responses from the anti-poppin' crowd?
unfounded opinions? fears?
stories about cute animals doing cute things?

now i am going to read some of the gandhi i mentioned
forward on all fronts at once

favorite misspelling-creating-a-new-word of the day

"COMMUNITITES" [sic]

source: http://www.governmentattic.org/docs/FCC_Complaints_The-Simpsons_2003-07.pdf

boring / health / less boring / amazing

some maintenance guy woke us up to change some smoke detector thing. can't be bothered to go back to sleep. most days struggle hard against going to sleep in the first place. still just desperate for input and haven't sorted much in the way of output.

I have been here more than nine months. I don't want to actually think about it (cuz my head goes to lots of less than happy places) but it is coming up because my program is coming to an end. We had our written final exam yesterday. I didn't study anything other than a little packet on prepositional phrases. These might be the biggest challenge/hassle. I can't just think:
"I am eager to blah blah" and translate it - cuz here it is more like "eager after"
"worry about" or "worry on" or "worry for"?
"dependent on" nope... it's "av" which is like a combo of "of" and "off"
I didn't start this intending to talk about the language. anyway at least a high B without trying (I have to wait three weeks for results). Oral exam is on thursday and then I am done for the year.
At the beginning of the year we didn't know enough norwegian to read the name of our program. We just started referring to ourselves as IFUS and kind of ignored the fact that it meant anything. On the exam yesterday I finally saw the whole thing again innføringsprogrammet for utenlandske studenter - introduction/insertion program for foreign students. blah blah thoughts about actually being an immigrant and being "foreign" and still more about how still being a whitey means I don't face the worst of it here. Some fucked up shit goes on here. SORRY that was boring. I could joke about Abdul's inability to take care of himself again but that is easy and while not meant in a mean-hearted way still unnecessary and boring too.

The antibiotics seem to be helping (not too quickly mind you bleh) but my achilles tendons (mostly the right one) are pretty unhappy (I started having trouble with both at the beginning of the BUDA season last summer after playing on that really hard field at tufts) and my right thumb is also pretty bad right now. It was hurting already last week and then this past sunday I had my hand out about to grab a disc and someone ran into not my whole hand but just the thumb it and jammed it back hard.

We have a radio that goes on with the bathroom light. The sound is supposed to be disruptive to our otherwise usually quiet kitchen -- to serve as yet another reminder to turn the light off for folks who have trouble with that concept. It also means occasional exposure to unexpected things. When I first moved in here it was set to some horrible commercial charts station (even more incentive to turn it all back off) but I started changing it and it has been on the classical flavored national radio channel for a while.
Yesterday I heard a bit of something with funny sounds -- thankfully I had enough time left before leaving for the exam to dial it in on my dumpstered radio and wait for the host to tell me what it was -- Rautavaara - Cantus Articus - concerto for birds and orchestra.
the birds didn't sound so bird like - I don't err ... okay I have to check now... 1972 recorded bird song ... I didn't hear the whole thing so I will try to find it ... but I wonder if it has ever been done live ... like in a natural bird area ... nope cancel ... it includes slowed down lark song ... so at least that part would have to be handled with some processing (can't REALLY process in the time domain and still call it "live").

.

and you all need to at least glance at tilleke schwarz's 99% perspiration genius.
like hyper sketchbooking in thread.
i can't pick a favorite.
i think having one on my wall might change my life.
i think i would stand in front of it often and marvel at the amount of work-energy put into it.

shutting up now.
love and lots of daylight.

wow

our new flatmate (abdul, sierra leone) arrived last week some time.
i am not sure how old he is -- roughly mid-20's
studies geo-physics.
and (this is where the funny part comes in) has ABSOLUTELY NO CLUE how to
operate in a kitchen.
the other day i found him standing, looking blankly at the 2-slice toaster
he asked how to use it. i internally shook my head and chuckled and externally smiled and sort of suggested that he could probably suss it out.
then i realized he was holding a store bought sub/sandwich like all sloppy with mayonnaise and little bits of lettuce and chunks of chicken.
it didn't get much better when i led him over to the oven (warning that the vegetables would get kind of lame with heat).

whatever.

just now i noticed that he has a plastic tub of neapolitan ice cream.
he must have bought it days ago.
it is under a box of eggs on the top shelf of the fridge.
should i move it for him or tell him or just let him figure it out on his own?