Arizona - It's Not For Everybody

Depressing Song Alert!

I was on my way back to my in-laws house, with a back seat full of supplies taken from my mold infested home, and I heard this song on the radio. Driving away from the house that I should have been sleeping at, and driving to a home that is not mine, where I feel like a guest, made this song feel very poignant at the time. It was as if it were inserted into a soundtrack for this moment in my life.

The song is called 'I And Love And You' by The Avett Brothers. It has been out for a few months, from what I can tell, but tonight was the first time I have heard the song. Here is their video:



This recent illness is trying me. I am broken. I don't know how, or if, I can put myself back together. And on that happy note......

Update On "When It Rains"

I went to my neurologist and my psychiatrist. They both agreed...I am not schizophrenic. There have been a couple of common threads regarding my hallucinations that have been noticed by the doctors. They have all occurred in the evening, and they have all occurred in the bedroom or while I was in bed.

That being said, they think they are hallucinations that are happening because I am starting my dreams while I am still awake. My sleep has been so fragmented lately, that I have not been able to get a full night's sleep like I would like to.

While relieved, I long for some righteous sleep. I have had sleepless nights since October. Don't know why. But sleep would be nice.

Death Watch...Week Three

That's right, people. I'm still sick. Went to the ER on Sunday night, in fact. Nothing says "Oscar party" like Superman pajama shorts and a barf bag.

Anyway, now I've been diagnosed with an upper respiratory infection. This, after being diagnosed as having H1N1, then bronchitis. I have been given Tamiflu, antibiotics, steroids and various over the counter medications. I am still sick. The only difference between today and how I felt when this started three weeks ago is the absence of body aches. I have since developed a burning sensation in my lungs. I am coughing up a foamy, egg white like material. I can't stop coughing. And, with all of the drugs I've taken, I SHOULD BE HEALED.

Here's one possibility. We have mold in our house. Whether it's toxic or not, we don't know. We have to let the test incubate for another 48 hours or so to let the mold grow. Then, we can send our tests to an independent lab to get a result back to let us know if it is toxic black mold or not. In the meantime, my wife's parents are wonderful enough to allow us to stay in their home.

If we do have mold, I don't know what we are going to do. The only real way to get better is to get yourself out of the environment. To be honest, since staying at mom and dad's, we have been feeling a little better. But it's hard to tell if that is because of us being taken out of a toxic environment or because of the litany of drugs floating in our system currently.

I will keep you all posted. If I die, I will be sure to have the executor of my estate put the cause of death on the blog. Finally, it may put this mystery to an end. I'M JOKING OF COURSE.

When It Rains?

I'm trying not to jump to conclusions, but, I've had some things happen recently that have made me question my sanity. It all started about a month ago. I started to have some hallucinations. I told my therapists about it, but they thought it was probably neurological and something I should see my neurologist about.

I would see possums and raccoons in my bedroom at night. I knew they weren't real, simply because possums and raccoons don't live in this part of the country. I would also see a homeless woman. My hallucination of her would be so real, that once I almost confronted her. She came into the bedroom and startled me. I got up from the chair I was sitting in, and almost started to scream at her. I realized once I stood up and started to charge that she didn't exist. That instance really scared me. Again, my therapists didn't think much of it.

I have also had some instances where I didn't feel like I was myself. I know this probably doesn't make sense, but, I thought I was my father. If my wife would have called my name at the time, I wouldn't have responded. I would have responded to my father's name though. It doesn't make sense to me either. This has been happening to me on a regular basis for a couple of months.

Last night really took the cake. Granted, I was taking Robutussin with Codeine for this cough I have been having with my flu. I'm not sure if that had a hand in what happened or not. My head has been quite cloudy for the last few days anyway. We had just finished watching TV, and the "noise" in my head was seriously loud. I told my wife that "I just couldn't take it anymore and was going to bed", not realizing that it was in my head and not outside noise.

I laid down in bed. My immediate thoughts were, "Oh my God. They've been kidnapped. We have to do something. What are we going to do? What are we going to do?" I didn't realize I was freaking out about people that I had just seen on the TV show. They weren't real. They were fictional. I was trying to figure out how to save characters on a TV show...and it was almost bringing me to tears.

Two hours later, I laid down to go to bed for the night. I was laying on my back and staring up at the ceiling. I suddenly felt like I was standing. I coughed, and, I thought, knelt. It was sunny outside. A voice called out to me in Spanish. I understood what he said though. He said, "You may stumble along the road many times in life. I am the only one that can lift you up." It was Jesus. Jesus spoke to me. In Spanish. He then told me to go to Joint Fellowship Christian Center on Bell Road in Phoenix. It was as if I had received a vision. I was doubtful. I am Atheist after all.

I immediately Googled Joint Fellowship Christian Center. It doesn't exist. If it did, I would consider it a vision. Since it doesn't, I am afraid it may be schizophrenia. So, I was supposed to have a psych appointment today that I had rescheduled to the 23rd since I was still sick. I'm now trying to get in on a cancellation. Like I said, I may be jumping the gun, but if it is schizophrenia, talk about a trifecta; to have Tourette's, PTSD and schizophrenia. I don't think I would have any trouble with the SS at this point. I will keep you all posted. Wish me luck.

New Gorillaz Video

"Stylo", just debuted, from the new 'Plastic Beach' album, due later this month. I like it. As always, with a reinvented sound, but unmistakably Gorillaz, and, with a trippy video featuring Bruce Willis. Enjoy:

This Week In Cool Video

OK Go, the pioneers in DIY music video, came out with a new one recently. It's entitled, 'This Too Shall Pass', which is sort of fitting considering I'm still sick. One of the coolest Rube Goldberg videos I have seen in quite a while. Give it a look:

Still It's Bitch

Yep. Doctor even put me on Tamiflu and cough syrup with Codeine. That's how you know it's serious. I've been upgraded to full on narcotics.

I will post something when I have a temperature lower than 102.

Goodnight.

The Flu Has Made Me It's Bitch

I am sick. Sick sick. I'm not throwing up or anything. I just have body aches and a chest cold that will not stop. I have been laying in bed all day today.

Just when I think I'm feeling better and start to feel courageous, I get up out of bed. I feel great for three seconds. Then, out of nowhere, I hear this voice(I swear it's God) that says, "LAY YOUR ASS BACK DOWN". Then, my muscles start to feel like what meat must feel like after being tenderized.

I took a shower. OK. It wasn't a real shower. I turned on the hot water and leaned against a wall for three minutes. I have a doctor's appointment on Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday. I have to start feeling better.

Soundtrack Of My Life - 02/19/2010 'Homesick'

I haven't done a "Soundtrack of My Life" post in a long time. This is the first one for 2010, in fact. I heard this song a few years ago and it has always struck a chord with me. I have lived in a fair share of places. Phoenix. Denver. Cincinnati. Albuquerque. Las Vegas. They have all had their pros and cons, but none of them have ever really felt like home. All of my life, regardless of where I have been, I have felt like a visitor and not a local. A consummate outsider.

If given the choice, I don't really know where I would go. Perhaps the Pacific Northwest. Perhaps the North Atlantic. Maybe Canada. "I'm homesick, though I don't really know where home is".

My Brain Won't Let Me Forget Him

I had a really bad flashback a few days ago. Probably the roughest one I've had yet. I have been having nightmares pretty regularly, but flashbacks have been few and far between. When one comes up, it almost takes the air out of my lungs. It wholly catches me off guard. This one really shook me up.

I was getting dressed a few mornings back and I grabbed my belt. I grabbed it by it's ends, with the buckle and the holes touching. It dropped down by my side. Suddenly, I was in a room getting beat by my father. It was so clear, it was as if I was 9 or 10 years old all over again. My thighs felt the pressure of being pressed up against the end of my bed. I saw him. Standing there with his belt, held in the way mine was seconds earlier. His fat, sweaty face looking down at mine. Hell, it was so real, I could even smell his breath.

The entire episode lasted all of 15 to 20 seconds, but it felt like an hour. When I realized I was standing in my bedroom, an adult, and completely safe, I started shaking. I haven't seen my father in five years, and, since having these nightmares and flashbacks, I don't think the time will ever come where I will want to again.

I think I have said some of this before, I don't know. My dad's weapon of choice was his belt. He reminded me of a baseball player in a lot of ways. My mom would use whatever was handy. A wooden spoon, a switch, a ping pong paddle. My dad's belt was like his favorite bat. He was faithful to it.

When I was younger, I would get "whipped" while clothed, and, if I was lucky, with pants on instead of shorts. As time went on, my dad realized that the clothing cushioned the blow, so to speak. I was also able to tense up my ass muscles without him noticing. That made the spanking hurt less. As a consequence, all spankings were done bare assed from that point on.

My ass became his field of dreams, and let's just say he swung for the fences. He had a way of swinging the belt much like the way a ball player would swing at a pitch. He used two hands, one holding the belt together at the buckle, the other stretching it out straight at the end. He would then take a step forward and swing. The fucker actually would swing at me like he had a baseball bat in his hands. Occasionally, he would get a little too close and I would get part of a belt buckle or a fist across my backside. If I tried to stop him, or if I tensed up, or put my hands behind my ass to block the whacks, I would get more. So, I took the buckle and fist hits.

I got beat this way until I was 14 or 15, until my ass was hairier than my dad's and it became embarrassing for him to whip me bare assed. My dad was 5'10". By then I was well over 6' tall. At that point, it came to shoving matches and threats of punches. I think he punched me once, but I punched him back. By that time, the whole "Honor your father and mother" stuff had long gone out the window.

I don't know what caused my parents, but mostly my dad, to whip us like he did. I know he was beaten by his dad. Believe me, I'm not trying to make excuses for him. He had always felt that we thought we were better than he was. He dropped out of school shortly after the sixth grade and wasn't an educated man by any means. He had provided for us simply because he was a hard worker. In a way, he was right. All my life, I had never respected him, and, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't beat the respect into me. Now, no matter how hard I try, my brain won't let me forget that fat ignorant fucker. So, I guess he got the last laugh after all.

I'll Leave You With This

"Religion is flawed, because man is flawed". Goodnight.

Interesting Fact

On this day in 1852, Charles Taze Russell, the man that founded the religion now known as Jehovah's Witnesses, was born. In his day, it was still acceptable to celebrate birthdays. I wasn't able to celebrate my first one until the age of 31.

So, Happy Birthday, Chuck! Asshole.

Support For Gays In The Military Depends On How You Ask The Question

CBS News released an interesting poll last week. In it, they polled two groups of people and asked the same question, "Do you favor or oppose BLANK serving in the military?" With one group, they used the term "homosexuals", and with the other, they used the term "gay men and lesbians". The results were fascinating. When using the term "gay men and lesbians" people were more likely to say favor or strongly favor. Take a look at the results:



They also asked, "Do you favor or oppose BLANK being allowed to serve openly?" Here is what they found:



Why the difference? Some think ingrained prejudice. Years of church sermons have given people a prejudice toward the word "homosexual" that they normally wouldn't have toward "gay" or "lesbian". Homosexual, then, becomes a more negative sounding word.

I remember growing up, being told by my mother never to use the gay or lesbian, because "those are the words they want to be called". "God calls them homosexuals. That's what you call them." I never had the balls to tell my mom that God didn't speak Latin, so for all we know he could have called them cantaloupes using that line of thinking.

What about you? Think about it. Do you support homosexuals in the military? Or gays and lesbians in the military? Or both?

Women Can Be Tools - According To VH1

After two seasons of the same old gimmick, Tool Academy has decided to try something new. They're going Co-ed. The VH1 Neanderthal magnet has it's first lesbian tool. Don't get me wrong, I'm not considering this "Must See TV" by any stretch of the imagination, but if there is nothing else on at 3 in the morning, and I mean NOTHING else, I might watch it.

The problem I know I'm going to have with this is that, knowing VH1, it's not going to do anything to bring about a positive stereotype for lesbians. It's going to be generalized and sensationalized. Look at their other shows. You're not going to get positive role models from Rock of Love, Flavor of Love or I Love New York. Then again, I don't think people are going to look back twenty years from now and see Tool Academy as the turning point in gay and lesbian culture as portrayed in the media.

OK. I'm off of my soapbox. If you would like to check out the first episode, which aired this last Sunday, I've embedded it below. Enjoy.

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