What I don't like about Christmas...

Aside from the crowds and the shopping and all that... there's the music.
Each year it seems all the current big music names try to compete against each other in making the most depressing Christmas music compilation of all time. They say that this is a big suicide season, but they don't blame the music at this time of year, that would be downright nutty.
A few years ago, back when I could still get Northwestern Illinois University's radio station, they were playing Hanukkah/Chanukah music (check out that first link, it's fabulous). And unlike every Christmas sone I'd ever heard, this music made me want to boogie down.
Hanukkah music is SO much better than Christmas music, and I urge you all to buy a CD of it, slap on a yarmulka and and dance for eight wild nights.

I was reminded of my one experience with Jewish music today when I heard a Barry Manilow CD of Christmas music. I've never been a fan of Manilow in any sense of the word... growing up with Iron Maiden and other heavy metal bands, Manilow is a horrible nightmare for me.
But I must give him credit, FINALLY a famous music personality put out a collection of Christmas music that actaully sounds like it might not cause mass suicides.
Leave it to a Jew to get me to like something Christian....

And just for the record, my absolute favorite Christmas song is "The Little Drummer Boy" as performed by David Bowie and Bing Crosby. I don't know why I like that version of it... I despise that song when anyone else sings it.

Well, it's Thanksgiving...
I think that the only thing I am really thankful for is all the good times I'd had with M. Unfortunately I threw all that away a week and a half ago. It still feels like my heart is contstantly being cut out with a grapefruit spoon. I'd take it all back in a second if I could....

I'm tired, and I'm sitting here thinking about the one huge mistake I made today.
See, Carlos at work is such a homophobe, I've been doing what I can to make his life hell. It's almost second nature to act gay when he's around, fun too.

Today I was talking to Peter — he's the 2nd oldest man in the world — about marriage and stuff.

Me: I'll never get married, there's always some kind of problem with the women that I like.
Peter: Relax, you'll find the right person someday.
Me (getting an idea): Hey, you got any nieces or nephews?
*long, uncomfortable pause*
Me: umm... I meant only the nieces part, you know that right? Seriously, I don't care about nephews... stop looking at me like that!

So, I've sworn off making Carlos uncomfortable. I can't afford another slip like that..

This is the first time in a long time I can remember it snowing before Thanksgiving.
Everything's all white and pretty (except for near the roads where it's black and gross).
It's a shame it'll all be melted by tomorrow evening, but for one day everything looked fabulous.

It's this time of year that makes me wish I had that special someone to snuggle up to under a blanket, and watch the fireplace, and just be happy.

Well, concerning the comments and some more personal emails I recieved, I guess I got some explaining....

Q: Why don't you see a doctor for these migraines?
A: Well, the only reason that I have is because no one knows what actually causes them. The treatments they have are experimental, and aren't guaranteed. Think of it like this: you get a pulled muscle, you dope up with pain reliever, you keep using the muscle because it doesn't hurt... it takes longer to heal.
Pain is your bodies way of telling you to stop and using a brain that's going through a migraine.... nobody knows what could be happening to you.
After getting my hair cut from waist-length to "normal guy length" the frequency has seriously cut down from once a week to about once every 3+ months. Prior to the haircut I was unaware of medicine for migraines, and was (until about the last year) unaware they were migraines at all.

Q: What the fuck's wrong with you? How can you even think that about a kid?
A: Who know's where that thought came from. It was just there, and it frightened me. I was writing about migraines and their affect on me, and maybe while I was doing that I started thinking about what to get my neice for Xmas. Two thoughts crossed in my head and became one.
The truth is, I don't know where the thought came from, but I pray I never think it again.

Q: How can you think of gettin' it on when you have a migraine?
A: It's not a thought, it's an instinct. If I could think about it, I would think about something else, because doing what my instincts say hurts much more than lying in the dark trying to claw my brain out.
When I have a migraine, I become hyper-sensative. I can see perfectly, even though my vision is horrible, everything tastes great, I can smell a hundred layers of oder.... this may have something to do with it, I don't know.

Q: What if you did have kids? You'd run the risk of ruining their lives forever? Bastard!
A: If I had kids, I would do what needed to be done to ensure their safety. I don't take medication now because no one knows what will happen in 20 years to those who are currently on magraine meds. If I ran the risk of hurting anyone, I would be in the doctors office right now...
Now that I've thought of this horror, if I'm ever in a situation that I might spend extended time with children (like when I visit my sister in Michigan), I'll be sure to bring an ample supply of sleeping pills just in case I get a migraine.

What I mentioned was not a wish, or a hope, or a desire... it was a fear!
It's sad to think that I might be able to commit such an act, and to be honest... I don't think that I am. I would think intelligence would take over, but I can honestly say I don't know if I would, and anyone who gets the same reaction to migraines that I do and says they are positive they wouldn't do that is lying.
I've not used my roommate for "migraine relief" since we broke up (it's not relief anyways, it just makes me feel worse), although the thought is there.
During my pain, no one gets hurt except me and I chose to keep it until 1) medical science can figure out what causes a migraine, and can be sure their treatments don't do more harm than good, or 2) someone other than me stands the chance of getting hurt.

Hopefully you all understand this, and stop labeling me the monster that I am.

Another of my babies is dying... slowly. The doctors say he'll be ok eventually, but they always say that.

I've spent the whole day cuddling with Marty in front of the TV. He's constantly cold now. I pulled a blanket over us and he never moved except when I had to go to the bathroom, even then he barely moved.
Marty had hyper-thyroid something-or-other, but now he's hypo-thyroid. And the doctors can't seem to stabalize him with medicine.
I've been snuggling with him a lot lately, trying to keep him warm.
I just know I'm going to come home from work one day and find him unmoving, and I don't know if I could handle that.

I hate when I have migraines...

When I get them, there's two things I want: death, and sex. Preferably not in that order.
Last night I had my worst migraine in years. I went to a friends house to watch Panic Room and hang out, by the time the movie was over, I was curled into a ball whimpering. I should have gone home when it started, but that meant movement, and I couldn't do that... then the lights came on and I had to get out of there.
I barely remember driving home, but my car's here so I must have. I wonder if I can get a DUI for being under the influence of intense pain.
With this horrible pain, came the the need for sex. If my roommate was home when I got home I certainly would have tried to use her. That's not something I'm proud of, it's just how I get when I have a migraine. Thankfully she wasn't home, and I collapsed on the couch. I can usually get rid of a migraine through sleep, but I couldn't fall asleep, and kept trying to squeeze my head (it didn't help, so I don't know what I was doing).
When the roomie came home (loud as always) I muttered, "I have a migraine." I don't think that's what came out, but she understood and went in the other room quietly. Of course, I didn't say that to get her to go away... I'm sure I was hoping she'd "take care" of me, if you know what I mean. Of course, I could have followed her into the other room, and tried (hopefully, she would have pushed me away), but that would have meant getting up, and there was no way I was going ot move.

I should point out that I wasn't thinking something like, "I want sex with the roomie." Usually, no individual person would have mattered, any woman would do it. But this time I had M in my head. I wanted her to be the one.
Back when things were good between us, I'd mentioned my migraine problem to her... she'd said it sounded interesting, and wouldn't mind (well, at least not on a daily basis). Then after my last migraine, I told her what was going through my head and what I was "needing." She changed her mind about it then, but she's never had to live through it.
At least I'm not forceful when I have a migraine, and if I was I'd be easily defeatable because my eyes are closed and my hands are clutching my head.

The pain is still in the back of my head.... a dull throbbing that'll last several hours. This part of a migraine is interesting, because it's like I'm in a dream and nothing is real.

I thought of something absolutely horrible while writing this.... I probably shouldn't put it here, but that's what this is for.
I always thought that if I had kids, I'd want a daughter. I tell people it's so I can play with dolls (jokingly) but it's much more egotistical than that. Anyways.... what if I did have a daughter, and I got a migraine? What would I do?
Hell, even if I only considered her as an option.... I don't think I could live with myself. Just thinking about thinking about it now is making me sick and hateful of myself.
As much as I want to know the answer to this, fear tells me not to try and find out.

Rumors around work seem to be spreading about me.... and they're all the same thing: The new guy is gay.

It would be nice to say that these rumors are undeserved... but I suppose I did, sort of, ask for them.
See, it's like this... Carlos is constantly trying to make me flinch, which is quite easy because I'm a jittery little bugger. He thinks it's hysterical the way I'll dodge from his hand as he goes to scratch his head.
So one day last week, I was doing things to try to make him flinch... oh, I knew he wouldn't, because constantly throwing your hands in someones face and saying "boo" repeatedly just doesn't work. So I guess I was just trying to be annoying (a personal trait of mine).
All the while Carlos was saying things like, "I don't flinch," "you won't make me flinch," "see, I'm better than you," "blah, blah, blah."
Maybe five people were witnessing this wonderous event... and that's when I decided to prove him wrong.

I grabbed his face with both my hands, puckered up and went in for the kiss.
His macho, "I am steel" attitude quickly turned into a shriek of terror as he flew as far away from me as humanly possible.
"What's wrong with you," he said with a hint of anger, out of breath from fear, or excitement... it was hard to tell.
I just shrugged my shoulders and said, "made you flinch."

I'm not gay though... no, really.

Two people from work took me out for lunch today to try to cheer me up.
A full hour of jokes at my expense, I hadn't realized it was going to be a roast (and a small one at that). But I should have expected that since the person that invited me was my latest nemesis, Jacki (and no, I still do not have a thing for her).
After we returned to the office, and the torment they brought upon me was over... Jacki says to me, "see, it can be worse."
And it's true, for that hour, I'd forgotten all my misery and got lost in the jesting of my "tiny little head," and "jacket that makes me look gay" and other things.

But about a half an hour after we came back all the pain returned, tenfold. It felt like my heart was being cut out with a grapefruit spoon, my stomach churned to badly, I ran to the bathroom because I thought I was going to puke, I ended up drinking 5 cans of Pepsi� to try to cool off (the ice machine ice makes me sick, not that the Pepsi was doing any better) and my eyes were so full of tears that wouldn't cry that I couldn't see a damned thing. It's hell.

But at least, for that hour, I was able to push everything back in my mind and be myself. I didn't forget, I haven't forgotten her for a second for... a long, long time. But it was nice to be free for a little bit.
In my old job, nobody would have cared. They'd just shrug and say, "that's a shame," and walk away. I love this new job even when my world has fallen apart.... it seems wrong, but it's so nice.

I think I have made a horrible mistake.
All I want is to curl up into a ball and die.
I wish that I could feel her pain, too. Pain is all I deserve.

I don't drink much, alchohalism runs in my family
When I do, all I think about is all the mistakes I've made in my life, and I wonder if I can be forgiven.

Each day brings new monsters into this world. Today, I am one of them.

I ripped open my heart and carelessly threw away the pain. She still holds a piece of my heart that I gave her, it will always be hers to do with as she wishes. She also holds a peice of my soul, which I believe she was born with... if not, I would surely give it to her.

Telling the one person you can't live without that you are going to live without them is... Hell.
Your words fight your emotions, and madness is spoken.

Does she know that every word I'd spoken and written to her have been absolutly true?
Can she understand how deep my love for her is?

I would have given up everything I have for her... even now I would... she need only to ask.

I love you, M, with all my heart and all my soul.
You taught me to love. Helped me desire that which I never would before. Changed me for the better. You made me who I am today. And your memory will be with me for a thousand lifetimes.

Well, now that everyone sufficiently hates me....

The absolute best ice cream available on the open market is Breyer's vanilla. And anyone who says different doesn't know anything.
The second best ice cream is Baskin Robbins chocolate chip (which is really Deans, so I hear).
Other than that... ice cream just isn't worth eating. Oh sure, I'll eat other ice cream, but I won't be happy.

And that's my 2 cents.

A few posts ago Drunken Bull made this comment on my blog:
Why don't you go over to china and try to understand them when they speak to you in their native tongue.

My point, in that post, was not about visitors and tourists that don't understand the language... they're much smarter about it than the people who actually try to make a living here. I firmly believe that you can get a job in this country without knowing the national language is the most rediculous thing I've ever heard of.
I think that there should be a law that if you plan to stay here for over 3 months, you MUST be in a class to learn the the american-english language. Is it really too much to ask? Apparently so.
I know that if I were to attempt to live in France, I'd work like hell to learn the language, if only so I would know when they were talking about me.

Here's just a few of the problems I've had with the language barrier. I've had more, and I'm sure most of you readers have had similar problems.
1) I was in court, and one of the men before me claimed to be here for two years, but didn't speak a word of english. I think he was faking it to try to get out of the fine. But hey, two years, a valid license, and no english... no wonder he was speeding, he couldn't read the posted limits.
2) I went to the Burger King drive through at lunch. The guy in the pick-up in front of me placed his order, and after I'd placed mine, drove off. Telling the young woman at the window that the food she was trying to give me wasn't mine, she had to call her manager to translate. Lo and behold, he didn't understand english either.
3) White Castle, this summer. I'd gone to the drive through and ordered, among other things, a medium Coke. The drink was HUGE. I took it, foolishly and put it in my drink holder in my car, at the first turn there was Coke and ice all over my car, as the top-heavy design tumbled out of the cupholder and onto my floor. I'd thought they mistakenly given me a large, or ultra size.
I went back a few weeks later, went inside, ordered the same thing. And I got the same size drink...
Me: "No, I don't want one that big. Just give me a small."
Old Indian woman: *stares blankly*
Me: Just give me a small. And give the big one to the next customer.
Woman: *turns and gets her manager*
Me: Your medium is too big, just give me the small, don't worry about the 20 cents.
Some forgotten nationality man: But this is what you ordered.
Me: I understand, it was a mistake, I only want the small.
Man: But you ordered this.
Me: Pour the coke into a small cup and give me that instead.
Man (with utterly confused look): I'm going to have to charge you.
Me: uhh... whatever I don't want your damned pop on the floor of my car again.
Apparently "charge" meant "give you change." And we all know I needed that 20 cents.
5) I work with a guy, he's about 22 years old and hispanic. He grew up in Chicago, in a hispanic neighborhood. The other day, I said something and used the word "innocent." He asked what that means, and couldn't even pronounce the word!

I don't blame him for this... nor do I truly blame the others for their language difficulties. It is the fault of the government.
We are, as the Pledge of Allegiance states, "One Nation." Yet, how can we be a nation when nobody understands one another?
Write your congressman and beg them to pass a law stating that the national language MUST be known by anyone wishing to be employed in this country. And if you don't think it's fair that only foreigners need to learn a language, ask for the national language to be changed to esperanto.

Girl's voice: I'm coming.

I haven't heard voices like this since... let me think... 1989.
For three years I would hear voices... not every night, but most of them. It always seemed to be a different voice (sometimes male, sometimes female, almost always they sounded older than I).
It started after my sister got married, and I moved into her old bedroom. I was 16 a that time.
When I first heard the voices, I was scared. I would be lying in bed, my eyes closed, and I would here it. At first, I had no idea what was being said... and I was scared. I thought someone was in my room. I didn't move... eventually the fear waned and I fell asleep.
This happened many time, before I grew comfortable with the voices... I almost needed them to fall asleep after a while.
If I didn't spend a night in my room, they'd be gone for a few days after. If someone else spent a night in my room (like my grandmother, while I slept on the couch), I would miss them for a week. One time, when the parents were out of town, my girlfriend stayed with me in my room... the voices didn't come back for over a month.

It took some time before I could understand what they were saying... or, at least I think I understood. I'd kept a log of everything that was said, but a few years ago I felt that I had just imagined it all and threw it away. The words were almost nonsensical.
Some of what I remember were phrases like, "We're on the way to Grandma's house," and "Here comes Jobi."
Only once did I ever try to talk back... I'd already been asleep, and the voices woke me up.

Voice: Where do you keep the cheese?
Me: Huh?
Voice: Where do you keep the cheese?
Me: Huh?
Voice: Where do you keep the cheese?

After that I left it alone, I was very tired.

It wouldn't be until last year when I learned my sister had heard voices while staying in that room too. She was too afraid to tell everyone, what with the years of therepy and all.

The day I moved out, I told myself that if the voices ever came back, it was all in my head. They didn't come back... and I felt there was something attached to the house (only 2 years old when my parents bought it). Years passed and I never heard another voice, there or where I was living (oh, other things have happened, but that's a story for another time). Until last night....

What I heard last night made more sense than anything else I'd ever heard... does it mean anything? If so, what exactly? Will I hear something tonight? And where, indeed, do I keep the cheese?

Today, I am a plumber.
Thursday night a soft drip, drip from under my bathroom sink tipped me off that something was wrong.
I'd meant to fix it Friday night, but after leaving my lights on at work and running around trying to find someone who not only had jumper cables, but was also willing to use them, I was tired when I got home.

So I pulled everything out of the cabinet... all of it was my roommates, except for maybe the box of Band Aid's. Most of it got thrown out because it hasn't seen the light of day in 4 years, or because it was soggy.
I thought I'd found the problem Friday morning, as if the seal where the pipes connect had broken... sadly it wasn't that simple. It seems that one of the previous owners of this place had a little mishap, thereby cracking the pipe that goes from the trap to the wall. As soon as I tried to loosen the pipes, the whole thing just fell apart... rusted clean through.... and also rusted right onto the pipe in the wall. It's funny how rust acts as both a glue and a... umm... non-glue.
Took me a while to get that off, and involved me using a monkey wrench to bend the pipe so I could get a good grip. But of course it then wouldn't pull right out, because it was too long and ran into the pipe hanging off the sink.
grrr
Bend pipe again, and finally get the damned thing off.

Now's where I show just how stupid I can be. Off to Home Depot to buy some new pipes: a trap pipe thingy, and a in the wall thingy.
Of course I find the in the wall pipe right away... but where are the traps? Oh, in order to get the trap pipe you need to buy a little kit... well, I didn't want the kit, just the trap pipe.

Me: Excuse me....
Kid in orange apron: Yes?
Me (holding up rusted pipes I brought with): I'm trying to replace this, and I can find this one pipe, but I can't find the other one.
Kid (reaching down picking up a box/kit thing): Here.
Me: No no no, I just want the pipe, I don't need all of that.
Kid: This is the only way to get it.
Me: Why do I need to spend $7 when I only need half of that?
Kid: This is everything you need... including that other piece in your hand.
Me: oh

Who'd of thunk they'd make it all in one neat little box... well, I'm sure I would have if I had a brain.
But I wonder now... what if I only needed the trap? I'd still need to buy two pieces.... makes you wonder.

Of course, the box didn't contain everything I needed.... it was missing one of the washers, which I just took from the old pipes, but it probably won't last long, so I need to replace it soon.

I put everything back under the sink.... commented to the roommate that we can finally find things under there (after throwing out a full garbage bag of stuff). Her reply, "That won't last long." But it was the way she said it that really mad me mad, like she's proud that she's the biggest slob in the world, and is appalled that I don't appreciate that.
It made me mad enough to, yet again, consider finding an apartment. I think, maybe, I might be able to work it out with an understanding roommate who won't be too bothered by the fact that I might not be able to afford anything after 2 months. If you know anyone let me know.

Here's a list of some of the things I throw away from under the sink:

A half used roll of toilet paper (the unused portion).
A giant mail envelope with 15 unopened bottles of diet pills.
One opened bottle of diet pills
One wrapper from opened bottle of diet pills
One giant mailing envelope, empty
About 2 dozen loose cotton balls (I kept the unopened bag of cotton balls)
Hairspray, hairspray, hairspray
A knitting magazine
Moose, Gel, and other hair stuff
A brush (covered in cotton balls, wet)
A box of Band-Aids... actually useful, but very soggy, and probably not sanitary anymore
A jewlery box with a credit card inside
And finally, not 1... but 2 curling irons