It's 7:21 in the pm on Friday night and I just stabbed myself with a needle and am bleeding all over the place and don't know what to do. Nah, I'm just pullin' your chain, joshin' with you, yankin' your josh.... hmmm, that last one's ambiguously gay, like the ambiguously gay duo, which was an awesome SNL cartoon. Anyway, what I actually did was poke the tip of my finger with a lancet pen, squeeze some blood out of it, and place the sample on a test strip inserted into my glucometer and wait five seconds. My blood sugar was 99!! 99 is an awesome number for a Diabetic because the normal amount of BS swimming through my veins should be in between 80-140. Kudos to me! All the alcohol and drugs don't have shit on me....
Anyway, I was looking at the tips of my fingers on my right hand and noticed a significant amount of scar tissue and badly closed needle pricks on all but the thumb. When I turned to my left-hand, all the fingers were in pristine condition, except for the callouses, which I can thank my fretboard for. This little discovery, while not a huge deal by any means, made me realize that I've been absent-mindedly only using my right hand to stab with needles for the past twelve years and that I should probably start pricking my left hand if I want to have any fingers on my right by the time i'm forty. Stupid fucking Diabetes and worthless pancreas making me feel like shit-balls everyday.
Anyway, The point is that being left-handed never really crosses my mind unless some kind of incident like this occurs. It's kinda nuts because when I'm sitting in class and everyone is writing notes, it never crosses my mind to look at who's using which hand. Also, most people don't care, but it's weird to think that being left-handed used to be a sign of retardedness, or that it was the Devil's hand. I'm sure Hitler would have chopped it off or incinerated me if I lived in 1940s Germany, and that's not even considering that I have a disease and am adopted HA. Seriously, historically speaking, King George IV of England was forced to change his writing hand as a child and ended up developing dyslexia and stuttering. No SHIT. Us left-handers even have a holiday on August 13th that celebrates our RIGHT to be LEFTY.
While I actually have a train of thought, here's some other random facts about the south paw:
When a lefty doodles or draws cartoons while he's supposed to be taking notes or paying attention, the figures are drawn facing right (mostly). Also, leftys's eyes adjust more readily to seeing underwater. Our best sports are tennis, baseball, swimming, and fencing, but I have no idea why (it's probably better hand-eye coordination or something). Oh yeah, and we reach puberty about five months after normal dudes. We also are wired to the right side of our brain, which means we're more creative and artistic. We're also the best at having sex...(i made that one up).
In case you noticed earlier that I said my left-hand had callouses from the fretboard on my guitar, then you'd realize that I actually play the guitar right-handed. But, in my defense, I bat, field, and throw lefty in baseball, dribble lefty in basketball because I literally suck balls at dribbling righty, I write lefty, hold the phone lefty, smoke lefty, and drink lefty. The only thing I do right-handed is play guitar and that's because the guy told me when I was 14 that it didn't matter to have a left-handed guitar if I've never played before. So HA, oh yeah I also jack off righty, I just can't do it left, nope not even a switch hitter.
Man, I can't stop listening to Banner Pilot's Collapser; it's so badass. Anyway, I have to go read the Wide Sargasso Sea and then try to find something to do on a Friday Night. This normally shouldnt be a problem, but since I live with my parents, have a busted car, and not much money, it's a little tougher these days. BALLS.
Friday, October 9, 2009
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
THE PEACE CORPS Separation Anxiety
I just got back from my late night grad school classes and after four hours of nonstop information brain stuffing, I need to let some other issues ooze out of my skull to make room for the new stuff, ya feel me?
Anywho, So my girlfriend and I have been friends for four years and have been dating for a little over two of those four years. We've pretty much known each other for all four years of college and have remained together after graduation even though she lives in Chicago and I live in Cleveland. Over the summer, we were actually able to see each other several times because of this sweet new Midwestern Bus service called MEGABUS. It's way cheaper than the greyhound, is a double-decker, really nice and comfortable inside, and doesnt smell like homeless people and farts like the greyhound. So the bus goes from Cleveland to Toledo to Chicago and from Chicago you can go to Minneapolis, Indianapolis, St. Louis, etc. etc. I can't remember the other locations but you get the idea.
So, we were able to visit each other for about a week at a time all summer; she came to my house twice and I went out to her place twice. If you're still reading by now, you're probably thinking "what the fuck is he talking about and where is he going with this?" Well, over the last few months of our senior year, Allison (that's her name by the way and she's also an English major, that's kinda how we met, well that and we both used to smoke a lot of weed) was making a hundred doctor's appointments and constantly freaking about all these medical forms and background checks and shit and always on the phone with her mom because she decided to join the peace corps after college because she wasn't really sure what she wanted to do, but she's a very self-less person with a huge heart and wanted to help people. I was totally and am totally cool with that, but it's pretty exclusive nowadays (as opposed to when Kennedy first designed it and everybody and their uncle could join with a blink of the eye) so I was worried that all the time she put in applying would be "in vein"(a reference to the unholy trinity). Well, over the summer she finally got the confirmation and she called me and told me the good news and i was pumped and then she said she was going to be in the Ukraine for two years straight... yeah the fucking Ukraine.
Immediately, a film I recently watched, "The Sum of All Fears" with Ben Affleck and Morgan Freeman came to mind because the Aryan Neo-Nazis are re-constructing a nuclear weapon in the the Ukraine in order to blow it up in the USA and make it look like Russia did it, in order to re-start the Cold War hostilities to make the two countries destroy each other so the Nazis can regain power, which is an alright plot, I guess. What's weird about it though is that it's based on the Tom Clancy novel and the character Jack Ryan. I'm used to Jack Ryan being played by Harrison Ford in the films "Patriot Games" and "Clear and Present Danger" where he's a huge badass. So, having Ben Affleck play the same character is a little off-setting, but I digress. The Eastern Europe scene in Euro-trip also came to mind, where it's all depressing and war-torn and crappy and miserable and shit. I also made a mental note of where the Ukraine is and how it's just a black sea away from the middle east.
But anyway, she left about two weeks ago and I've only been able to speak with her once because their time zone is around 7 hours after ours, so our schedules are still bass ackwards. Another issue is that calling the Ukraine costs a truck load of cash and using a phone card is a pain in the ass. Here's why: first of all you have to dial a long access number, then the card's pin, then you have to dial the country code, then the area code, then the number and after that there's a 99% chance that it gets fucked up and you have to redial the whole damn thing and lose minutes that you never got to actually use. Plus, she is living with a host family that doesnt speak any english whatsoever and she lives on a farm with four other peace keepers and they have to take sponge baths and shit. Honestly, I don't mind the farm and the spongebaths because that's kinda cool, I guess, to live a totally different lifestyle other than the spoiled selfish American kind. The biggest problem is that we both downloaded skype and got webcams so we can still have like weekly internet dates, but there is no internet where she is and the nearest city is twenty minutes away (probably traveling by horse and buggy or a mule cart or something). So even if she can get to the city, she's not allowed to leave until towards the end of october because she's doing all this language and acclimation classes full-time.
So, why not send each other letters? Well, I've emailed her a few times before realizing that she won't be able to respond for quite sometime. During the five minutes that I have been able to speak with her on the phone during the one instance where I actually got her call and wasn't sleeping or in class, I learned that there is a post office near her. Unfortunately, because she's been playing charades with the Ukrainians, she isn't sure if she's successfully been able to send the letters she wrote, and if she did, they won't get to me for around two weeks. When I asked her to tell me her address so I cant write letters, she told me she wrote it in the letters she sent and that they were too complicated to tell me over the phone, especially since her minutes were running out.
Wow, what a rant. My basic point is that I miss my best friend/girlfriend terribly, can't really communicate with her, and so it bums me out. But, I am super proud of her for being a badass adventurer and traveling to the other side of the globe to teach these eastern European kids English; it's actually really sexy. Unfortunately, I don't get to see her for two years unless I save enough money to fly out there and visit her (which I am planning on figuring out and doing sometime in the future, maybe next summer). So Good Luck Al!!
Anywho, So my girlfriend and I have been friends for four years and have been dating for a little over two of those four years. We've pretty much known each other for all four years of college and have remained together after graduation even though she lives in Chicago and I live in Cleveland. Over the summer, we were actually able to see each other several times because of this sweet new Midwestern Bus service called MEGABUS. It's way cheaper than the greyhound, is a double-decker, really nice and comfortable inside, and doesnt smell like homeless people and farts like the greyhound. So the bus goes from Cleveland to Toledo to Chicago and from Chicago you can go to Minneapolis, Indianapolis, St. Louis, etc. etc. I can't remember the other locations but you get the idea.
So, we were able to visit each other for about a week at a time all summer; she came to my house twice and I went out to her place twice. If you're still reading by now, you're probably thinking "what the fuck is he talking about and where is he going with this?" Well, over the last few months of our senior year, Allison (that's her name by the way and she's also an English major, that's kinda how we met, well that and we both used to smoke a lot of weed) was making a hundred doctor's appointments and constantly freaking about all these medical forms and background checks and shit and always on the phone with her mom because she decided to join the peace corps after college because she wasn't really sure what she wanted to do, but she's a very self-less person with a huge heart and wanted to help people. I was totally and am totally cool with that, but it's pretty exclusive nowadays (as opposed to when Kennedy first designed it and everybody and their uncle could join with a blink of the eye) so I was worried that all the time she put in applying would be "in vein"(a reference to the unholy trinity). Well, over the summer she finally got the confirmation and she called me and told me the good news and i was pumped and then she said she was going to be in the Ukraine for two years straight... yeah the fucking Ukraine.
Immediately, a film I recently watched, "The Sum of All Fears" with Ben Affleck and Morgan Freeman came to mind because the Aryan Neo-Nazis are re-constructing a nuclear weapon in the the Ukraine in order to blow it up in the USA and make it look like Russia did it, in order to re-start the Cold War hostilities to make the two countries destroy each other so the Nazis can regain power, which is an alright plot, I guess. What's weird about it though is that it's based on the Tom Clancy novel and the character Jack Ryan. I'm used to Jack Ryan being played by Harrison Ford in the films "Patriot Games" and "Clear and Present Danger" where he's a huge badass. So, having Ben Affleck play the same character is a little off-setting, but I digress. The Eastern Europe scene in Euro-trip also came to mind, where it's all depressing and war-torn and crappy and miserable and shit. I also made a mental note of where the Ukraine is and how it's just a black sea away from the middle east.
But anyway, she left about two weeks ago and I've only been able to speak with her once because their time zone is around 7 hours after ours, so our schedules are still bass ackwards. Another issue is that calling the Ukraine costs a truck load of cash and using a phone card is a pain in the ass. Here's why: first of all you have to dial a long access number, then the card's pin, then you have to dial the country code, then the area code, then the number and after that there's a 99% chance that it gets fucked up and you have to redial the whole damn thing and lose minutes that you never got to actually use. Plus, she is living with a host family that doesnt speak any english whatsoever and she lives on a farm with four other peace keepers and they have to take sponge baths and shit. Honestly, I don't mind the farm and the spongebaths because that's kinda cool, I guess, to live a totally different lifestyle other than the spoiled selfish American kind. The biggest problem is that we both downloaded skype and got webcams so we can still have like weekly internet dates, but there is no internet where she is and the nearest city is twenty minutes away (probably traveling by horse and buggy or a mule cart or something). So even if she can get to the city, she's not allowed to leave until towards the end of october because she's doing all this language and acclimation classes full-time.
So, why not send each other letters? Well, I've emailed her a few times before realizing that she won't be able to respond for quite sometime. During the five minutes that I have been able to speak with her on the phone during the one instance where I actually got her call and wasn't sleeping or in class, I learned that there is a post office near her. Unfortunately, because she's been playing charades with the Ukrainians, she isn't sure if she's successfully been able to send the letters she wrote, and if she did, they won't get to me for around two weeks. When I asked her to tell me her address so I cant write letters, she told me she wrote it in the letters she sent and that they were too complicated to tell me over the phone, especially since her minutes were running out.
Wow, what a rant. My basic point is that I miss my best friend/girlfriend terribly, can't really communicate with her, and so it bums me out. But, I am super proud of her for being a badass adventurer and traveling to the other side of the globe to teach these eastern European kids English; it's actually really sexy. Unfortunately, I don't get to see her for two years unless I save enough money to fly out there and visit her (which I am planning on figuring out and doing sometime in the future, maybe next summer). So Good Luck Al!!
Sugar Kicks My Ass
My name's Matt. I live in a suburb about fifteen minutes west from downtown Cleveland, Ohio. I am twenty-two years old, have recently graduated from a pretty kick-ass university in Dayton, Ohio, and currently live at home with my brother and parents....yeah sounds sweet right?
I don't know whether or not this is cliche, but although I have a degree in English and film studies, and enjoy writing creatively and academically, I never imagined that I would ever end up writing a blog. Actually, I loathed and despised people who blogged on the internet because I always felt like blogs were forums for douchers who didn't have any friends and who felt the need to bitch about shit on the internet with the hopes that someone else on an equally doucher status would respond or argue with opinions of the former in order to feel that their lives were worthwhile.
Wow, after reading what I just wrote out loud to myself, it sounds really fuckin' mean, but I guess that was really the way I felt about blogs when they first came out and if and when I gave them any kind of thought at all. Anyway, I don't entirely feel that way anymore, obviously since I'm actually buckling down and writing one, but the reason I am is because of a blog, which I was originally forced to read, but now look forward to reading everyday: The Bad Sandwich Chronicles.
So, about six months or so ago, my brother comes up to me and says, "Dude, you gotta read Brendan Kelly's blog online, it's fucking amazing." So, I say, "You mean Brendan Kelly from the Lawrence Arms and the Falcon?" My brother says, "Yeah." I reply, "Chris, just because I am a fan of the dude's band and of Chicago, and of most of the punk/rock/drunk rock bands from Chicago, doesn't mean that I'm gonna give a shit about reading their singer/bassist's random rantings about whatever. I think blogs are stupid, if you need to talk about shit, talk to your friends or other people, don't bitch on the internet." So, my brother says, "Dude, you're such an asshole, just read it, it'll take like a couple of minutes, you're not doing shit anyway."
It was true, I wasn't doing shit and really had no reason not to read it besides for the fact that I always had a resentful and unwarranted HATE for blogs and bloggers, although I don't remember ever reading one up until that point. Honestly, I was probably about to watch some porn or watch Family Guy or South Park episodes online, or go on YOUTUBE and watch live Alkaline Trio videos, so to do a favor for my brother, who only wished I read a blog for my own pleasure, was something I could handle.
So, he had me read Brendan Kelly's blog. Unfortunately, I can't remember exactly when it was or what it was about, but I feel like it dealt with tearing apart pretentious, angry scenester kids who always act like the world is persecuting them for being different and who act like they're all about the music and about treating people fairly, when they're really the most judgemental and hypocritical shitheads around who think that if anyone doesn't like exactly what they like, music-wise, then those people are either dumb or don't know anything about music, or suck.
Anyway, that's what I think it was about, or maybe that's just what's in my head, I don't know. Either way, BSC changed my perspective on what a blog could and should be: Intelligent, hilarious, and spot-on critiques or anecdotes, written very well, and with a purpose to relate serious life issues and events to others in a way which attempts to explain or figure or just bullshit out a comprehensive meaning behind all the little things and stupid people that happen that make you who you are as a person and putting them out there to see if anyone else has an intelligent response to what was written or said. Sorry, the sentence structure and syntax of that last line is kind of ridiculous, but Brendan Kelly is one of the most gifted story-tellers and song writers out there and I think everybody should read his blog, because he inspired me to write one.
Anyway, as you may be able to tell, I have a few blog entries with nothing on them because everytime I went to write, I kept thinking I shouldnt and kept pussying out, but now I'm for sure doing it, yay for me for not being a pussy. Oh yeah, the title of my blog and the title of this post both have to do with the fact that I have Type I Diabetes, and have had it since I was ten; so for twelve years. I drink and smoke, which are both terrible things for a Diabetic to do, and sugar kicks my ass, which is a joke with my friends, but is actually kind of sad. I'll probably write a lot about how much I hate Diabetes and how my piece of shit pancreas has fucked up my life on several occasions. Until then, Peace in the Middle East and if you don't read my blog, which I really don't care if you do or not, please at least read Brendan Kelly's: It's a fucking revelation and he needs to publish a book about all the fucked up shit that swims around in his mind.
I don't know whether or not this is cliche, but although I have a degree in English and film studies, and enjoy writing creatively and academically, I never imagined that I would ever end up writing a blog. Actually, I loathed and despised people who blogged on the internet because I always felt like blogs were forums for douchers who didn't have any friends and who felt the need to bitch about shit on the internet with the hopes that someone else on an equally doucher status would respond or argue with opinions of the former in order to feel that their lives were worthwhile.
Wow, after reading what I just wrote out loud to myself, it sounds really fuckin' mean, but I guess that was really the way I felt about blogs when they first came out and if and when I gave them any kind of thought at all. Anyway, I don't entirely feel that way anymore, obviously since I'm actually buckling down and writing one, but the reason I am is because of a blog, which I was originally forced to read, but now look forward to reading everyday: The Bad Sandwich Chronicles.
So, about six months or so ago, my brother comes up to me and says, "Dude, you gotta read Brendan Kelly's blog online, it's fucking amazing." So, I say, "You mean Brendan Kelly from the Lawrence Arms and the Falcon?" My brother says, "Yeah." I reply, "Chris, just because I am a fan of the dude's band and of Chicago, and of most of the punk/rock/drunk rock bands from Chicago, doesn't mean that I'm gonna give a shit about reading their singer/bassist's random rantings about whatever. I think blogs are stupid, if you need to talk about shit, talk to your friends or other people, don't bitch on the internet." So, my brother says, "Dude, you're such an asshole, just read it, it'll take like a couple of minutes, you're not doing shit anyway."
It was true, I wasn't doing shit and really had no reason not to read it besides for the fact that I always had a resentful and unwarranted HATE for blogs and bloggers, although I don't remember ever reading one up until that point. Honestly, I was probably about to watch some porn or watch Family Guy or South Park episodes online, or go on YOUTUBE and watch live Alkaline Trio videos, so to do a favor for my brother, who only wished I read a blog for my own pleasure, was something I could handle.
So, he had me read Brendan Kelly's blog. Unfortunately, I can't remember exactly when it was or what it was about, but I feel like it dealt with tearing apart pretentious, angry scenester kids who always act like the world is persecuting them for being different and who act like they're all about the music and about treating people fairly, when they're really the most judgemental and hypocritical shitheads around who think that if anyone doesn't like exactly what they like, music-wise, then those people are either dumb or don't know anything about music, or suck.
Anyway, that's what I think it was about, or maybe that's just what's in my head, I don't know. Either way, BSC changed my perspective on what a blog could and should be: Intelligent, hilarious, and spot-on critiques or anecdotes, written very well, and with a purpose to relate serious life issues and events to others in a way which attempts to explain or figure or just bullshit out a comprehensive meaning behind all the little things and stupid people that happen that make you who you are as a person and putting them out there to see if anyone else has an intelligent response to what was written or said. Sorry, the sentence structure and syntax of that last line is kind of ridiculous, but Brendan Kelly is one of the most gifted story-tellers and song writers out there and I think everybody should read his blog, because he inspired me to write one.
Anyway, as you may be able to tell, I have a few blog entries with nothing on them because everytime I went to write, I kept thinking I shouldnt and kept pussying out, but now I'm for sure doing it, yay for me for not being a pussy. Oh yeah, the title of my blog and the title of this post both have to do with the fact that I have Type I Diabetes, and have had it since I was ten; so for twelve years. I drink and smoke, which are both terrible things for a Diabetic to do, and sugar kicks my ass, which is a joke with my friends, but is actually kind of sad. I'll probably write a lot about how much I hate Diabetes and how my piece of shit pancreas has fucked up my life on several occasions. Until then, Peace in the Middle East and if you don't read my blog, which I really don't care if you do or not, please at least read Brendan Kelly's: It's a fucking revelation and he needs to publish a book about all the fucked up shit that swims around in his mind.
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