September 30, 2006

Happy Fall Y'all

It's a wonderful day out there. It's one of those days when you can just smell Fall in the air. A crispness, a dryness, the promise of leaves on the ground, the remembrance of the scent of apple cider. It's sunny, but not hot. Just cool enough that you can wear a nice sweater and no jacket. You know there may be a few more shorts and short-sleeved shirts in the future, but this, this is the day when you know it's time to get all the fall and winter clothes out of storage, and put most of your summer clothes away. It's a day when your dog comes in from outside smelling of dog -- but it's a crisp, clean dog smell. The kind that just makes you smile when she comes up to you wagging her tail and wants to lick you and hop in your lap. It's a day when the cat lazes in the sun for hours, and doesn't get up because he gets too hot. It's a day that makes you want to wear orange, or brown, or green. It's a day that to some marks the beginning of the end of the year, but to me it's the promise of rebirth and growth. It's a time for new beginnings, and transformations. It makes you want to go out and experience new things, or learn something new. And best of all, it's a day that promises a night that you can leave your windows open, yet crawl into bed and get cozy under the heavy comforter.

It's a wonderful day that makes you go and get new things for your house. Like a new sepia print of a tree lined street that you'd see on one of the smaller streets in Germany, or New England. Or maybe a zen rocks and palms triptych for your guest bathroom. It's a day that makes you want to buy a nice royal blue sweatshirt. But you don't spend too much time at the mall, because you just want to be outside, or at home enjoying your family.

It's a day that you want to share with friends, and you wish them all the happiness, joy and contentment the day brought you.

Feeling Better

I stayed home from work yesterday. I slept like a banshee. I'm talking I went to bed at 11:00 the night before, and got up at 7:00 to call into work (after 3 trips to the greater toilet district). Then I went back to bed after chatting with Neil for about 30 minutes. I slept on and off until 6:20 pm. I probably would have slept longer, but the dog was shaking uncontrolably in bed. So, I figured she needed to go out for a walk. She peed twice -- I'm talking Tom Hanks in a League of Their Own type of release here. Then she promptly had doggie-diarrhea in the slightly forested area near the tennis court. I've heard of dogs looking like their owners, but this is ridiculous. She's doing better now too.

Major Texas and I ordered a pizza and watched Doctor Who on Sci-Fi. Those crazy brits. Story line: good. Special effects: Cheddar. M.T. then checked some e-mail or whatever it is he does on the computer, and I fired up the new game I got for my PS2. All in all it was a very relaxing day/evening yesterday. It's rare that the both of us just get to kick back and relax and do the things we like to do for fun. A veritable Rockwell painting -- cat sleeping on the back of the couch, dog sleeping underneath him on the couch. M.T. and I relaxing.

Now we're getting ready to head down to Woodrbridge and maybe go to Ikea. I definately need to go to the Polo store and get a new sweatshirt. I realized that my favorite sweatshirt has definately seen better days, and needs to be replaced. The cuffs are fraying and it's got a lot of holes in the seems. I figure it's got about a year of laying-around-the-house use left in it, but that leaves me without a nice one to wear out in public. So, AJ's tip for the day: get yourself to the Polo Factory Store (or any place that sells Polo) and get yourself a nice sweatshirt. They're about $30.00 if you catch a good sale, and they're the most comfortable thing you'll ever own.

I'm off to spend some money. May everyone have a good, shiny happy people type of day.

September 28, 2006

On the Lighter Side

I have a very practical jokish relationship with God. And I like to think God appreciates my sense of humor.

I say things like "I think God is really a fat, black, Jewish lesbian" over a nice lunch with friends. Said comment garners the appropriate laughs, and we pack up to go see Bruce Almighty in the theater. Half-way through the movie, God responds with her own joke. I kid you not -- one of my front teeth abcesses and I'm in mind-blinding pain. The obligatory trip to the ER to figure out what's causing the pain (because of course this happens on a Sunday), then the trip to the dentist, and then the endodonist for the root canal, and back to the dentist for a crown. So, God obviously got the joke and took umbrage with me calling her fat. Never call the Divine fat, it's a recipe for disaster, because God will take the one-ups-manship to the next level.

Now, I don't recall having made any God jokes in the past 48 hours. So, I'm completely at a loss for why my ass has decided it's a juicer. I'm sure I thought that Fred Phelps was a total nut-job and I most likely said it aloud, but I don't think that's the cause of my Divinely-visited ass-plague. But on the off chance that this another of your pratical jokes God: UNCLE .... UNCLE. MAKE IT STOP!!!! (and I won't ever call you fat again!)

See, wasn't that a lot more entertaining than me just saying I've come down with the stomach flu?

Follow Up

I made a comment in the post below about Religion, and after posting it I realized 2 things.

1) I didn't feel very good about it, as it stood, and
2) I felt it needed a bit of explination, so:

Let me start by saying that the word that best describes my religious views is agnostic. When I was younger (say around until the time I was 16 or 17) I was very involved in my local church and did all sorts of things with the Youth Group, and Church Camp and the whole nine-yards. Then I started too actually look around me and see what the people in my Church were actually doing, and I realized it was some pretty un-Christian stuff. The last straw for me was the bully-pulpit one Sunday about how we all needed to tithe more so we could have an elevator put in the Church. I stopped going shortly thereafter. Last year I was stricken from the membership rolls because I hadn't attended services in over 10 years (duh, I've lived in VA for the past 10 years, not OH). I actually got a letter informing me of this, and that if I wanted to keep my membership I could either "come to a worship service, or give the traditional tithe to the church".

I also became dissillusioned with the Church when I realized that I was gay. I read lots of books to see if my faith and who I am were compatible. I eventually had to decide to be true to myself, because no matter what I did that wasn't going to change. Things might have turned out differently if I had access to the books that have been published since the 1980's and the internet, but I worked with what I had. And what I had wasn't very helpful. There was one particularly good book -- I've long since forgotten the title -- but amidst the sea of fire and brimstone, it wasn't enough to help me keep the faith. As I did then, as I do now, I refuse to believe that just by being who I am that I am a sinner, and the only way to get to heaven is for me to be something, somebody I'm not.

After much exploring, I settled on the view that every human has a spark of the divine in them. And if you listen close enough that spark can give you guidance and direction in life. It's kind of like deified self-reliance or spiritual individualism. Maybe it's just Senor Holy Ghost talking to me in my mind. It's kind of hard to explain, but it keeps me centered.

The long and the short of it boils down to: I've seen (and experienced) how institutioanlized religion is used to marginalize, demonize and manipulate people, so I'm always very mistrustful of it. I hate seeing whole Churches use Bible passages they don't even put in context to vilify whole groups of people. Even more, I hate seeing politicians using people's religious beliefs to further their own goals.

A person's relationship with the Divine should be personal and private, and not used to steer public policy. And I respect every person's relationship with their Faith.

So, if my previous post came across as being antagonistic towards Religion, now you know why.

Do You Smell That?

It must be election season.

I just read this and I'm alternatingly baffled and pissed off.

Greatest Threat? I don't think so. With all the other problems facing our country, that she would even make this claim is just sheer political pandering: Gotta keep the right-wing religio-nut jobs in a constant state of fear or we're gonna lose this election.

My apologies to my readers of Faith, but it's crap like this that makes me feel totally justified in thinking that Religion is a very bad thing. Or perhaps I should clarify and say the manipulation of people's religious beliefs is a very bad thing. Of course, this wouldn't be an issue if religion didn't exist.

PT, Part 2

The PT gods giveth and they taketh away.

The most excellent:
-- Each time I go, now I will get a head/neck/shoulders massage ... for 30 minutes.

The most heinous:
--They've added a new set of exercises to my list. And they're all painful. I'll stick a rolled towel under your shoulder blades and make you wave your arms around like a cheerleader on speed and see how much you like little miss perky gym leader.

In summary, I felt really good at the end of my first 30 minutes of PT (even got rid of my headache), but the second 30 minutes were torture. Screw the necksercises for today, I'm taking a nap.

[UPDATE:] I actually have 2 separate PT people treating me. Think along the lines of good cop, bad cop. The good one gives me neck massages, the bad one makes me use the arm bike and do painful stretches. But I know they're working as a team, so I know the evil is widespread and invasive.

September 27, 2006

Thank You for the Music

Just a quick note to thank everyone that's come by over the past few days, cased the joint, and left a comment or 2!

THANKS!

I'll respond to some of the comments a little bit later. I'm playing catch up at work today, because I have to get a lot done before I leave at noon for my PT appointment -- which is on the other side of town (near my house), so I won't be returning to work once I'm finished with PT. Kind of sad that I have to leave at noon to make a 2:30 appointment, no?

And for the record, this is a no-trepanning zone. Ice cream scoops are used solely for ice-cream -- or feel free to club each other with them, I don't care. Just don't scoop each others' brains out. Because I really don't want to have to say:

Don't make me pull this blog over! If you don't stop trepanning your sister, we're going right back to the house and no Chuck-E-Cheese for you!

September 26, 2006

A New Look

I chose a new template for the fall season. Hope you all like.

And I think it's a bit easier to read than the other one was. I'll eventually get around to cleaning up the links on the side of the page.

I've Been a Bad AJ

So I haven't been doing my necksercizes. Not even a little bit.

I know I should be, but somehow I just don't find the time in the day to tilt my head to the side and hold for 5 seconds. Plus all the other random combinations of tilt and hold that I'm supposed to be doing. I better do them today, because I've got PT tomorrow.

At least I have started sleeping on my side. So I can say to the PT people that I have done something that they've told me to do. The down side to this is the dog now has room on the bed to curl up next to me while I'm sleeping. And she's a bed hog.

Make Me Some Butter!

This is totally lame.

September 21, 2006

Gifts

Don't you just hate it when you have the perfect gift idea for someone, and then vendors refuse to comply with your desire to go to said store and acquire the gift you have in mind?

I suppose I shouldn't complain too much. I was able to purchase 50% of the gift I had in mind. If I chose to continue with the original plan, I'll have to special order the other item. Or it might be time to go back to the drawing board and revise this idea. And I do have some other ideas.

So, if the birthday person reads this post, know that I've been plotting your b-day and have been partially thwarted by the retail powers that be. Maybe I'll just have to get you a pink and purple polkadotted thong instead -- cause everyone loves ass-floss on their birthday.

Money Can Buy Happiness

What's really cool, and comes in an awesome blue tin?
...
...
...
Give up?

Why, it's the first 15 episodes of Voltron, of course! It's the Blue Lion collection. And the next collection will be out in November. This was my all time, bestest ever, most favorite cartoon when I was kid. And now I own it on DVD. I may just have to hide under the blankets and watch TV all night tonight.

Form feet and legs. Form arms and torso. And I'll form the head! Let's go Voltron Force!

Let the Healing Commence

I had my very first Physical Therapy session this morning. The first of at least 8 to be exact. All in all, it wasn't a bad experience. I have my own "case-worker" -- for lack of a better word, that will evaluate me each and every time I go to the clinic. There's also a PT instructor assigned to me, who's given me very specific excerises to do while I'm there, and also 2 times a day when I don't have PT.

I'll admit I was a little leary of the whole PT thing at first. It seems/ed a little too granola/she-she-la-la for my tastes. I guess at heart I'm a cut-em-open and slice out the offending problem type of guy. But I am willing to at least see if this PT stuff will work.

And Sarah will love the fact that part of my training routine involves the arm-bike ... otherwise known as the Arm-a-lator 4000. We used to watch the people across the alley in our old office on the Armatron and make fun of them. I deeply regret that -- the arm machine is no joke. That thing hurts! After 5 minutes my arms were on fire.

I'll keep a running update of my PT-saga. And to date, I don't think they like anything about me. I was told I need to improve my posture, my work space, and how I sleep. I can't even sleep correctly. And here I thought all one had to do was lay down. Apparently, laying on your stomach is verboten.

Here's to a new and improved me.

September 14, 2006

How not to do business

I'll try to keep this one short and sweet.

Nintendo has been working on the latest Zelda Game, for ages. It was due out in 2005, but they announced a delay to improve the title, and told fans to expect it in early 2006. Well, at E3 they announced their new news:

The Wii (their new console)[and what the hell type of name is Wii, anyway?!?!) will be released later this year (date to follow). Also, we've decided that the Zelda game will be released simulataneously for the Game Cube and the Wii on the Wii's launch date.

We now have a launch date for the Wii -- November 19th. But Nintendo has decided that only the Wii version of the Zelda game will be released on November 19th. Game Cube owners have to wait until Dec. 11th to get the game.

So, in summary -- you announce a game for a specific platform, then delay that game by over a year to improve it. During that year you're not really improving it, you're porting it to your new game system (which costs $250) and then you decide that you're going to make your currently installed user base wait 3 extra weeks for the game in the hopes that they'll buy a Wii and the game for the Wii, instead of waiting for the Game Cube game.

Well, Nintendo -- you lose. You fail. You see, I am going to by the Game Cube Version because I own a Game Cube, and over the past 3 years that I've owned one I've bought exactly 4 games for the system. You are not getting any more of my money outside of this next Zelda. And with your new controler the "wii-mote" where you actually have to hack and slash with the remote to make your character do things? -- that's a gimmick, not good game play. That'll get old real quick.

East Siiiiiiiiii-de!

I like following hurricane news. I like reading about natural disasters. I like reading weather.com. And I must say, I'm very disappointed with the Atlantic this year. What's wrong with you Atlantic? You're only up to Hurricane Gordon (no threat to land) and Hurri-something Helene (which may or may not destroy things.)

I'd like you my dear Atlantic, to take a good look at your sister -- the Pacific. She's been busy this year. She's already up to Tropical Storm Lane. That means she's 4 storms ahead of you. Yes, you may have produced Katrina, Rita and Wilma last year, but the Pacific gave us Typhoon Longwang. -- We'll call that one a draw. But you're losing this year, and you just can't rest on your laurels.

Besides, the "k" storm for you this year is "kirk," and I want to see the following headline:

Hurricane Kirk (Cameron) blows and blusters in South Beach.

So get to churning! My edu-tainment is depending on you!

Doctors always ask the wrong questions

I had a nice little 2 hour expedition to the Orthopedic Doctor's office yesterday. I brought them the results of the MRI I had done last Friday and they told me what the plan of attack is going to be for fixing my broke-butt neck. As an aside, MRIs are one of the most heinous forms of torture medical proceedures that exist. It's like the Iron Maiden minus the spikes.

Anyway, my doctor was a little surprised that the MRI technician never told me the results of the MRI, and he explained to me that I do indeed have a herniated disk (C 5-6). I get to go to physical therapy for the next 4 weeks and also have injections of steriods directly into the affected part of my neck.

Which brings me to my point about doctors asking the wrong questions. He asked me "Are you OK with needles?" I honestly responded "Yes, they don't really bother me." The question he needed to ask was "Are you OK with needles in your neck?" Which, of course, I'm not. But it's a lot better than surgery.

Finally, my course of treatment has elicited all sorts of unwanted "advice" from my boss. First there are the stories about how "so-and-so had this proceedure done and it wasn't so bad" to stories about "PT is useless." There's also the "you don't need all those drugs, just Motrin will suffice." And my favorites: "You should use the PT in the same complex as our office," and "You need to schedule your PT appointments around when I want you at work -- it'll mean you have to take more sick and/or vacation time, but that's what I think you should do."

Everyone's a critic.

September 6, 2006

Nerd Phantasia

Ecce Geekonem: Rejoice!

Voltron is coming to DVD this September.
Dungeons and Dragons (the cartoon) is coming to DVD this September.
Battlestar Galactica Season 2.5 is coming to DVD this September.

Steven Erickson's new book House of Chains is out in bookstores now.

Square-Enix's sequel to Valkerie Profile is coming to the PS2 in late September.
Final Fantasy XII for the PS2 is coming out in November.
The new Zelda for GameCube, et. al is out sometime this fall.

The new season of Battlestar Galactica airs new episodes on October 6.

Also, pick up a copy of Valkerie Profile: Lenneth for the PSP it's really entertaining.

All this should be enough to keep me YOU entertained for months to come.

Random Thoughts

I've been trolling the threads over at Fark and things were getting kind of heated (and interesting) in one of the Steve Irwin threads -- so it's related to yesterday's posting, but not really a follow-up.

The farkers seem to be divided into 2 distinct camps: those who think Irwin was a veritable man of giant bronze cajones, and those who think the man was an idiot deserving of a Darwin Award. The cajones camp are irritated that Darwinians are "disrespecting" him in death, and argue that Irwin can't be a recepient of a Darwin Award because he has spawned 2 kids. The Darwinites make jokes and say he can get and is deserving of a Darwin Award. They are fighting like wet cats in a sack. Which brings me to my random thought for the day: The Darwin Awards.

Some farker was kind enough to cut and paste a section from the Darwin Awards website that details what makes one eligible for a Darwin Award, and it clearly states that you can have offspring and still get a Darwin Award. Yet many over there are claiming "Well, those are the "rules" for an Award, but I think they're wrong and they just don't understand Darwinism/natural selection, and I know better, so my beliefs are the right ones." OK, what are these people not getting about the rules that the creator of the Darwin Awards set down? Everything has rules, and whether or not you agree with them doesn't mean they don't apply. It really is that simple.

Besides, the way I understand natural selection is that certain traits/genes end up being eliminated from the gene pool because they have some disadventageous affect for the affected organism(s). So, Irwin had 2 kids -- big deal. That does not mean he passed his "let's go out and poke at venemous spiders" gene on to his kids. They could grow up to be complete non-risk takers. So, you can still have kids sans the defective gene, and naturally select that gene out of the pool (in this case barb to the heart) and that particular trait from your genetic line has not contaminated the gene pool.

Additionally, creatures with maladaptive genes reproduce all the time -- yet over time those better suited to the environment produce more offspring and eventually the trait is eliminated from the gene pool. While it can happen in a single generation, it can also happen over time.

It also makes me think about this. I have an identical twin who has a nephew, but I have no kids of my own. If I die by some stupid act of my own which is Darwin Award worthy -- am I ineligible? Technically, my nephew carries 50% of my genes, so I live on in the gene pool. And what about those people who have may have siblings they don't know about? Because if the fark-darwinianin purists who worship Irwin's giant brass-ones have their say, the trait has to be eliminated completely from the gene pool. In which case, only people with the last existing copy of a Darwin Award gene who kill themselves in a remarkably spectaluar method are eligible for an Award.

And finally, Cojone Purists -- get a grip! The Darwin Awards are loosely based on evolutionary principles and are used as a means to poke fun at the stupid things that people do, which usually results in their (un)timely demise. To wit:

The weather's a little too rough to go out in the deep sea where we were going to film today, so let's take this time to get some footage about stingrays for another show I'm doing. Let's go to a place where we know they are and there are lots of them -- swimming around, hiding on the sea bed, you know just doing their whole manta ray thing in their natural manta ray environment. And then let's take a gander at one of the largest bull male manta rays we can find. Now, no one should be surprised that Mr. Irwin got stung! It is a little shocking that the ray managed a heart blow, but this is not surprising. Smart people avoid dangerous creatures. Smart people don't swim in ray infested waters. Smart people, well, they read the article that is actually linked to at Fark, and get all the facts before they open their mouths!

My Very First Comment

I feel so special. I got my very first comment. Too bad it was spam about making more money. In the post about how I have a herniated disk.

You may all start laughing now.

I'm AJ, and I approve this message.

September 5, 2006

Man vs. Manta Ray

Frequently I watch those shows on Animal Planet that feature the world's most deadly or venemous animals and I wonder to myself. How much danger are the Steve Irwins and the Jeff Corwins actually in when they're messing around with these nasty creatures? What would actually happen to them if one attacked them when they were filming the documentary?

Thanks to Steve Irwin, I now have the answer to that question:

It was the Manta Ray, in the Great Barrier Reef, with the tail barb to the heart.

The media is calling this a "freak accident." Nothing really freakish about being attacked by a manta ray while swimming in manta ray infested waters with a camera crew and a bunch of other stuff that shouldn't be there. I'd actually call the end result inevitable. Mess with dangerous animals long enough and one of them will eventually kill you.

My condolences to his family.

My congratulations to all the bookies. I bet no one had a bet on "manta ray barb to the heart."

Old 'n' Busted

Once you turn 33, there must be some power (probably the Flying Spaghetti Monster) that automatically goes poof! voila! and now you are old and busted!

My left shoulder and neck have been bothering me for some time, being somewhat stiff and sore and a good day. On a bad day, all bets are off. Friday was a particulary bad day, and after my less-than-happy-making trip to the ER the Friday before, I decided I'd call my Primary Care Provider. He checked me out, looked at the X-rays from the ER, and:

VIOLA! Herniated Disk (no saving throw)

The good doctor ordered up an MRI for me (which is set for this coming Friday @ 11) and then referred me to an Orthopedic Something-or-Other Doctor to review the results of the MRI. (That will probably be on a Friday as well, because all this crap seems to happen on Fridays.)

Right now I'm a little nervous because I don't know what the course of treatment is going to be, how bad the situation is, etc. I've done some reasearch on the net, and I have some idea what to expect, it's just this not knowing what and how this applies to me that's driving me crazy.

Hopefully, this will be easily remedied. But I will say this to the concept of "Injection Therapy" that my doctor specifically mentioned

Ain't no way you're sticking big ass needles in my neck!

DO. NOT. WANT.