PS-

This is old and not as personal as my other blog:

http://tamedtiger.blogspot.com

Wow.

So I put up this picture on Facebook with the caption, "If I were an intensely focused librarian..." A friend of mine, Jake, and my brother, Logan, had a fairly intense and fairly scientific discussion about my expression and all it entails.



Jake: isnt that ur normal expression?

Me: F*&^ you.

Logan: No, he's completely right. In fact, I think Dad has a picture of you making that face as you come out of the womb.

That really explains a lot. You sleep with that expression too, you know. I guess it's just natural.

You know, like those natural expressions that retards have? Yeah, a lot like that.

Jake: with an expresion like that, its no wonder she got confused. Once faced with confusion, the only reaction shd could make was anger. I wonder if she has retard strength when she gets angry...

Logan: Oh man, you have no idea. I mean, I'm her brother, I think I'd know better than most, but sweet jesus.

I wouldn't really call it retard "strength", since such a term isn't nearly extreme enough to describe the amount of power generated by such a colossal combination of extreme confusion coupled with extreme anger.

The only term I've ever made for it is "retard Hulk", goofy as it may sound. I still yearn to find a more scientific name for this incredible phenonenom. I'm also researching a way to harness such untold power, but I'm struggling with inventing a contraption strong enough to restrain her.... Read More

But, it's a vicious cycle. You know how those retards get when you imprison them... it merely feeds the retard rage, until they can muster enough power to break their bindings.

I think you can see the dire situation I am trapped in. We could bring free energy, forever, with such an invention. But, my mind is no match for the exponential strength of an ever-angered retard...

Jake: Based on what you have said, and universally accepted science, 1 retard = Lace = 1000 men's strength.

I do see what you are faced with, and it is no easy task indeed. To couple the strength of 1000 men into some beneficial device is no small feat. However, I must say that your concept is important, although it is lacking in scale. What say you to 1000 persons of retard strength (1000x 1000)? They could posess the ability to power cities if only given the means! Now this power lies in guidance. Brute force without an objective is purley that, a force, with no end. Now couple that extreme force with the guidance of wisdom, what you will have is true power. This is what I give you:

Imagine... 1000 Laces' pusing a giant, gear-like cog, churning at an alarming rate against a metal capacitor. The amount of static electricity achieved would be immense. You could potentially wrangle their power (Laces'), into electricity, and finally benefit the entire planet (much more than we can say for our current retard's (Lace)). Given this brute strength, there is no end to the potential of what we (the minds) could accomplish.... Read More

How? is the next question you might ask. This is a simple solution. Much like a horse who chases a carrot on a stick, Lace is this simple to manipulate. Simply place an object of her desire (aka pack of smokes or something with cheese or coffee in it) and she will march quickly towards it! It is sceince!

This is all it take to harness their (Lace/Retards) power!!!

Any thought and imput are appreciated, except from you Lace.

Logan: Dear god man! I believe this will change history and science forever!

My god! It never occured to me! It's so simple! Why harness the retards when you could make them willing to give their enery to us?!

You are a genius! It's so simple... why, of course it is, we're talking about retards here, and the largest of them all.... Read More

I believe the next step to take in this planning process is to build a few contraptions like mentioned above, and then we need to clone a few hundred Laces. This should be enough energy to push us over the edge into hyperspace technology, and time travel. We could finally explore the deepest reaches of the galaxies, and meet other life-forms!

Me: ....wow. I'm pretty sure you two should never speak again.




...I'm sure the discussion will continue. If you're on my facebook and would like to see the discussion evolve for yourself, you can view above image in my profile pictures.

Sigh.

Possibly... the one?

Won't let me save the pics, but here's the link to what I THINK might be my wedding dress.

Maybe.

Possibly.

Still haven't decided -- but I want feedback!

http://www.maggiesottero.com/dress.aspx?style=S5097

I can't help feeling

that I might be losing my grip on reality.

Matt's accident

So, basically, Matt was leaving our apartment to run to work really quick. He took the left out to the little straightaway that leads to the main road, Overland, but leaned too far to the left and then accelerated. He felt the bike was too far to the left, and felt the front tire coming up a little, so he let off the throttle completely.

Unfortunately, his skinny ass must've been too far to the back, because the bike kept coming up and was too far to the left. He felt himself slipping and instinctively grabbed on to something -- unfortunately.... that something was the throttle, and the bike jumped out from under him. He landed on the asphalt with his full weight on his face.

Miraculously, the only thing he broke (fractured) was his left pinky. He has road burn all over his face, a fat lip, a cool road burn "V" in his hair, a black eye, and a bruised left heel. More seriously, he has a concussion. He's been at the hospital for two nights and is scheduled to stay a third -- he was supposed to go home today but the doctor is keeping him, since he's really in and out with how aware and alert he is. He hasn't had any pain meds today, he's off his IV and anti-nausea meds, and finally got his catheter out (poor guy). He's just sleeping... a lot. He walked around, finally, but said he didn't like it because his sense of balance is so messed up that when he goes to set his feet down, he isn't sure when they're going to actually hit and it's really disorienting.

Mentally, he's here and there. Sometimes he's more alert than he has been since the accident, and other times it takes him a few seconds to even realize someone's talking to him, let alone think of an answer. It took him twenty min to remember who the current president is, and 12 hours to remember even getting on his bike that morning, but those are the only two things he's really had problems remembering now. At first he was repeating the same questions constantly (mostly, "Where's my bike? How bad is it?" ...of course), but he finally figured everything out. He's just... strange today.

Luckily, he has this next week off for vacation. He was planning on selling his car and scouting out the house we want to buy, but... that's not gonna happen. We probably won't be going to the Norma Jean/Haste the Day/The Showdown concert we already bought tickets for on Friday.

...but we're gonna try.


Anyway.

I'm glad I was smoking on the patio when it happened.
I heard it all, heard some old lady start yelling at him, "Are you okay?! Are you okay?!!" and dropped everything I was holding, sprinted around the corner, and stopped when I saw the distance between him and his bike. His legs were twisted around each other and his left arm was at a horrible angle -- I saw his shoulders shaking and thought he was just crying, figuring it was a good sign, that maybe he just broke his arm or something simple like that. Then his head started twitching, and his body started convulsing in a way very, very similar to the seizures I've seen.

I ran over to him, screaming his name and screaming for God at the top of my lungs. Fell to my knees in front of him, grabbed his face, and saw all the blood. All the wounds you can see in his picture were bleeding profusely. By the time the ambulance got to us, my hands were completely covered in blood from trying to hold his face sideways to keep the blood from going down his throat. He was convulsing so hard that he moved five feet, sideways, on his own by the time the ambulance got there.

And then there was hell.

Head injuries tend to make the person combative, but .... well, Matt's combative on his own, especially when he wakes up disoriented. It took seven guys to hold him down when they started moving him, and even then they couldn't keep a grip on him. They chemically paralyzed him, shoved a tube down his throat, and away we were.

That all happened right before ten on Friday morning. Now it's almost six in the evening on Sunday. I've been with him the entire time -- almost. Total, I've been away from the hospital for a little less than three hours. Food runs, coffee run, phone charger run...

He should be able to go home tomorrow, which is really good, but sucks, because I'm working 10am-8pm and really wanted to be the one to drive him home and take care of him. Looks like it's going to be his mom doing all that, which'll be.... interesting. She's never been in our apartment and didn't know until Friday morning that we were even living together.

Well, that cat's outta the bag.

Oh, well.

Anyway, I'm gonna go smoke while he's sleeping. Feel free to text me (or him) or leave messages or whatever.

Just pray for him, above all else.

Thanks.

One year

of Matt and Lace.

This year has been the craziest, worst, most intense, most up and down, most dramatic, most dangerous, most risk-taking, most fun-having, most tragic, most hectic, and hands down most fulfilling year of my entire life.

A year ago.

Ironic to me, just how predictable my thoughts and feelings are based on the season. At this point, I feel so weighted down by the world -- work, bills, sleep, food -- I feel like it holds me back from living my crazy, thrill-seeking life.

This is from a year ago, and honestly, the only thing that's different is I'm not as sleep/food deprived as last year. Thankfully.

A year ago, this is what I was thinking.

"Life's... life. And it just isn't as easy as it used to be.

But it's okay, because as stressed and hungry and sleep-deprived as I've been for the last couple weeks, I'm happy. I can say that -- I'm stressed, but I'm happy. The world's falling apart around me because I don't sleep enough or eat enough or write enough checks or have enough envelopes, but despite all that, every night's a good night.

Today wasn't so bad either.

Let's just put the past in the shadows, where it belongs. I'm tired of hitting my nose against it."

Random side note -- I graduated EXACTLY two years ago. I can't even fathom that. It makes me feel old, and like I've lost my grip on time, on my life.

Exactly two years ago, to the date.

Where has my life gone?
What have I become?

To be completely honest:
I only regret one thing from the past two years, and that wasn't until recently.
I am completely happy and secure and comfortable with who I am. I know who I am. I know what I'm becoming.
Maybe I don't need that grip.
Maybe the key is just letting it all go, staying true to my heart, and holding on just tight enough to see where this ride takes me.

Or maybe that's just the thrill-seeker speaking.