Surgery! Good times!

I was recently hospitalized and released on account of a infection. Tiny little bacteria, all swarming around inside me, began to get hunger and eat up on my flesh. I have no idea how that got there, all I know is that few would be able to make it through the multiple shifts I had to endure simply to spend a couple days off of it. At the end of my couple of days off, when it started to look more like a bratwurst than a foot, I took a roundabout trip to the surgery wing of St. Lukes hospital, via route of family practice.

After a quick look from a bevy of aghast nurses, the surgeon walked in. He took a quick survey of the area, stabbed me a couple of times with a lidocain needle, and began to slice. This was astounding. It was a world-opening pain, the kind where you don't really even feel it anymore. Needless to say, I think this guy was something of a sadist.

I was hospitalized for about 4 days, dreading the next visit from the surgeon. Rough asshole. While I was laid out on a back breaking bed, one of the molars chipped horribly. This is a molar which supposedly was supposed to be removed when I was closer to 19. I'm beginning to see why. I was accompanied near the whole time by friends and the ever-dear Dr. Girlfriend. I saw a good few movies, watched enough TV, missed a lot of work, and learned that morphine doesn't really do much more than itch. The moral of the story is...

is...

I don't know. Fuck, that surgeon fucking sucks.

-The0

A Study in Hypocrisy

This is a long-ago post that I have decided is just barely worth fleshing out. It is more fully explored in a later post, but honestly, I'm sick of hearing people tell their own life story. Seriously, I don't want to hear it, I want interest expressed in me. That's why I started a damn weblog.

This entire post looks to have been drafted at a time where I was just coming to terms with who I have to work with. I was angry and jealous of the ability of another new hire, and we were both vying for the same job. Turns out we both got hired, and we have since become good, friendly co-workers. As of this out-fleshing, he is farther advanced in the career, but to be fair, he is better at what he does than I am at what I do.

All in all, anger at the time subsided, and this draft is fucking done with. Finished 08/30/2010.

-The0

Self-Referential Philosophy a Must

The thought occured a couple days ago that I am not a very good blogger. I'm usually just trying to find something over which to be angry, and trying to flaunt semi-proper grammar. I'm certainly no Cory Doctorow, and the crusade I'm on isn't a popular one. It's actually very offensive, and it's also hard to garner support for a crusade against socially accepted ignorance. Someone must carry the mantle though, and I choose to be that one! Take a stand with me! Sit down and read a damn book!

Back to my weblog though. I get a feeling that this is just my little jewel, if you will. A little thing I picked up because all the other (pseudo-) intellectuals were doing it. I maybe wanted to feel popular. I choose to draw from Saint Thomas More's Utopia. "Similarly, they pick up pearls when they find them by the seashore, and diamonds and garnets that are sticking out of fallen rocks. They never go looking for them though, but only collect them when they come across them by chance. They polish them up and give them to their children to wear. Little children take immense pleasure and pride in such baubles, but when they grow a little older they realize that only kids care about such trifles. Their parents don't have to say a thing. They become ashamed to wear jewelry of their own accord, just as our own children give up jacks, marbles, and dolls when they grow up." Is this collection of ramblings simply a little jewel which I show off to people, so they can see my pride in it? I suppose that if not, my writing and thinking processes will become more refined, and a higher quality post will be delivered unto you. If it is, however, I suppose I'll eventually just grow up, and lose my marbles.

Things are harrowing at this point. The bills are getting more plentiful, and at a rate directly inproportional to the funds. In a bad way. I think I just need to hunker down and do more work. If you keep working, something's bound to turn up, to paraphrase Harvey Pekar. On that note, I do have my résumé floating out there, and I am working on a plan. It involves moving to a cheaper place, and other fiscally responsible moves. More on that as said plan progresses.

As far as something turning up, I have an update. The lovely lady from the land of eHarmony and I have been communicating very regularly. We're in something of a pissing contest to see who can write the longer email, and we have a LOT of things in common. She's a very near match to the dream girl. Her last email to me was 9 pages long. I am, however, starting on that attachment/fear roller coaster. I'm starting to really like this girl, and I'm beginning to hope. That was the last thing that came out of Pandora's box, for the record. Knowing my luck, she'll find another guy before everything is over, or something else will keep everything nice and in it's status quo. That's not the attitude to have going into a possibly great situation, but hey, realism is a option too. Besides, I'm not even close to up to par to chase a girlfriend right now. Not according to my manifesto. But hey, we'll work and pray, and see where it all goes. It sure would be nice to get back in the saddle. 

I have to to sleep, I open tomorrow. Thanks for reading. Questions? Comments? Philosophical inquiries? You know where to put them.

-The0