Liofe Hasppens...

or, "Life Happens". How do you maintain the desire?? The desire to write every little brain blip, every little postulate, every little nebulous observation...

What started as a venue for a recovering pessimist and depressive, a quiet non-judgmental place to rant, to expound, to forgive my self and others, now seems to be rather a small monkey(marmoset-like as I see it in my mind's eye) chattering in my wee ear about all the things I haven't written. And when I do get here, it all seems so mundane, these letters and words that spill from my digits.

My poetry is on hiatus and my dreams are on overdrive, but so tenuous that I can grasp only the faintest tendrils - France (Louis XIV), even now they slip seductively into my subconscious only to resurface during the interplay of shadow and REM. School sucks the intellectual fire from my conversation, and challenges my esteem in the face of barely 20's langorously sporting success like a well-worn Polo while I still struggle with my meaning, my purpose.

Fortunately it's not all grey... I have an other who I am finally beginning to appreciate and for whom I feel true fondness. Birds and dogs are my mainstay, preening my eyelashes, nostrils and eyebrows with ferocious determination and accuracy. Rallying to my side for daily walks and affirmation, riding my shirt like adrenalin junky mountaineers, and tempting me to expose my softest parts despite the risk of pain.

In the Bag

Another hellacious mid-term in the bag. This accounting stuff, financial analysis, is not rocket science, but when you throw an undergrad degree plan and a 15-week grad semester at me in the space of 6 measly weeks, I may have slight difficulty. The first mid-term was disastrous - low C on that one. Last night's foray into the realms of A/R, Inventory, PPE, Issue price of Bonds, MB values and other odd miscellany was enough to make me weep. I felt confident as I left the class, however, this morning I am feeling not-so-confident.

I'm a good test-taker. This is shaking my fragile little world.

Pinky Things

Pics of the offending pinky, now not so threatening and seems to have lost the attention of family and friends. Medical problems are so boring if they are not your own.

Indian Love

Bird Mart this May was chock full of Green Cheeks and Moluccans, but luckily I happed into a lovely bearded gentleman looking for a male ringneck. I was looking for a female. So, we saw a pair and split the difference.

Now Sterling, my randy ringneck, can refrain from flogging his flamingo and has a lovely wife, Jessie. And, soon I hope I will be hearing the pitter-pat of little birdie feet. (I promise I will update with new photos soon... No, really, I will! I'm not kidding. It's gonna happen... start holding your breath now)

Star Light, Star Bright...

For one measly day I would love to experience the high of manipulating the psyche, soma and selective reasoning of the public at large (as opposed to the large public). Recently I had the honor of visiting the "No. 1" vascular surgeon in DFW, who proceeded to spend all of 20 minutes with the now not-so-blue pinky, subject me to sonogram, doppler and finger cuffs, only to relay the diagnosis equivalent to "I dunno." On the basis of that, he recommended an echo-cardiogram - simple enough. Checked in with his upstairscardiology group and sent me to their office to powwow with their "No. 1" cardiologist. I signed in and confirmed that I would be seeing Dr. Carry. After 20 minutes I reconfirmed that I would be meeting personally with Dr. Carry, and the receptionist was firm that it would be just a minute. A mere 1 hour and 20 minutes later, I was called sweetly through the magic door and was greeted glibly by Dr. Carry. I bluntly asked if it was standard procedure to keep patiemts waiting for up to two hours. She hemmed and hawed, justified the wait by explaining that I was a "work-in" and as I escalated my inquiries and ejaculations (no pejoratives, mind you), she now-nowed, there-thered me to my utter dishevelment.

I stormed out uttering incoherencies and gesticulating wildly, all the time trying to prevent tears of anger and frustration from slipping out and giving away my emotional discomfiture. Upon reaching the safe haven of my car, I wept and hiccoughed, jerked and spasmed until I could get enough air to call Dr. Pearl. After repeated unsatisfying jockies with his office manager, he finally came on the line and queried me in a sweet "I'm-talking-to-an-hysterical-person" voice, and he was right. I had lost my senses - left without my staggering command of grammar and a devastating vocabulary, I could only whimper ineffectual commentary as to inefficiency and indiscretion. So, now, not only was I angry and frustrated but I was muted by my own inflated emotion.

Without any additional information being imparted as to my health and/or well-being, these "professionals" managed to squander a full day of my valuable time, several hours of my precious mental health, and all of my sanguine goodwill. Yes, yes... I know what you are saying... I let them frappe me into this state, but wouldn't anyone be incensed?? If you aren't, you should get that way. Doctors have challenged even the most stoic and forgiving with their inattention and unconcern for the time and trust of their patients.

OK, so they spent seven years in school preparing to wrangle the vicissitudes of the human body, they got divorced, ignored their children and wives, and bowed in obeisance to the medical powers that be, but does that negate the necessity of continuing to be human? I say, let's take our bodies into our own hands, use the vast sources of imformation available to us and begin to know ourselves so that we can begin the process of diagnosis and treatment withou the intervention of a medical automaton who pilfers our pockets for his ski trips to Vail.

Patient, Heal Thyself!

As I watched the grayscale monitor, the thin wire coasted gracefully across the charcoal duskiness of my lumbar vertebrae before merging onto my large thoracic thru-way. "More thrust!" I said to myself in a silly Scotts accent and a larger catheter magically appeared on the screen. This new and improved rooter ascended my torso and arched gracefully over my aorta. I talked and burbled happily aware of my pharmaceutical phaerie gliding gently in and around inquiring gently as to my comfort. Everyone should have one of these anxiolytic angels to soothe and assuage nerves gone awry, stomachs gone floppsy, and arteries repelling invaders. I wondered when they would use the big rubber mallet...

Dr. Day, (after recovering from my nauseated greeting) explained the next series of events as he tapped and wiggled my femoral cannula, Long Hair banged the dye reservoir heartily and Eagle Eye confirmed the absence of naughty invasive bubbles. Somehow visions of a well-used but restorable classic car came to mind as I listened to the bangs and rattles, grunts and assertions.

All of this for the "blue pinky". One whole day spent in the confines of Baylor Medical, finger refusing to be even slightly bluish, to discover that my radial artery (sinister) is completely blocked, jammed up, occluded to the hilt for no apparent reason. Dr. Day asked if I had been using my arm as a tool or deadly weapon to which I cordially responded in the negative, internally wondering if he was altogether a twit or still reeling from my gastric salutation. Indeed, I often wield my arm in a threatening manner, and have offered it's services to many a construction worker as substitute for some pneumatic device, but never, in my wildest imaginings, thought this could be harmful to the delicate underpinnings of my vascula. Git!!

Dr. Pearle will be inspecting me next and the wonders of a thrombosis may be revealed. Stay tuned for vastly amazing and enchanting pictures of the "blue pinky" itself, and if we are lucky, the radiographies.

Follow up to Cruelty

I love animals dearly but this is just too funny (similar to the penguin thing).

Cruelty Free

My brother, Dolph, told me to go to this site. Happily, it doesn't condemn meat eaters but offers simple solutions to finding quality food products with which one can be guilt free. Our family is completely invested in this concept - our meats come from Burgundy Pasture beef and our eggs come from a local woman who has chickens in her yard. We were never intended to be strictly vegetarian, however we have propogated generations of humans who believe it is their right to consume massive quantities of flesh in order to feed the consumerism that is leading us down the path to self destruction. Contrary to the beliefs of zealots and the misguided, humans are not the pinnacle of the animal kingdom and are not entitled to abuse, neglect and otherwise harm fellow species at will.

So, eat your meat or you won't get any pudding... just make sure you are raising your own or purchasing from someone who holds life tenderly and dearly.

This is becoming alarming

Yet another in a string of cetacean strandings and deaths this spring. What does this say about our earth and about us???

Body Stuff

It's small, blue and tingly. My pinky finger, I mean. For the last two days, perhaps three, the pinky finger (5th phalange sinister to be exact) of my left hand has been numb, with a cyanotic nail bed and cold. Every now and then I see this little seemingly dead thing waving around down there and I give it a rub and squeeze to move the blood back and forth, but it never seems to really "wake up". It makes me wonder what may be going on... just curious, not alarmed, as it still seems to function when called upon. Previous to the "pinky thing", the thumb on the same hand had been experiencing some soreness on the pad, similar to a deep bruise or bone bruise, making it quite tender to perform such simple operations as opening the car door - my latch has a button that you have to push. And, just the morning of the "pinky thing", I felt a sharp pain in the offending phalange stemming from no apparent provocation.

As of today, the thumb seems to be better, the pinky continues to be obstinate and the wrist has gotten into the action. It now feels as if one of the small, pebble-shaped wrist bones has become dislodged and is creating a feeling of "not-quite-right" - ness. I've twisted, turned, massaged and pulled to no effect.

Only 40 and already falling apart!

Damn Technology

OK, I got all motivated and wrote something the other day. Something really exquisite, amazing and esoteric... I will never be able to re-create it and it probably would have made me real famous, but this damn posting blogger thing just tossed it aside like so much gutter detritus. Bastards!

Actually, I have quite a bit to post about, however this whole grad school thing, as I have mentioned before, is cutting to the quick of my social and private time. Project this, paper that, cohort meeting there, final here... blah, blah, blah. Not to mention that it is stifling my creativity. But I will bravely thump along. I purchased my first digital camera and have cleverly left it sitting on my bar where it will read my thoughts, leap to task and whirl madly about the metroplex snapping shots of the bizarre, unheard of, and awesome. (I haven't even gotten a good photo of the Twins with it yet. Oh, I am so lame.)

Anywho, shortly, I will be regaling my distinct, if microscopic, audience with my own myopic visions of nature, self and family. Beware!

Coffee Klastch (?)

philosophy

"As a human being, you have no choice about the fact that you need a philosophy. Your only choice is whether you define your philosophy by a conscious, rational, disciplined process of thought and scrupulously logical deliberation - or let your subconscious accumulate a junk heap of unwarranted conclusions, false generalizations, undefined contradictions, undigested slogans, unidentified wishes, doubts and fears, thrown together by chance, but integrated by your subconscious into a kind of mongrel philosophy and fused into a single, solid weight: self-doubt, like a ball and chain in the place where your mind's wings should have grown." -

Ayn Rand, 1982

Compresssion

A good friend once malapropped that he felt "compressed". Not so ludicrous when you realize he meant that he was depressed. Loathe to explain for the maddening averages/normals, I comment that I am compressed today. Only slightly, and for no apparent or immediate reason - steadily on the looney pills, no crises imminent - all is status quo in the house of sYd. Nevertheless, I am experiencing a malaise coupled with a disquieting desire to weep for no reason.

Maybe it's the normalcy of it all. Mom states that I am an adrenalin junkie which I equate with insane spills from cliffs wearing only a bandana, a wetsuit filled with fillets and a quick splash with great whites, etc., not with the mild thrills that seem to crop up in my daily rounds. But she may have a point. This continuing subtlety of life may be compressing my adrenalin jones and resulting in this feeling of not-quite-enough.

Addendum to the Coyote

As a member of the yahoo groups Bird Hobbyist and 9-1-1 Parrot Alert, I am the joyful recipient of scads, oodles and virtual mountains of bird "stuff". Usually I browse and delete unless there is something of grand interest. Today's digest contained an heading, "Celebrity Birds". Piqued, I scrolled down to find that the celebrities were the hawks in New York City and a pair of barn owls with two, count them, TWO! nest cams. (BTW, www.palemale.com & www.theowlcam.com )

OK - I'm all about nature, but this has me vexed. Yes, yes, let's make sure that in this urban, people infested world children can access the bird cams and learn about species that they may not ever, EVER encounter in their "natural" lives... which brings up the opposing position, why are we accessing a virtual world to learn about animals, places, things in general that we should be able to walk out of doors and capture with our own eyes. I can get very frothy about this subject, but it usually turns people off and all sorts of argument ensues (unless of course you are a member of the elite few intellectuals who agrees with me..YeeHaw!).

Bottom line: If we could manage our resources and greed in a more moderate way, we might all be privy to the majesty that is our natural world without resorting to a "virtual" world.