heh.
It’s still there.
as promised
Sometime after turning 30, things have started to align themselves to push me to start “stepping up to the plate” in a lot of areas of life, so to speak.
I found out a few weeks ago I’m coming into the last portion of the money from my deceased father’s pension. The amount is more than expected. In the past, no plans would have been made, that’s not going to be the case here. Among investigating possible investments and completely paying off all debts, I’m going to do various small things like stop throwing money at renting an apartment and buy a condo for later resale. There’s been a big shift where I’ve suddenly found myself choosing career options, buying real estate, looking at furniture that doesn’t involve cinderblocks and pieces of wood, wearing slacks and dress shirts to work, and weighing serious consequences of future actions. Wasn’t I just screwing off at raves and yelling “live for today” two seconds ago?
I’ve been in a wicked relationship for awhile now that’s caused me to stop and take a serious look at myself and where I’m heading. It’s been successful so far, for the first time since I can remember, if ever.
My time to finish school is running out, part of the future plans have involved seeing how to realistically make my return. The end of August marks 1 full year since quitting all the psych meds, my brain chemistry has done a lot of healing and re-balancing, so I’m looking to pay the university the money I owe them and restart classes in January.
The 240SX is running and is absolutely sick, but there is still too much left to do to feasibly drive it. It’s being shelved until I move into the new place and have a garage. I rented a car this week and am looking to buy a beater pickup truck this weekend as a second car.
I’m actually contemplating parting the car out and selling everything. A stripped, bare metal, street (il)legal race car was a nice novelty but completely impractical and annoying. I may take the parts money and put a down payment on a 2001 IS300, which I’ve seen for $13K. I’m not afraid of a 2001 car as there’s no maintenance I’d be scared to do (I just built a car), and if I play my cards right with the terms of the mortgage I wouldn’t mind having a small car payment. Since I built the 240 and it has run and is ridiculously dope, I’m not calling this unsuccessful and would be able to sleep at night if I walked away from it in October or so.
Anyway, that’s the haps. That, and an internet break for a bit, work has been hectic.
omg knives
I just left the follow-up visit at the ENT to check on my post-surgery progress. I still feel like shit, mostly due to not sleeping well, but I was told, “You actually look a lot better than most people do at this stage.” Thus confirms my theory that I am actually part roach, and no matter what comes in life I can’t be killed.
I was even “doing so well” that I managed to avoid having this thing shoved up my nose:
My hand is there in the photo to show how REALLY FRIGGING BIG THAT THING IS.
Anyway, I’ve been cleared for normal life activities. This means back to the gym, back to becoming an un-pasty white person again, and proper sleep and whatever else it is that I do. Allergy shots start Friday morning, I should be free of the grossness within two months.
deepa mehta – water
Last night E and I saw Water, the third installment in a trilogy of somewhat controversial films directed by Deepa Mehta. Outlining the circumstances faced by widows in Hindu culture, the film is set in India the late 1930s and early 1940s, a time period frought with growing backlash against long-standing tradition and culminating in the revolution against Britain and the arrival of Mahatma Ghandi.
In Indian culture, widows are apparently believed to become half dead themselves on the death of their husband, with whom they become unified through marriage, and are left with options limited to burning themselves in the funeral pyre or taking a vow of self-denial. Those choosing the latter are often thrust into ashrams, isolated with other cast-off widows, and sold into prostitution. Remarriage is considered sinful, the remainder of life is lived on the bottom of the socio-religious food chain. The film opens with a quote from the Laws of Manu, one of the Hindu sacred texts, relating that women unfaithful during marriage or the widowed period are promised their rebirth in the womb of a jackal.
Though this attitude has begun to change in the larger Indian cities, these conditions are evidently still rampant, especially in rural villages. While this is one of the many other-cultural norms that we in America see as being odd at best and deplorable at worst, it struck me while I was watching that parallels can be drawn between this situation and Americans using oddball antiquated Biblical scripture to justify bigotry toward homosexuality, or the parallels between the violence perpetuated by fringe fundamentalist Islam and the abortion clinics bombed domestically in the name of God.
I did some reading on the director and the firestorms surrounding her releases, filming for Water actually began in 2000 but was halted due to extreme opposition from Hindu fundamentalists, and only secretly resumed in Sri Lanka this past year. During the opening of Fire, which tells the story of two Hindu women who fall in love with each other, the theater screening the film was burned to the ground.
Definitely one of the better films I’ve seen in months, I just added Earth and Fire to my Netflix queue. Regardless of the grounds on which people stir the pot, I’ve always been drawn to the ones that do the stirring.
the princess is in another castle
I’ve perked up a bit over the last day or so. I left surgery center equipped with rules, I’m not supposed to bend over, lay flat, exert myself, or blow my nose. I’ve only broken the first and third.
It’s extremely difficult for me to sit in one spot for long periods of time. I really overdid it yesterday, I ran errands, bought clothes, went to dinner with a friend. I cleaned, I fed Liz, I did laundry. I don’t at all like being laid up, vulnerable, helpless. One of the most frustrating times of the last 4 years was after I dropped into a half pipe at Eisenberg’s and jacked my foot sideways. I couldn’t walk for almost 2 months, and it was 10 months before I could jog on a treadmill without pain. I was so pissed off at being helpless I was left-foot-driving my car within 2 weeks of the spill.
I cooked a full breakfast this morning, consisting of blueberry whole grain pancakes, eggs with sausage and mushrooms, oven warmed syrup, sausage and whole grain toast on the side. E came over to eat, and afterward we dragged out the old school Nintendo.
I may need to just stop for a second and bask in the glory of how dope I am. I still won Super Mario Bros. original within 10 minutes of hooking up the console, after it’s sat in the closet for years. The middle finger belongs to Eilene.
surgery.
It all went well. Cheeks a tiny bit swollen/irritated. Golf ball sized cyst blocking left maxillary sinus wall to wall, all gone now. Photo, as promised.
up a crick
After noticing a severe lack of the west nile virus in our lives, E and I headed to White Rock Crick ™ in North Dallas to skip rocks and get lost for awhile.
botanic garden
I somehow got out of work early, so me and the E headed out to Fort Worth to check out the botanical gardens, and its 7.something acre japanese garden.
