Shakylegs: 03/01/2002

Rented 'Liam' last night; what a great movie. Strange, however, watching a movie about a kid growing up in Liverpool whose father has just lost his job. Kinda struck close to home. Sigh.

Laid off. Again.
If anyone wants to get in touch with me, simply click on the "Take it outside" link.

Tuesday morning. I heard a rumour yesterday that lay-offs may be in the offing. I guess we'll have to wait and see what happens...

Once again, thanks to JD for this.

You are Spaceman Spiff!
Zounds! You are the intrepid Spaceman Spiff, the engaging explorer ensconsed in an unending universe of exotic and evil extraterrestrials! You're brave, but you should give that dictionary a rest.
Take the What Calvin are You? Quiz by contessina_2000@yahoo.com!

I'm sore. I've got hundreds of e-mails to read. I'm scratched all to hell. There's sand in every orifice of my body, and in every piece of gear that I have. I've slept maybe six hours in the past three nights. My workload is horrific. I've got a horrendous sunburn and my lips are chapped and bleeding.
God, what a great trip!

I'm out of here. I'll write a trip report once I get back. Got a site under geocities (yeah, love those ads), so I'll be able to upload photos and such.

Yeehah! In order to justify my existence at work, I'm now working on white papers and marketing stuff. Don't know how I feel about that, really. It takes a complete change of thought-processes, I find. I would never be able to be a salesperson; I'm too lackadaisical. "What, you don't want that product? Okay, well, you have a nice day." Now, I'm singing the praises of the company. Mind you, it's a great company, and we have great products, but it's difficult to convince folks of this.
Six hours to go.

Less than 48 hours to go, and slightly more than a day of work, and then I'm taking off on a jet plane, don't know when I'll be back again. Actually, I'll be back on the 24th. I've never been anywhere warm before, it should be fun.
Packing should be interesting: Most everything is going into a duffle bag, which will consist of a tent, a sleeping bag, a stove (had to buy a new one that doesn't smell of kerosene), pots and clothes for a week. Of course, this means a couple of shorts, t-shirts, and underwear. What worries me the most is my climbing gear; we're talking almost $2000 worth of camming devices, nuts, ropes, quickdraws, etc. I can't imagine what I'll do if that stuff doesn't make it. I'm still wondering if I can carry this stuff on with me, and what the check-in will be like. "Well, you see, sir, this fits into a crack into the rock. Then, I attach a carabiner, um, ca - ra - been - er, to the loop, and then pass the rope through the 'biner, um, beener. No sir, I can't imagine being able to threaten anyone with any of this." Etc. Sure, I could always store this stuff in the luggage compartment, and pray nothing happens.
Regardless, my brain is already on vacation.

Someone kill me now
Have to go to the monthly ACC executive meeting tonight. I think I'd rather stick darning needles up my urethra than have to sit through another one of these meetings. Most of the time they are okay, but lately there are some members who feel the need to go on and on and on and on and on and on about all the work they've done in other organisations and, consequently, are physically drained but, still! have the energy to join another executive as member-at-large. Therefore, with all their expertise, they're here to show us regular folks how things should be done.
This includes daily e-mails about Roberts Rules of Order, liability crap, leadership development necessities, ad nauseum. I can just see this guy, a few months down the line, complaining that he's exhausted from all the work he's done for us, and they've received no thanks in return. So I have to go directly from work to the meeting.
I feel dirty already.

Four more days. Well, really, three and a half more days, and then I'm heading for the desert. Must... con... cen... trate.

Damn, am I ever hung over. The funny thing is, I didn't even drink last night. I simply had a dream of being at a party. Woke up this morning, completely nauseous, with this strange woman in the same bed. No wait, that's my SO. What's up with that? Honest, suffering the side effects without even getting the chance to drink and make a fool of myself, as per the norm? I demand a recount.

Thirty-seven
In the late summer of 1995, I started to feel really run down; out of breath, constantly wracked over by fits of coughing, etc. At the time, I thought I had been struck by some weird sort of bronchitis. As time went on, I got weaker and weaker. Suffering from both stupidity and stubbornness, a few months went by before I hauled my sorry ass to a doctor, but only after I had started coughing up blood.
In a way, the mystery of what was happening to me was intriguing. Here I was, at one point fairly healthy (although incredibly self-destructive), and the next moment thinking that motorized wheelchairs might be my future vehicle of choice. So much so, that I was telling myself that I would not make it until that time the next year. As weeks went by, I kept shortening what I thought would be my life span. First, I gave myself a year. Then, until my next birthday, then simply the winter, then Christmas. Finally, in mid-December of that year, I was given a week, max.
Well, here I am, about 6 and a half years later, in some of the best shape of my life. I live with the sweetest woman in the world; I have a job I really enjoy and a nice home environment. Sometimes, life really does work out.

In balance with nature
Is there any other expression that is so self-righteous and ambiguous? Jesus, I hate that line.

"Oh, I'm a vegetarian, so that I live in balance with nature. Not like you evil meat-eaters."

"You know, I find that doing tai chi and yoga, along with administering weekly enemas to myself, puts me in balance with nature."

"I don't eat those nefarious whites: sugar and flour."

Etc.
Give me a frickin break.
It's such a white, middle-class sentiment. Honest, how often do you hear someone who's just trying to get by who will tell you that they drink, say, Old Milwaukee because they find after downing a few they feel closer to nature?
So when, exactly, did we lose this so-called balance? When we first made fire? Speared ourselves a mastadon?"Discovered" electricity? I will never understand people who need to justify themselves, and in the process elevate themselves above others simply because they lead a certain lifestyle and have made certain choices.
That we're fucking up the planet, there's no question. However, contrary to popular belief, we're parasites, and not symbiotic creatures. So yeah, we're destroying ourselves out of existence. It's called evolution. Whatever comes after us will be in balance with nature, and so are we.
Remember, no matter how new age you get, old age is gonna kick your ass.