Like my Bowels, But With More Tape

Moving sucks.

My neck hurts, my back hurts, my legs hurt.  Basically, I hurt all over.

And, all because I took a property I would only have for four months.  It's funny, I don't remember putting all that crap in the studio space I rented.  It just kind of  "gathered" over those four months.  Kind of like dirty laundry.  The floor starts out totally empty, and the next thing you know, you don't have any clean underwear.  And your socks all itch.

Between the stuff that went to storage, and the stuff that went to goodwill, and the stuff I sold, and the stuff I gave away, I STILL have a whole bunch of crap that I'm taking to the dump tomorrow.

I have too much "stuff".

Since Lovelywife and I are getting ready to move sometime in the next quarter, I'm trying to get rid of all our crap.  There's so much of it.

Then, there's the stuff I won't be able to get rid of.  Like my old computer monitor.  I mean, I got it for free out of somebody's yard.  I never realized what kind of favor I was doing that person.  It's damn expensive to get the things recycled.  And we have two TV's that will be useless after they change over the TV's in February.  I guess we could by two "boxes" to continue getting a signal, buy I'm too cheap.

I also have waaaaay to many clothes.  Even after I got rid of all my fat clothes.  Maybe I shouldn't have gotten new skinny clothes at goodwill.  It was just too easy to buy really cheap loud shirts!   

Man, I really am a cheap bastard.  Buying clothes at goodwill?  Bitching about recycling?   Maybe I should just......Just.......

I don't know.  

Geeze, my back hurts.

Worlds Apart

Well, I think I won the court case.  But not really.  I DID get the fee I was supposed to pay back to unemployment reduced from around $2300 to just over $500.  So, I guess that puts me in the win column.  On the other hand, I poked the unemployment monster with a stick, and now it wants to bite me.  I got a letter today that said my job search requirements for each week would change.  NOW, instead of sending 3 potential employers my resume each week, I have to personally go in and fill out a resume at three different places.  Which means, I am now the  "Can I get a resume?" guy.  

Which, I hate.

Most of the jobs I really want (at the level I am trying to find work at) do NOT want to be contacted in person.   Which means, if I find a job I really WANT, it most likely won't be a viable job-search log entry.  No biggie.  Really.   Just more of a pain in the ass every week.

Actually, I don't think I've ever found a good job by filling out a resume.  It seems  there are two work worlds.  The one for people who fill out resumes and the ones who get their work through the good 'ol boy system, or by word of mouth.

Of course, with my work history and the amount of bad jobs I've held, I may be better off filling out a resume.  Maybe I'm part of that world.  

I think I may have just made a breakthrough!

Raw End of the Deal

Had the phone-in court thingy today.   It went......well it went.    I really don't know what to think.  I made my case calmly and without too many "and..um.."s, but I still think I'm gonna get screwed in the long run.

The truth is, the unemployment people gave me wrong information, and the gambit is so difficult to run without a great deal of stress, that by the time I finally got to somebody who could make a real decision as far as the state was concerned, I was totally burnt out on the whole thing.  Then, to my surprise, the person who heard the case, get this, HAD NO EXPERIENCE OR FIRSTHAND KNOWLEDGE OF THE LAWS AND RULES REGARDING UNEMPLOYMENT.   Now, I know what you're thinking, "What???"   And, that's exactly what my response was.  Turns out these cases are heard by lawyers that are acting judges, because they are required by state law to do a certain amount of pro-bono work for the state each month or year.  (Maybe you can shed some light on this, Murph)  Anyway, the "judge" asked so many questions regarding the rules of unemployment in the state, that I was dumbfounded.  Hell, I KNEW more about the law in this circumstance that she did.  AUUUUUUUGH!!!

So, I will know her decision in around two weeks.  Right now, I think it will most likely be a "split the baby in half" kind of ruling.  I probably will have to pay back the state for the weeks that I had students (2) and will not have to pay back the rest of the money.  So, I'm probably gonna be out $520 instead of the $2380 that they wanted me to pay back.  So, it will HOPEFULLY be a win-win for everybody involved.  At least, that's the decision I would make as a judge.  Of course, I would have brushed up on my knowledge of Unemployment Law before hearing a case, but that's just how I am.  

On the negative side, I really felt that during the hearing I was being "ganged up on" by the unemployment rep. and the judge.  One of those situations (and, yes, I'm playing this card) where two girls are ganging up on one guy.  Normally, this kind of situation would be a turn-on, but instead, I felt very manipulated.  Because I was a guy.  Really.  Had I been female, I'm not sure either one of these ladies would have been so nasty throughout the hearing.  They both seemed like they had a huge chip on their respective shoulders, and were just waiting for me to lose my cool so they could just jump all over me.   I never gave them the chance, but it didn't help that they were so "short" with me throughout.  I felt like they both were working together to "catch me in a lie".   It was kind of rediculous.  I'm gonna see if I can get the transcripts, or the recording for the hearing.  I'd like somebody else to hear it.

Either way, if I get screwed, I can probably get one more appeal.  The next decision will be based on just the tape from this phone hearing, so I will not have to appear again.  I'm not sure I could go through that again.

I'll let you know here what the final verdict was.

Keep your fingers crossed.

Your Phone, the Law, and You

DA-DUM DUM!....rat-tat-tat-tat.....DA-DUM DUM!

Yes, I go to court tomorrow.  Actually, I'm not going anywhere.   I'm staying at home and CALLING into court.   Turns out, that when you have a beef with unemployment, you have to call in to have your dispute settled by a judge.

I'm not sure if I like this.    I think I might have rather appeared.  I'm saying that now, but I'm not sure if my nerves would handle it.  I mean, I haven't done anything wrong, I was nailed to the wall by an anonymous letter via web to the state (i.e. my cowardly and petty ex-boss), and after HOURS and HOURS of dealing with this bullshit, I will finally be able to actually talk to someone who makes a difference.  Somebody who can say, in an official position, "Yes, Jason, you were not at fault here.  Seems like you were getting screwed by the system, and we apologize."  Think that will really happen?  Probably not.   Hopefully, they will determine that I would INDEED have taken a reasonable position,  had I been offered one, instead of persuing my little summer program.  

I'm so friggin' beside myself with anxiety about this whole thing.  What the fuck?

Why am I falling apart over this?

It's like I'm at a point where dealing with anything in an "official" capacity just freaks me out to the point of crying myself to sleep in a fetal position in the center of my bed with the covers pulled over my head.

I hope I win this appeal.  If not for just the anxiety to be let off my shoulders.  Even if I lose, I can rant on the state being unfair.  I will be totally broke, and I will have to try and borrow some money to keep paying rent so wife and I don't get fucking evicted because I don't even have any money to spare if I have to pay BACK the unemployment I got.  What a fucking racket.

Seriously!

That's all for today, I'm making so many typing errors because my fingers are shaking.  I don't want to type anymore.

Oh, and go see "Burn After Reading", it's a blast.

Anybody Out There?

Maybe one of the reasons I'm really liking writing this blug is because it give me a chance to bitch about stuff.  Not that anybody really cares about any of this crap (because they probably don't), but it gives me a chance to blow off steam that I really don't like to keep inside.  Isn't that the purpose of these blugs?  Kind of like a diary that folks can read if they happen to know where to find it?

I guess there's many other reasons to spend time writing these.  My friend Ayra reads it at least.  Apparently, nobody else does.  I've shared the link with just a few people, but I've not heard back from any of them, so I imagine that Arya and perhaps the fabled Murph are the only ones reading.

Either way, I got some stuff to bitch about today.....hooooo boy!

So, as stated in an earlier blog, my doggy was sick, so I took him to the vet today.  Acutally, in hindsight, I'm glad I did, because I have a lot less (maybe...) to worry about now.  What I found out was the huge lump in doggy's mouth has probably been there for a long long time, and I just now noticed it.  Which sounds strange, but I really don't spend a lot of time looking at the roof of my dog's mouth. 

What I did find out is that doggy's hips are afflicted with arthritis.  I knew this already, but vetguy said it was much worse than I thought.  Not much I can do except give him supplements and pain pills.  Hmmm...  My dog is going to be a junkie.

I was afraid (after reading a bunch of stuff online) that he had some sort of mouth tumor, and whipped myself into a stress/freakout/black hole thinking that my dog may die a horrible and wasting death from mouth cancer (the 4th leading cancer dogs have, actually).  So, I was freaking out and my lovely and talented and wise wife told me to just knock it off, because it could be anything, and I was just freaking her and me out for no reason.

So, I went to the gym and pummeled myself into emotional equilibrium.  (I've found working out is a GREAT way to get rid of my anxiety.  I just get so tired that I don't care anymore.)

Anyway, when I got back to the house, the mail had come and my request for an appeal of the denial of my claim for unemployment came.  In english, that means I got a time to meet with a judge so he can over-rule the decision made from unemployment to make me pay back all the money they've paid me.   For those of you who are not Ayra, somebody sent an "anonymous" complaint to the state saying that I was working while getting unemployment.  To make this short, that was wrong, and the state said I needed to pay back all the money I got.  I am appealing, and hope to win.  You'll know if I do, I'll either bitch about it or gloat here.

ANYWAY, when I was reviewing the information, I found it included a copy of the original "anonymous" complaint.  Since this was filed online, it was typed.  HOWEVER, the person who filed it accidently put in THEIR zip code instead of MINE.  This isn't a reason to get all freaked out, but, GUESS WHAT?  The zip code that was in the text was the zip of MY EX-BOSS!!!!

Have you ever put in YOUR zip accidently?   I do it all the time.  Stupid mistake, asswipe.

So, I thought I knew it was him.  But, this proves it.  The zip area is VERY small, and he's the ONLY person I know there.  So, I'm sure it was him.  I wonder if that ass-fuck-smarmy-shitheel knows how much aggravation and stress he has put me through?  He probably doesn't.

I was going to add something else here, but I won't.  Yep, typed a whole other paragraph here, but decided to remove it.   Yep.

So, my bitching is over now.   I feel a lot better.  

On a positive note, I made up with my friend "Joe".  We never really talked about the fight we had.  I just didn't speak to him for two weeks, and then, like guy friends do sometimes, just picked up where we left off without making a big deal about it.  I was mad.  Now, I'm not.  Still not forgiving him for missing my skydive though.  That's his guilt, now.

Thanks for reading my complaints.  If you are reading this, and are not subscribed to this blug, do so now.   It would be nice to see if there is anybody listening.

Not Much

I don't really have anything to say today.  I just wanted to post this picture.  Hopefully, somewhere someone will see it and realize that, "Y'know?  That Sarah Palin really IS a dumb bitch!"

I don't hate women.  Just her.

Puppy Pimps

My dog is sick.

Fortunately, He doesn't get sick ever, so it's not something I usually worry about, and if he does get sick, usually I know what to do, and don't go to the vet.   In fact, I don't get shots for him, either.  Before you get all bitchy about that, I don't kennel him, I don't let him get in contact with sick dogs, and there hasn't been a case of rabies in a domestic animal in this state since 1953.  My dog is 14 and a half years old, and has been "sick" only two(?) times.  So, I'm doing something right.  

And, he's in good shape now.  He's just old.  

So, today, I notice that he has a HUGE hot spot on the base of his tail.  I haven't seen him chewing on it, though he's sometimes smarter than me, so maybe he's doing it secretly.  Either way, I decided to give him a good check-over. Sometimes, when his winter under-coat is coming in, he'll chew on himself.  When I looked in his mouth, I noticed (again) a bad tooth he has right in the front of his mouth.  I have seen this before, but it wasn't wiggly, or I would have pulled it myself (I'm a farm-boy, I can do this stuff.  It's not hard).  

Anyway, I took a peek at the bad tooth again, and noticed a swollen abscess behind the tooth.  It's infected, and can potentially kill said doggy.  

So, I called the vet, as I don't really want to deal with the abscess myself, and am willing to pay a couple of hundred dollars to have vet take care of it.

Well, after talking with SEVERAL airhead receptionists at a variety of vets in this damn town, it looks like the act of pulling one TINY EASY-TO-REACH tooth will (after everything) end up costing me around $700.  

!!! Yeah, I know!!!!

The problem arises out of the vets (all of them) wanting to put doggy "under" for the procedure.  As I said before, doggy is old, and his risk of DYING while having his tooth pulled is greater than it is for younger dogs.

So, I don't want him to be put under.  IT MAY KILL HIM.  REALLY!

JESUS!  You would have thought I said I beat my dog to these people.  They were all totally snotty to me, and tried to dump me off the phone as soon as I mentioned it.

Now, maybe it's because the rural agricultural area I come from.  Maybe it's just common sense.  Or, hear me out, it's because vets are a racket.

I know these guys want to help animals, and go to school and all that shit, but I remember pulling teeth on animals back home at the vet for under $50.  You told the "country vet" you needed a tooth pulled on the dog, and the vet took out a pair of clean pliers and grabbed the tooth and yanked it before the dog knew what was going on.  Dog yelps, tooth hole bleeds, dog is happy 30 seconds later when it gets a soft treat.  You give doggy some antibiotics for a week, and everyone is happy.  

Instead, I have to make an appt. to have a "checkup" and a complete oral exam.  Which means I pay for doctor time, labs of his kidneys and heart, and an office visit.  Then, I schedule a "surgery day" for doggy, drive back for the appt., pay for ANOTHER office visit, pay for MANDATORY knock-out of dog, pay for "oral surgery" and then pay for drugs for doggy.  

What the fuck?

Just pull the damn tooth and gimme some pills.   I don't care if my dog feels the sharp and painful tug of his tooth getting ripped out.  His memory doesn't last that long and he's not going to blame me.  In the long run, he'll be happier because the pain from his mouth isn't there anymore, and he won't give a flying doggie-fuck who did it or how.

Before you get all bitchy about this, and all "well, if you love your dog, there are responsibilities, and you have to....."

Yadda yadda fuck you.

Here's the racket:  I also called a human dentist today and told them I had an abscessed tooth I needed pulled.

Local anesthetic, tooth pulled the same visit, antibiotics, and even Valium = $600 cash.

Yep, that's right.  It is less to have an abscessed tooth pulled from a human than my dog.  And less time.  And I don't need to be put under.  

What the fuck?

Oh, and before I forget to mention it, Sarah Palin is a bitchy redneck ignorant cunt who should be feared for the fascist tool she is.   Just thought I'd mention that.

The Numbers Game

I went to the doctor a week and some change ago, and have been waiting patiently for the results of my labs.  I finally got them yesterday, and was thrilled to learn that I'm succeeding in my efforts to reclaim my health.   

This little visit to the doctor was an important one, as it needed to justify me staying off the type 2 diabetes drug I was on.  My numbers (my A1C) was low enough to get off the drugs six months ago, but since I haven't been on the drugs, I was really afraid that they would have risen past the point where I would need to get back on the 'betis pills.  HOWEVER, I am proud to report that my attention to diet, exercise, refusal of booze (save for my birthday), have paid off in spades, and I have actually dropped that number from 6.1 (while I was on the pills) to 5.6 (off the pills).

Now, that's not to say that I can go back to my cheeseburger and a six-pack for lunch ways.  It just proves to me that I've thwarted this beast for now, but it's still hiding in it's proverbial cave to spring out on me and devour my pancreas if I fuck up my heath again.

Here's where I talk about weed:

I think smoking marijuana saved my life.  (Quit laughing!)  When I decided to make a real life change, one of the things I was concerned about was not drinking.  I mean, I drank a lot.  Every day.  For a long damn time.  When it was time to toss the bottle, I picked up the potpipe more often to help me deal with not drinking.  It worked.  Turns out, I'd rather smoke the weed than drink the beer.  I've also found that it calms my mood enough on a daily basis so that I got off the anti-depressants I was on, hardly ever have anxiety attacks anymore (so, I'm not taking the Xanax either), and focus better on job tasks, clean my house more, read more, watch more movies and less TV.   Also, I'm never hung-over so getting to the gym every other day is totally do-able.

So, if you're currently whining about how short-sighted I am, and how this is just substituting drinking for another vice, and how maybe it's working now, but later I'll pay the price for being stoned so much....yadda, yadda....   If you're thinking that....well, fuck you.  I found something that is working.   My doctor even told me that if it's working, not to change it.  I'm seeing him regularly, and he's checking out all my "numbers" for my heart (never healthier), my kidneys (improving with my diet), cholesterol is low (THC reduces cholesterol), and so on and so on and so forth.  Proving that, in my case (and that's the only one I give a damn about), smoking the Maryjane has been a good thing.

So, I'm gonna keep smoking the weed.  I like it, and it's keeping my nose clean enough to keep me alive and out of a diabetic coma, so fuck you.  We all got some kind of crutch we lean on to keep us from devouring our own soul with the daily bullshit and keeping everything from spinning wildly out of control.  My crutch is actually pretty normal.  I haven't adopted some fucked-up religion, or bought a ridiculous convertible, or cheat on my wife (no way, no how), I smoke a little weed and go to the gym.  Not so bad.  

Usually, I wait until everything is done for the day, all my to-do's have been checked off.  I've made dinner for wifey, she's in her pj's and happy, the dog has been walked, the dishes done, and the phone is turned off.  Then I get some serious levels of high.   My wife (who doesn't really do the weed) likes to mess with me a little when I'm high, but it's cute, and she loves me, and I trust her, so no worries.

What is the big fucking deal, anyway?

I'm healthier than I have been since I was 18.  Maybe more.  I'm happy too.  Just a little stoned sometimes.  Nobody is getting hurt.  Not even me.

So, if you have a problem with the weed, fuck right off.

Fair Fare

You can't eat well at a state fair.  

It's not fair at all.

Went to the Washington State Fair yesterday and fell off the diet wagon completely.   Sure, I'm going to climb, ashamed, back on it today, but I don't feel good about it.

When my lovely wife and I decided to gallivant off to the fair yesterday, I thought, "I'm sure there will be some good food there.  After all, folks are more health-wary these days.  Nope.  Fried dough, ice cream, and corn-dogs up the ying-yang.

My wife who has no desire or medical need to follow a strict diet regiment immediately opted for a corn-dog.  I followed suit, reluctantly.  (Who am I kidding?  I paid for them and nearly chewed the stick in half.)  I thought, "Well then, that's my diet-sin for the day....What's that over there?  Bratwurst?  MMMMMMMmmmmmm........bratwurst.....

So, a corn dog, a brat, a glass of lemonade, two diet sodas, a bite of my wife's funnel-cake, and ANOTHER corn dog later, I decide to get a strawberry ice cream cone.  Keep in mind, I haven't eaten shit food like this in awhile, and certainly not in this capacity.  You might think I threw up.  You would be wrong.  You might think I got the hershey-squirts, and you'd be wrong, as well.  WORSE:  I actually lost two pounds.

Now, that two pounds can be written off to a big heathy dump, or water weight, or normal daily fluctuations in the body, or whatever.

The problem is, it tricks me into thinking that it's okay if I cheat on my diet.  I don't want it to be okay.  I want to think that eating like that will kill me.   It damn near did.

Those folks reading this who know me, understand that I've lost around 90 pounds in the last 18 months, or so.   I got diagnosed with type 2 diabetes, and have been fighting the good fight for awhile now.  I'm off all my meds, I look great, feel great, my life is changing in leaps and bounds in good directions, and I've embraced my inner madman.  Things are going well.

Then, I find out that I lost 2 pounds eating crap.  Now, it seems as if all the effort is for naught.

Realistically, I know it's not, but will that help me the next time somebody waves a plate of fries in my face?  My buddy I'm going to see later today is already starting to talk about "let's get a pizza this afternoon", and I'm like, "Yeah! With sausage!"

I suck.  Gonna be one of those days.  Fucking state fair food and all it's yummy greasy goodness.....

RNC Madness

What the fuck is wrong with Republicans?

I'm watching the RNC, and I'm just appalled.

Just.......disgusted.

Rudy Gulianni is a moron.   Really.  I used to have an ex-father-in-law a lot like him.  Do or say anything to serve himself.   He is simply a pig.  He is spouting a sewer of you-are-just-like-me jokes that are getting a lot of laughs from a lot of folks just as screwed up as he is.  Damn, he can hardly put a complete thought together.   He's just linking together talking points fed to him by the Rovians, and then laughing at his own self-perceived genius.

The people in the audience are chanting "Drill, Baby, Drill".  

Really?

When will these fucks realize they are just....plain...wrong.

Know what?  Not gonna get all bent up over this.  If you've read this far, you already agree with me, and understand what I'm saying.

John McCain's wife is holding his VP's DS child.  I wonder how that kid, challenged like he is, will feel growing up in the company of nannies.  Or better yet, the first time he "challenges" Mom in public, and that cute little retarded baby ain't so cute anymore.  

God, I hate Guilliani.  What a tool.

They got a big feed behind Guilliani now of NYC.  Just in case we forgot who he is.   I haven't forgotten how he fucked up so badly.  911 hero my ass, Rudy.  Lots of those police/firefighters wouldn't have died if you'd of had their radios up and running properly.

Waiting for Sarah Palin to get onstage and make a fool out of herself.  I wonder how much of her speech she actually wrote.  I would be REALLY surprised at 10%.

RUDY:  "How dare they question how much time Sarah will be able to spend with her children."

Response:  Well, she obviously wasn't watching her 17 year old daughter when she was getting knocked up.  How well is her DS baby gonna do.  You know, Rudy, that she's still breastfeeding?  I'm afraid the kid will starve to death, personally.

Sarah is being introduced now.  Wearing Silver/light grey and pearls.  Hair is a little more "down".  Somebody told her to look less severe.  It will help her base.  She kinda looks like she should be bitching at a skycap for dropping her makeup bag.

First words:

"I will be honored to accept your nomination for Vice President of the United States."

Jeesus, she got lucky.  I think everybody else who was qualified had too much in bad press/skeletons in their closets.  

Oddly, she gives all her thanks for her nomination to men.  Funny that.

Slideshow of DC monuments in background.  Really?

She's trying so hard to be tough.  Let's say, for a second, that she's not acting.  Then, she's just frigging crazy.  Any person appearing that "driven" because they truly are, are usually sitting on top of a belltower with a rifle.

Where is her daugher's-baby's-daddy?  Not seeing Levi anywhere.  Probably a democrat.

So, one kid who's breastfeeding and DS, one who's knocked up, one who's off to war (apparently), Names of a few are Bristol, Willow, and Piper.  WTF kind of names are that?  Baby is named Trig.  Guess "Geometry" was too long to get on the birth certificate.

Curious as to what Sarah has to say to mothers all over the US who can't afford healthcare for their challenged kids?  Tough luck?  No, she says you will have an "Advocate" in Washington.  I bet they wish they had a single-payer healthcare system.

Husband Todd.  What the hell is a snowmachine, anyway?  He needs a shave.  Maybe he's trying to look rugged.  

Sarah just did that little "head bop" I've noticed a couple of times now.  I think it will start to piss me off.  Reminds me of cheerleaders who used to demand more "school spirit" from us.  Kinda like a ferret moves.

Now, can anybody explain to me what the fuck a "hockey mom" is?  I'm assuming it's like a soccer mom.  But, she just compared them to pit bulls, so I'm apparently wrong somewhere.  

HOLY FUCK SHE WAS ON THE PTA!!!   Well, glory be.

MAYOR OF A TOWN OF 5000?  Well, that obviously prepares her for ruling the free world.

Now, Sarah is bashing community organizers.  I wonder how all the community organizers who are out knocking on doors for McCain feel about that. 

Cindy McCain is in a really ugly green dress.  But at least she's smiling.  I wonder how her wrist/arm really got broken?  John does have a temper....

Republicans sure like to boo things a lot.

Wait, she's giving us a NEWS FLASH!!!!...

Oh.... she's going to DC to serve the people of this country.  Well, I hope somebody is.  Hardly a news-flashy item, though.

My mom sure likes Sarah a lot.  Though, she doesn't know why.  No reason, except she's a republican.  That's enough for her.  

Jesus, they are mad, mad, mad at people who don't agree with them.  Maybe that is the difference between (Mt. Rushmore in the background, now...?....) Republicans and normal people.  Normal people understand that is our differences that make us individuals.   

Sarah is delivering some very unfunny one-liners.  Her kids look bored.  Maybe they're stoned.  Alaska is pretty liberal with the weed.  Sarah admits to smoking pot when it was legal in Alaska.  Now, that it's not legal, apparently it's "wrong" again.  Ever meet anybody who smoked pot just because it was legal?  Neither have I.

She nods a lot.  Like she's constantly agreeing with herself.  She also keeps reading the monitor.  I hate people who read monitors.  Watch Obama speak.  Just uses the monitors when he gets hung-up.  The way you are supposed to use prompts.  Being read to is kind of insulting.  Really.

She has no answers of her own.  All of her statements are DIRECTLY on the party's hardline.  There is no originality with this lady.  

Another Moron.  Where do they find these folks?

I can't watch anymore.  I....just.....can't.

Right There, Up in the Air

As you can see from the new pic posted on the blug, I DID jump out of a plane on Sunday.  

I am really proud of myself for doing this, and I'll touch more on that later.  But, the surprising thing is, I've found that people I've shared this info with are very congratulatory, but only some people want to hear about it.  I mean, I shared pics with everyone in my address book, and got only a few replies back, with very brief congratulations.  I've had the chance to tell some folks about the jump in detail, with all the coolness of the event laid out with much enthusiasm, and hand gesticulation, and they say, "That's nice.  Good for you!"

So, did I say I JUMPED OUT OF A FUCKING PLANE AT 12,000 FUCKING FEET AND HURTLED TOWARDS CERTAIN DEATH AT 160 MILES PER HOUR, AND 60 SECONDS INTO THE FREEFALL, THE CHUTE WAS PULLED BY MY JUMP BUDDY, AND IT WAS LIKE GETTING HIT BY A FUCKING CAR AT 5000 FEET?  DID I SAY IT WAS A SINGULAR EVENT IN MY LIFE THAT MAY HAVE THE POWER TO FUCKING CHANGE THE WAY I APPROACH EVERY-FUCKING-THING THAT HAPPENS IN SAID LIFE?  DID I SAY THAT IT WAS SO TERRIFYING AND WONDERFUL THAT I MAY NEVER BE THE SAME?  DID I FUCKING SAY THAT?  DID I GET THAT ACCROSS?????

So, good for me!  

Among the many things I have learned for certain by jumping out of a plane is that people are generally selfish and jealous at the thought of somebody else doing something so awsome that they just don't have the balls to do.  Really.  Call it what you will, but every fucking guy I've talked to about this (save one, who has also jumped from a plane) wants to change the subject almost immediately.  They want to change the subject so they don't somehow get tricked into admitting that they are too chickenshit to skydive.  Some are honest.  Some guys have said, "I just don't have the guts."  Those guys get a little more respect from me.  

Take my best friend for example.  Let's call him.......Joe.  So, a few years back, Joe and I talked a great deal about jumping out of a plane.  He was on board, but had reservations, (as did I) but we decided that we'd wait, and yadda-yadda-boom, seven years had gone by.  When I first told Joe about having been bought a skydive for my birthday from my (awesome) wife, and did he wanna go with me?  Well, 'ol Joe backed off, told me no way would he ever do that, and I should have a good time, 'cause there was no way he was gonna go with me.  When I reminded him of our MANY conversations about doing this, he denied that we ever had those conversations, and didn't know what I was talking about-I-was-making-shit-up.   So, I asked my buddy my pal, my number one confidant for the last 15 years would he come and SEE me jump out of a plane?  Well, that would depend on when I was doing it, and what time of day and if he could drag his ass out of bed after working a double-shift, and if he would have to ride in the car with my wife (who he's fighting with because she knows he's a self-centered pussy, and, well, that's a much longer story), and so he'd have to get back to me about it, and where was I going again? And, what day, again?

So, I literally CHANGED EVERYTHING about the jump so he could come and watch.  I mean, Joe, he's closer to me than my own brother, and he's, you know, my Best Friend.   He's been the best man at BOTH of my weddings.   So, I changed the date to one of his days off, and the time to later in the day so he would be well rested, told him he could meet us there so he didn't have to argue with my wife, whatever.  Most importantly, I told him THREE times, "Joe, it means a lot to me that you are there for this.  I really want you to be there".

Joe tells me the day of the jump that he's too busy to go see me jump 'cause he's got GROCERY SHOPPING to do.   WHAT  THE FUCK???????????

So, with my newfound understanding that I, and I alone hold the keys to my life, and I'm in charge of me (yeah, the hurtling towards earth at 160mph does this to you); Joe can fuck off.

Now, I'm gonna talk about the jump.   I will save you the technical details of jumping out of an airplane, and get to the good stuff, as you've been patiently reading this far.  If you want to know all the little details, go jump.  It's relatively cheap, and it makes you tell your loser friends to fuck off.  Ahh,  the liberation.

So, I suited up, kissed my amazing, sexy and supportive wife (who loves me like crazy, too) right on the mouth and handed her my wedding ring to hold.  Told her again I loved her and bravely walked (yes, there was a swagger going on there) toward a broken-down ramshackle of a puddle-jumper plane to ascend to 12,000 feet.  I'm glad we were jumping out, as I wouldn't have wanted to land in that crappy plane.  Safer to jump, I'm thinking. 

We packed 1 pilot and four guys into the plane.  The other two guys were also doing a tandem jump, and I didn't really talk to them because the plane was so frigging loud.  So, my jump buddy, Jeff (his real name), was a wonderful early-twenty-something guy who was gonna open a chute for me and keep me from dying.  He also managed to be funny, a real pro, upbeat without the inevitable corny-ness that goes along with it, calm, and enthusiastic.  Jeff was a cool guy, I wish I could have tipped him better.  Maybe I will next time.  He jumped with sandals on!  And my wife totally crushed on him.

Going up in the plane was cramped and uncomfortable, but ultimately beautiful.   When we eventually got to altitude, Jeff strapped himself to me, opened the hatch, and a second later I was looking at the bottom of the plane.

You know how when you see somebody jump from a plane on television, it's all dramatic and slow and stuff?  Well, it's not like that.  The plane goes WHOOP and vanishes.  And, then there is this one second where you realize you're not getting back on the plane.  And, then all you can think is:  WHAT THE FUCK DID I JUST FUCKING DO?  SHIT!  But, you don't have time to think because the force of the wind against you (and with the help of your jump-buddy) you  straighten out, and he hits your arms so you put 'em up at the right angle, and you're both screaming, and GODDAMN it is cold, and then you realize you're not breathing, so you take a breath, and the air is so cold, but you don't care because your ears and hands are freezing off, but that doesn't matter because all the skin on your face is pulled back, and you're screaming FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK!

FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK!

AAAAAAAAAAAUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUGH!

SSSSHHHHHHHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIT!

At this point your brain has kinda gone on auto-pilot, and every bit of calm-your-ass-down endorphins in your brain have started to kick in, but you are also tripping a little on all the adrenaline that has finally hit your brain as well, and you can't really think about anything except how beautiful everything is, and you realize you are seeing that kind of altitude in 360 degrees, and you may never have that opportunity again.  And then, suddenly, without warning the most amazing thing happens:

You are flying.

You are not attached to anything except Jeff, and he's screaming still.   You stop screaming, you realize that you are still within reality's confines, but you are fucking flying and it doesn't feel like falling, it feels like you can do any FUCKING thing you ever want, because you are the fucking man, and you are FLYING! And by the time you start to realize that YEAH this is the most fun you have ever had in your entire life (and it's WAAAAAAY better than losing your virginity on the bedroom floor of your sister's college apartment with her 22-year old sorority sister), everything immediately changes.   Here is where your jump-buddy pulls the chute, and you get hit by that car I talked about earlier.

And then, FUCK YEAH!   The chute has opened, and you're not going to die after all.  Then, everything starts to move much slower, and everthing gets quiet, almost immediately.  And you scream some more and WOW! look over there at that friggin storm!

We were the last jump of the day, and a HUGE storm was coming in from the North.  We noticed a stretch of rainbow about half a mile wide from the plane.  Because we were well above it, it looked different because of the prism-effect.  From altitude, the rainbow looked like a huge area of brightly-colored rain falling from this cloud patch. 

When Jeff turned the chute so we could check out the rainbow, it was bigger and brighter than it had been from the plane.  At that moment two bolts of lightning struck at the same time on either side of the rainbow.  Jeff and I agreed that it was the most uncommon thing either of us had ever seen.  

And beautiful.  

I am a painter, and every now and then I am floored by the enormity of beauty the natural world offers us.  But, coming down from the sky attached to a parachute and a guy named Jeff, I saw the most awe-inspiring display of natural glory I will probably ever see.   Then, it was time to pay attention to where the ground was, because we were coming in for a landing.  Put your feet up, and we slid in on the ground.  Soft and  easy.

After Jeff unhooked me, I jumped up and down, and tried to get my goggles off my head so I could wipe the tears from my eyes.  200 feet away, my wife jumped up and down, clapping, and I cooly walked over to her and kissed her again.  She was as beautiful as the sky.

It took me awhile to come down completely.  Monday was a blur.  Today, my wits are back, and I finally can sit and write all this down.  

If you read all this to the end, you are congratulated.  You are not a selfish person, and I hope that you do something as wonderful as this someday. Really.  It was so much easier to find that kind of beauty than I thought it would be.  It was right there, up in the air, just waiting for me.