My blog affects my life immensely. It can manifest in two ways. Either I alter my usual patterns hoping to generate a blog-worthy story, or the things that I've said on my website are read by people who then affect my life. That's why I do shit like ear candling and enrolling in the art institute. The other night, I ran into Ryan Short and he started hitting me because I said he always disagrees with me. Those are just a few examples of a constant whirlwind. SideshoViD.com is never far from my mind.

I tell you this, because I don't want you to think I've left you hanging. 90% of the day, I am writing blogs in my head. And I've written this one again, and again, and again, and again. If I write something happy-go-lucky, it will appear to others that I am flighty and disengaged. If I write something too honest, I'll betray my own self, and won't stand to entertain any of you, which is always one of my goals. I don't know what I'm really trying to say, just basically informing you that I'm going to just try to pick and choose humorous anecdotes from my day and highlight those, but I am, in no way, belittling anything that has happened recently.

I got a new noise machine for my bedroom -- The Sound Soother 50. It was really expensive, but it came with a remote control, I can plug my iPod into it and use it as a speaker, and the sounds are incredibly real. I've been sleeping with "downpour" a lot and I like to nap with "bamboo chimes." Another favorite of mine is "clothes dyer." There are a few questionable ones like "pasture" and "buggy ride," like who the fuck wants to fall asleep to cows mooing. You'd have to be a country-ass bumpkin. "Heartbeat" is also kinda creepy, but I think that's supposed to be good for babies. I just had to get some sort of background noise to block out anything ambient. My brain has started taking sounds it hears while I'm sleeping, creating a terrifying story to explain the sound, and overlaying it on top of my actual sights and sounds as I sleepwalk. Technically, they're not nightmares, since nightmares are types of dreams, dreams only occur during REM, and my brain does not go into REM. Their official name is night terrors. Hahaha. Fucking great.

I've stopped taking Provigil. While the doctor said that it had nothing to do with my heart rate, I found myself with a resting heart rate of 145bpm. Just to put that in perspective, it should be less than 80bpm ... the only reason your heart should beat 145 times per minute is if you have just sprinted a 5k. That was a concern for me so I stopped the Provigil. It's been hard, but I'm feuling my body now with complex carbohydrates and natural fructose to offset the ill effects of ideopathic hypersomnia (aka excessive sleepiness, but ideopathic hypersomnia sounds more medical). A high resting heart rate is known as tachycardia. Fuck me sideways, I knew I was broken-hearted, but I didn't know I had a broken heart.

I'm looking forward to several appointments with doctors in the following weeks. I'm probably going to be having lots of surgeries and procedures to aid me in my breathing, and then we can shift focus to addressing these K-alpha complex waves my brain produces for no reason. Yippee.

I hung out last night with my most sabulous friend, Brett. We had a lot of fun. He said his father still reads my website. He was concerned about me and had wanted to put a comment on my comment-less post a couple back. He also said he had left me a comment once but wouldn't ever tell Brett which one. It took me all of half a second to say, "I bet he was the one who left me that 'Stone Age to the Space Age and still no follow up on what bar was first' comment after Febrehabruarii." He just spoke with him and sure enough, I was right. I know my website way too well. Like I said, I am both it's unforgiving master, and it's unwitting slave.

Next week I am meeting three days with my new personal trainer. We've set up a program for me that should have me around 15% body fat before summer. I'm refocusing my negative, self-destructive energy as of late into a rather obsessive dedication to self-improvement. I've already lost 12 pounds, but that was mostly from an unintentional anorexia, but I was pleased that I didn't rebound at all. I'm viewing eating now, not as an enjoyable social experience, but as a necessity to feul my body. I have been eating SO well for the past few days and I already feel infinitely better. Just wait, people, I'll come out the other end of this better for it. I fucking guarantee.

Have a good week at work, and I'll be trying to find things to talk about throughout the week. Laaaaaaaaaaaate.

Not only am I in a better mood after reading your blogs, I feel smarter too.

This might seem trivial, but since you rarely make a grammatical error, I had to ask. Is “feul” an intentional spelling error resulting from an earlier life experience, inside joke, or post that I’m not aware of, or did you just spell it wrong twice?

Just spelled it wrong. Suck my left nut if you can’t appreciate the blog for what it’s worth instead of nitpicking every error.

I didn’t mean to nitpick. It’s just that you often have intentional misspellings or ways of saying things that I can’t fully appreciate until the background story is known. And as I mentioned, since your grammatical errors are rare, I wanted to know if this was intentional or not. I apologize if it came across as “nitpicking”.

And of course I can appreciate your blog for what it’s worth; otherwise I wouldn’t bother reading it all the time.

Ahh cows mooing I would be right at home! LOL