Good morning, boys and girls. Today I greet you from the confines of my very spacious and comfortable bed. And although I am breaking one of the covenants of sleep by doing something other than sleeping or fucking in bed, I'm afraid I have very little choice. You see, it wasn't my internet that was broken, it was my wireless router. And since I know precious little about networking, and am employed somewhere where I basically do nothing but troubleshoot all day every day, I have very little interest in trying to fix it. So for now, I'm just going to plug in in my bedroom. Who knows, maybe if I ignore the problem long enough, it'll go away. Seems to work for everything else. At least Ryan Short gave me his extra 6' cable, so I could quit using the 6" cable that ties my router to the wall.

He gave it me to pay for the lunch that I made him. I think maybe you should all start calling me Sidesho With His Shoes Off. I was watching Ina Garten (Contessa With Her Shoes Off) the other day and she was making roasted tomato basil soup. And I thought to myself, "I could do that. I could fuckin do that." So I printed out the recipe and went to the store. The only edits I had to make were soy margarine instead of butter and vegetable stock instead of chicken broth. Cooking is so much easier than baking because you can make substitutions without it ruining everything. But seriously, folks, this soup was from absolute scratch. I chopped up onions and garlic cloves and sauteed them in margarine and olive oil with a sprinkle of red pepper flakes. Meanwhile my tomatoes cut in half were tossed in olive oil, salt, and pepper and were roasting in the oven. Then I mixed them with a can of whole tomatoes, vegetable stock, a shit ton of fresh basil, and thyme. After that boiled and simmered for 40 minutes, I busted out my brand new immersion blender and went to town. Awesome. I do have to say my tomato basil soup was a smidge better than La Madelines. And now that I'm confident in the recipe, I can totally tweak it to my liking.

Being a vegan is proving more challenging than good, clean living. But it is distracting me a little bit from the pains of withdrawl. Unfortunately, it's also making me gassy. I've never had gas before. It's bizarre. I have to assume that drastically altering my diet is to blame and hopefully it'll calm down once I get situated. Because I'll tell you one thing, I will either starve or explode before I break Febrehabruariii. I committed to this and I'm going to see it through til the end, but at this point, don't expect me to be a vegan again next year.

Best wishes to my fellow Febrehabruariiites, especially Matt Cweech who has taken this to the extreme and is ingesting nothing but lemonade for a month. You are truly more hardcore than I, sir. Laaaaaaaaaate.

As many of you know, mostly due to my constant reminders, yesterday I bid a sweet farewell to my tonsils. I have hated these things for years and years and years. They were too big and always getting in the way. And the slightest bit of disease in my bloodstream and they would swell up and start making out with each other. Nasty.

So I had a tonsillectomy. The week prior to the tonsillectomy, I googled things like, "What to expect after a tonsillectomy," "I am going to have a tonsillectomy," "Benefits of a laser tonsillectomy." I say these things in case anyone else is in my predicament and turns to the all knowing, all powerful Google for answers. I found several online forums dedicated entirely to people who have had tonsillectomies. Crazy, I know. They were all miserable. People were posting things like, "It's been 16 days and still no relief. I want to die." Talking all about how they can't take the pain but 3 weeks on a steady supply of painkillers was driving them insane. How malnurished they were from not being able to eat or swallow. Scary, scary stuff.

But I didn't have a traditional tonsillectomy. I had this brand new procedure done. My tonsils weren't actually removed, they were vaporized. And they didn't remove the entire thing, only about 90% of the tissue. You see, the tonsils sit in your throat and attach themselves in and among some muscle wall lining of your neck. In order to excise them, you must cut into that muscle -- hence unbearable pain. But you can get all the benefits of a full tonsillectomy by removing 90% of the tissue -- most certainly in my case since it was just an obstruction. The 10% of tissue they leave behind is the stuff that is attached to the muscle wall. No cutting, no pain.

I did have to endure once again getting numbed up. I had to take about 16 shots directly into the tonsils. Not pleasant. And you know how when you have a tooth pulled, you're like totally numb, but you can still feel them ripping your tooth out, your head jerks back and forth, you hear the root cracking free from the jawbone. Okay, it's like that. It didn't hurt to have my tonsils lasered into vapor, but I could feel it. And it was weird and unpleasant. Not to mention the fact that every few minutes we had to stop so I could blow the smoke out of my mouth. Acrid, nasty, foul smoke. Although once I did successfully blow a smoke ring and the doctor was impressed. And of course, the farther into the tonsil that we ventured, the less numbing medication had made it down there, so occasionally we had to stop and swab the gaping open wounds in my mouth with more numbing agent.

It sounds horrific, and it was, but nothing compared to the alternative. So this is my advice to you all. If you're thinking of getting a tonsillectomy -- STOP! Do not do a fucking thing until you've spoken to me and we're making sure you're getting a true laser tonsillectomy, not just using a laser to cauterize the wounds to reduce bleeding. Why would you bother listening to me? Let's just say that yesterday for lunch, I had Chic-Fil-A. For dinner, I had a large slice of Pastazio's sausage pizza. And on the way home from the movies, we stopped off at Wendy's. This morning I woke up... no pain. I am beyond ecstatic, especially since I took a week off work to recover and it appears I'm already done.

Everything that can be done, has been done. If this doesn't do the trick, then I'm just gonna have to fight, fuck, or hit the fence. I don't really know what the means but Justin emailed me about Con-Air the other day and random quotes got stuck in my head as a result. I'm off now, it's time for a pill cocktail and a lazy day. Peace out.

My apologies to anybody who has had a birthday party in the past that I've attended. Because you've all been trumped. Let me tell you a little bit about the best birthday party ever.

I guess I should start by wishing Adam a very happy 23rd. His birthday was this last Thursday and he threw a humdinger of a shindig on Saturday. We rode around Dallas on a g*d damned charter bus drinking, singing, dancing, and bar hopping. It was so much fun. We were on the bus from about 10 until a little after 2 and went to the Walrus Bar, Iron Cactus, and ended up at Sherlocks in Addison. His friends were all super and I drank more than I have in a really long time. Daniel and I both slept the next day until 5pm. I haven't done that in years. I can't imagine how much trouble Adam went through to put all of this together, but I encourage all of you to copy him. And invite me.

In other news, just a remind that the ol' tonsils come out on Friday. So I'll be out of commission for a while. They claim one day. I'm planning on one week minimum. Please don't visit since I'm removing a part of my immune system and won't be fully protected again until it fully heals, but feel free to send me get-well-soon money. Laaaaaaaaate.

I don't get it. I had such a good feeling and it didn't pan out. Weird. Daniel still has a few numbers to check so maybe it'll still work out. You know, you buy one lottery ticket one time and you totally expect to win millions. Life sure is crazy, ain't it? *crooked smile, head shake, casual lean against shoulder height shelf*

So I guess I have to go to work tomorrow. But all the news today wasn't bad. I went to the sleep doctor to discuss the logistics of having a tonsillectomy. I really like the way they take a body part, add -ectomy, and define that as the removal of that body part. Anyway, a tonsillectomy is considered one of the most painful surgeries for adults. It can take like 3 weeks before your life returns to anything like normal. Uuuuuntil NOW!

My doctor said no removing of the tonsils until he gets his new machine. It's some laser that vaporizes tissue. So with a local anesthetic and 30 minutes they vaporize about 90% of the tonsil tissue. And, the healing time is one day. They give you Tylenol and tell you to go to work the next day. Infuckingcredible. So I'm going to be a guinea pig for him. It's going to be so awesome.

Blech, I want guacamole but I think I'll go to bed instead. Later sluts.

I finally did it. I've waited for 2 full years and the other day, I just decided to do it. I'm speaking, of course, about curtains for my bedroom. I was really daunted by the task of keeping my vertical blinds up. I could take them down, but then I'd have to store them and I have nowhere to store them. And to cover them means curtain rod extenders and screwing into studs, and I know nothing about any of that. So I came up with an idea. Instead of big beautiful curtains, I got blackout fabric. It's thin, it's light, and it blocks 100% of the light. I measured each window, cut out a piece of fabric that fit it perfectly, folded the top over, put a few grommets in it and hung it on nails. I can take them down, put them up, fold them in half to get some heat in the winter -- you name it. From the outside it looks all white, just like the vertical blinds, and from the inside, all you see is the vertical blinds, just like the vertical blinds. I couldn't be happier with myself. I have had a string of successful projects. I hope it doesn't end. I can't wait to be hungover this weekend and spend allllll fucking day in bed.

Speaking of bed ... my sleeping is much better. I have been on time to work 3 of the 4 days this week. That's unheard of. I even started showering in the morning instead of at night because I have so much extra time. I was pretty ecstatic. That, sadly and predictably, has faded. I could feel myself building up a sleep debt as each day went by and this morning I finally had to pay it back. I was one hour late to work. Today, coincidentally, was also the day I got the results of my take-home sleep test. I no longer stop breathing 70-90 times an hour. Now it's 22. 22 is the magick number. The lady from the doctor's office asked me how I'd been feeling and I said, "Much better, but not great." And she said, "Oh, how funny. I was just about to say your test results look much better, but not great." At least I'm no longer severe and am now considered moderate. It's looking like the tonsil are going to come out. I'm shying away from it, but I know that I'll eventually do it. I'll keep you all posted.

I bought a pumpkin today. It was an impulse buy. All I wanted were the seeds. I tossed them with butter and salt and roasted them in the oven. They're delicious. My culinary skill grows little by little every day. I can add that to the list with roasted chicken and blueberry pancakes. Rawk.

Have you ever heard of the mosquito frequency? It's this thing that businesses are using to cut down on teenagers loitering outside. It emits a sound at around 17kHz. Apparently teenagers can hear it and it annoys the fuck out of them, but adults cannot hear it. Trey told me about it at work today so we googled it. I found an MP3 of the sound and hit play. It was maddening. Trey accused me of not really hitting play. He couldn't fuckin' hear it! It didn't take long for everyone 25 and under in my immediate area to come over and ask what the hell the sound was. Then Trey believed me it was real. Which is funny because I'm the one that didn't believe him it existed. We gathered up all the old people around us and not one of them could hear it. One guy put it as his ring tone on his cell phone. Apparently teenagers are also using it to their advantage to allow their cell phones to ring during class without the teacher hearing it. I thought it was fascinating enough to share it with you all. CLICK HERE to listen to the most annoying sound in the world. And tell me if you can hear it.

Methinks it's time for me to go to bed. Gotta stick with the sleep rules now that they're slightly effective. Night, sluts.

Als ich mein kleines Diagramm heute morgen saege, beachtete ich, daß mein Punkt über Deutschland gewachsen war. Das bedeutet, daß ich mehr als zehn Besucher von dort gehabt habe. Da ich nur eine Person in Deutschland kenne, muß es mein Freund Marc sein, die meine Web site liest. So wollte ich erklären ihm hallo.

I'm takin over the world, baby. In fact, on BBC.com, they just had an article about the happiest countries in the world. Denmark came in first place. The U.S. was 23rd. This little map shows happiness in the world with red being the most happy and yellow being the most African. I took the liberty of overlaying my ClustrMap dots on top of this map. If you'll notice you'll see that the highest concentration of my dots are all over the happiest countries of the world. Coincidence? I think not. I am the light.

I made Daniel go out to Antonio's with me last night because I wanted to attempt to have a cocktail. I wasn't sure if the alcohol would sting my throat, or if alcohol would go right up my nose as water as been doing. (Did I already mention that the uvula is responsible for closing off the nasal passage when swallowing?) Well, I am happy to report that I had two "very, very dirty Absolut martinis," my drink of choice these days, and had absolut-ly no problems. I'm back, baby! Although, I did have a problem that maybe you alchys can help me with....

My first martini was delicious. And really, there's so much olive brine in my glass that it's hard to taste much of anything but that. However, I thought I detected an overbearingness of vermouth. When the waiter came to see if I wanted a refill I said, "Yes, oh and I think I forgot to mention, I also wanted it dry." And he said, "Oh, I'm sorry. So, more vermouth? You got it."

I was under the impression that a "dry martini" -- or a "dry vodka martini" for you purists -- would contain less vermouth than a regular martini. The research I've done online this morning suggests I'm correct. Wikipedia says, "A dry martini uses less dry vermouth than normal, perhaps a dash or lace of the glass." That makes no sense that a dry martini would use less dry vermouth, but it matches up with my original assumption. Am I right or am I retarded? What I want is a martini glass filled with equal parts of olive juice and ice cold vodka. How would one go about ordering this?

I was trying to take a picture of my tonsils for you. They are so swollen and painful that I ended up taking myself to the emergency room yesterday morning. I wish you could all see them but even the best picture that I was able to take is a high contrast, blurry, red mess. They really are disgusting though, trust me. Turns out, I have an infection, but since I'm already on penicillin to ward off bacterial infections, and there's nothing to be done for viral infections, they basically told me to go home. If the pain doesn't subside soon, I'm going to go absolutely crazy. I'm actually sick of being on pain medication. Never thought I'd say that.

As I was traipsing through the pictures on my camera, I found these that I took the night I invented ash tray liners. Daniel has these really cool ash trays. Anytime we smoke inside, Daniel has to dump them out into some aluminum foil (to avoid the old-cigaratte smell eminating from the trashcan) and wipe them out with Clorox wipes. We call it "the dump and the wipe." I was pretty sure I could find a way to eliminate the need with an aluminum foil disposable liner. It took me a while, and a bunch of prototypes, but I finally came up with an easily repeatable manufacturing process. It's patented, though. I just thought I'd show it to you because you might want to come up with your own patented process if you have ashtrays. It really does simplify life. Of course, you could always just make your ashtrays completely out of aluminum foil like I do. I'm getting pretty good at it.

KaboomTwon has been rescheduled for Labor Day weekend, September 3rd. (No, that wasn't a typo. I've decided to call our second KaboomTown party, KaboomTwon.) Daniel and I want to serve mojitos at this one. My fear isn't that they're hard or time consuming to make, it's that I can't come up with a good name for them. I assume we'll be having Grizzy Gooses and Kaboomcrown'n'cokes again, and "mojito" just doesn't stand up to that. So let's have a contest to come up with a Labor Day, firework, KaboomTwon inspired name for a Mojito. The winner might get an invitation to the partay.

And finally, let's close with our product placement of the day. Today we feature the simplehuman line of trash receptacles. These are, in my opinion, the finest trashcans money can buy. I've featured here, my 40 liter semi-round step-on can as well as Daniel's 30 liter pull-out model. He doesn't have a lot of floor space in his kitchen so it was the perfect model. They also make their own simplehuman trash bags that are custom fitted to our cans. They are the finest trash bags, way better than any Glad force flex or any shit like that. These are really thick and truly won't rip when you stuff them full. I love it. Is anybody listening to me?

This pain is bordering on unbearable. I've already burned through my first prescription for painkillers and my attempts to ration the lone refill aren't going so well. I pretty much have to take one every 4 hours. I haven't been able to stay a full day at work yet because of the pain. My throat is so swollen that my tonsils are nearly touching. It's probably infected because it's so bright red. If you're thinking about having a uvulectomy, I suggest you plan ahead and take a week off of work. The only relief I get is after a pill kicks in and I sleep for a few hours. If I sleep much more than that, it's really painful when I wake up, so I'm going to try to spend the weekend doing nothing but healing and sleeping.

It hurts so much to eat, well, swallow. I am supposed to drink ice water in small sips to try and take the swelling down, but the cold hurts on top of swallowing. I eat a lot at each meal to try and space them out as much as possible. I have a huge, gaping open wound directly in the path of all food and liquids on their path to my stomach. Since I don't have an IV, I don't know much choice but to keep doing it, but I dread the thought.

My wishlist hasn't turned out exactly like I thought it would. It was intended to help me plan far in advance for the purchases I wanted to make. Instead, it's become a grocery list for the past few days. Whenever I'm hurting, I find that spending large sums of money always brings a smile to my face. Today I got a couple new pillows and all new pillowcases for every pillow I have. It's not enough to just put one pillowcase per pillow though, because then sometimes the case folds back and you can see the pillow. Unacceptable, so we put two on each pillow. Not exactly cheap when you're dealing with DaMask Stripe sheets, which also happens to be the product placement for today. These sheets are so comfy and stylish. Pick your favorite color and then pick yourself up a set. I have the chocolate brown to match my ceiling and wall stripes and then I got red for the pillows that I keep on the couch. Rawk!

Oh, Daniel and I will be in Washington D.C. August 8th through the 16th with an excursion up to NYC the 11th through the 14th. Yes, I'm returning to New York despite my vow to never do that. I have a feeling this trip will be exponentially better than the last. Anyway, if you reside in either of these cities, let's plan a get-together. Til then!

Ding, dong, the witch is dead. Which old witch? My fucking uvula!

I went in for my post Pillar Procedure prognosis and they said I was healed up nicely. They mentioned how big my uvula is, I said I fucking hated it and wanted it gone, 60 seconds later it was over. Once again, I had to get numbed up which involves sucking on a foam popsicle soaked in syrupy medicine. Once again, I got injections in my soft palate. Then he took a laser and sliced my fucking uvula off. It was so wretched having that burning flesh smoke in my mouth and nose again. In fact, I've been trying to mask the flavor all day with popsicles. It's worth it though, because that fucker is gone. Mwahahaha.

Since I wasn't planning on having any surgery, I wasn't planning on blogging, so now I have to fill in some more info. I was planning on doing some more product placements, so we'll proceed with that. FridgeTape, ya'll. This shit kicks ass. It's almost as thin as normal tape, but it's magnetic. You can put it on the back of pictures when you put them on the Fridge. It has helped me get rid of all of my ugly ass old magnets and allow you to see the entire picture. I couldn't live without it. Sorry there's not much more to say about that, it's pretty fucking self-explanatory, so go buy some.

I should start charging money for advertising that sweet. Aaaanywho, as you can well imagine, I got pain pills today, so it's time for me to go abuse prescription drugs and take an 8 hour nap. Laaaaaaaaate.

Okay, I know I talk about my uvula wayyyy too much for comfort, but I just had to let you all know that it's grown again. I was trying to explain to my coworkers where exactly it was resting in my throat, so I drew this picture on my dry erase board at work. I was pretty proud of it, so I thought I'd share it with you all. I CANNOT get a decent picture of it with my digital camera, so drawings will have to suffice until I can get a willing photographer to help me out. It is absolutely resting directly on my gag reflex. Last night, I came so close to throwing up due entirely to the length of my uvula that I actually found myself hunched over the toilet fighting the impending liquid laugh. Some day... some day, I will cut this fucker out and be fucking done with it. I have to wait until July 18th before the doctor will do any more surgery. I don't snore at all anymore, but I'm still exhausted, so I'm hardly worried about my physical well being.

Sorry, I really thought I had another story lined up, but it turns out the drawing was it. Hope you liked it! I'm going to go to bed now to continue this life I like to call one long nightmare I can't seem to wake up from. Later, have-nots!

I just got my new Chuck Norris shirt in the mail. If you go to ChuckNorrisFacts.com you can order one too. Also, if you haven't been to ChuckNorrisFacts.com then you are an idiot and you need to go read all the facts immediately; they are riotous. The best part of ordering your shirt is you get to design it yourself. You can choose from like 30 slogans and icons and size, arrange, color and combine them however you please. I <3 Technology.

I went to the Richardson Wildflower Festival on Saturday. Don't get me wrong; I like wildflowers as much as the next guy, but the reason I went was to see my beloved, Lisa Loeb. She was fantastic. There are few things in life that make me smile more than hearing "Stay" performed live by Lisa. When she got done, Daniel, Jenny, Steven and I moved into the shade by the gate to smoke a cigarette and look for Lisa's sister, Debby, so we could yell at her that she rocks. She was on the reality show #1 Single with Lisa and she ... well ... rocks. It turned out to be a good vantage point because Lisa walked right by us as she was paraded to the autograph signing table. I yelled, "I love you Lisa!" and Daniel yelled, "Great show!" and she totally looked at us, smiled, said hi, and thanked us. Eat that, you idiots that waited in line!

Today, I got up early to go to my Pillar Procedure check up. I ran down to my car with about 20 minutes left to make my appointment in time. When I got to the garage, I saw that my left, rear tire was fucking flat. I have never had a flat tire in my life. I called my dad to ask what I should do. He suggested changing it. DERRRRR. And that DERRRRR is for me, not him, since I honestly hadn't thought of that. My dad taught me how to change a tire once when I was 15. I thought it was an absolute bore, but thank g*d he did that. I managed to change it myself, with many dramatic text messages to Daniel claiming I couldn't. I was pretty proud of myself. I made it to my appointment about an hour late, but it wasn't a problem. Everything is healing nicely. No uvula snipping until everything is completely healed. Doctor's orders. Damn. Best part of the day? Both my checkup and fixing my "screw"ed up tire were FREE! FREE I TELLS YA! Thanks National Tire and Battery.

UPDATE!!!!1! Holy shit, I can't believe I forgot to include, like, the whole reason I started blogging today. This one requires a little bit of a back story that some of you have probably already heard but I'll tell it again because it's the greatest story ever told. One night while I was studying in the MSC with Allison our freshman year, I got up to use the bathroom. Having forgotten that they locked the downstairs bathroom at 9pm every night, I was quite embarassed when I walked full speed into a locked door. Furtively glancing around to make sure no one saw, I ran upstairs to pee. On my way back down, it hit me like a ton of bricks. As I told Allison the story, I looked at her and said, "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" and we quickly gathered our things and ran giggling to a hiding place near the bathroom. We made a crappy hand-made sign on the back of a flier that read, "DOOR NOT WORKING PROPERLY. PUSH HARD!!!" Only "HARD" was underlined like 8 times. Then we used some tape from another flier to affix it to the locked bathroom door. We hid behind the stairs leading into the cafeteria and waited. Guy after guy after guy after guy walked up, read the sign, and then proceeded to fight with the door for a few minutes. One Chinese dude took a flying leap at the door and hurt himself. Two frat boys sat there each taking turns screaming at each other, "DUDE! It says push HARD!" All the while, we sat not 10 feet away with tears streaming down our faces, fingers firmly pinching our noses closed and our other hand suffocating the hysterical laughter. It still goes down as one of the best nights of my life. So you can imagine how hard I laughed when I went to use the restroom at NTB and found this sign on the door. I didn't want to photoshop it so you'd know that it was a real picture, but it reads:

You can only imagine how many times I looked around to make sure two teenagers weren't perched within viewing distance laughing at me. Fucking punks.

Kelly went away for a while. When she returned, she brought with her a man named Alexander. Alexander has more money than you or I will ever see in 10 lifetimes. Aside from that little tid-bit, he's a really cool, laid back, generous guy. Him and Kelly get along really well. That said, I've had a few firsts as of late.

First, I broke the Sidesho-Land Speed Record. I'm not sure what it was before, probably about 100mph that one time Allison and I made it from College Station to Dallas in just over 2 hours. The new record is 150mph. Did I mention Alexander used to be a race car driver? He has some really awesome car, but I obviously don't remember what kind it is. The other night Daniel, Matt Cweech, his friend Sean, and I met up with Kelly and Alexander here in the circle. Afterwards, he took us for a spin down the Tollway. Treating lanes as if they were a mere suggestion, we weaved our way in and around traffic until we hit a top speed of just around 150mph. I was pretty scared, but it was such a rush.

Shortly thereafter, we were invited out to the boat. Yup, I broke the Sidesho-Water Speed Record. Can you believe that I've never been to Lake Lewisville? Or I hadn't, rather. Well, I have now and I must say the next time you get out that way, you simply must do it on a certified yacht. This thing had a little picnic table in the back, and a couch, and a bedroom, and a kitchen, and a bathroom, and it hauled ass too. It was so nice. He let me drive it a little bit even though I didn't know what the fuck I was doing. And when we were sitting out front on top of the boat, he would veer wildly trying to knock us off. I spent the whole day out there sipping on beers, chatting it up with Daniel, Hunter, Lauren, Matt Cweech, and of course, Kelly and Alexander. It was just a gorgeous day and way too much fun. I'm hoping we do that like every weekend.

I had to get those stories out there because I'm gonna have a different story to tell when I get home in a few hours. Daniel is about to take me down to see the doctor that does the Pillar Procedure. I'm getting that done as well as a turbinate cobilation (?). They're gonna stick foam pillars in my throat and shove a laser up my nose, essentially. Here's a link to that article Ryan Short wrote about me for the Dallas Voice. I don't think I ever shared it with you all. So wish me luck. It probably won't help me sleep, but it couldn't hurt. Ciao bellas.

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.

I know you were all expecting an immediate reaction to my Thanksgiving, since it is my favorite holy day of the year, so I apologize for keeping you in suspense. In all honesty, it wasn't wild and or crazy, just nice. I drove up to OKC to see my sister. Her daughter is about 8 months old now. It's totally an age you don't want to miss out on, but, c'mon ... babies don't do much. She can't talk yet, she can't walk yet, so while I wouldn't trade seeing her for anything, it was pretty low key.

Our turkey was pretty good. I don't know that it was 140 dollars good, but it was scrumptious. The best part of the Heritage Turkey is that it comes with a barcode. When you enter that barcode at their website, it brings up your turkey's personal history. Our hen was born in March of 2005 and raised on a farm in Kansas. She liked roosting in tall trees. It was kind of morbid, so we gave her a eugoogaly before we tore into her roasted butter basted carcass. Thanks be given. We shared the meal with my niece's other grandparents, the baptits preacher. The baptits preacher doesn't drink or dance or believe anyone but him is getting into the pearly gates. Well since there was a baptits at the table (you guys have noticed I'm spelling it 'baptits' on purpose by now right? good) that meant that I couldn't drink either. So annoying.

As soon as he left we busted out the beer and scotch and played poker and me and my dad robbed my brother-in-law blind. It was too funny. Unfortunately though, the next day my sister was feeling sick. Her daughter was already under the weather and kind of cranky (which is not her usual demeanor). So my parents and I opted to leave a bit earlier than planned and drop off at Winstar for some gambalaya. I didn't win anything but I did lose the 20 bucks I'd won from poker, so I came out even. That's pretty good for me since I have a gambling problem ... my problem is that I suck at it.

Thanksgiving plans? I'm going to host one in December when Owen is in town. It will be held at the Hamptons by my gracious host Miles. Not only will there be booze there, but I imagine it will be at least 8 of the 9 side dishes. Bourbon soup, here we come. Look forward to your invitation to that, even though most of you won't receive one.

Lastly, I am done with sleep medicine. No more CPAPs, no more machines, no more masks, no more pills, no more studies, no more labs, no more brain waves, no more oxygen monitors, no more REM, NO MORE NO MORE NO MORE. I went to the doctor today, returned everything they'd given me, shook their hands and left. Best of all? No more payments. I just need to work on getting back to where I was 7 months ago before I started all of this nonsense. I was tired, but I was functioning. That's the combo I'm trying to get back to. If it turns out that I can't do it on my own, I will accept the advice of the doctor and return for an unlimitedly refilled subscription to Provigil, but I'm hoping it won't come to that.

Miles bought me a prescription to Details! UH! Thanks Miles!

I went to the sleep lab again. This time, I slept normally at home for 8 hours and then woke up at my normal time and went to the hospital. I got to eat breakfast and then had to take a nap. I took 30 minute naps at 9, 11, 1, 3 and 5. If during any one of these tests, you happen to fall asleep within 10 minutes, that is a cause for some concern. But there are so many factors that they take the average. Cause some people will fall asleep really easily after lunch and stuff. Anywho, the AVERAGE time it took me to fall asleep was under 2 minutes. So I have scientific verification that I am tired. Awesome.

That's the reason I was afraid I had narcolepsy. But the difference between me and a narcoleptic is that they fall directly into REM immediately, and, well, we all know, I never go into REM. So I'm just way tired. And they don't know why. Well, they do know why. Because I have horrible, horrible apnea. But we cured that and it made it worse. So ... what to do?

They finally took Miles' advice. Miles always told me that my problem wasn't sleeping, it was being awake. And they make pills for that. Well, I got some. It's called Provigil. It is a modafinil stimulant that has none of the addictive side effects of an amphetamine. Please try to remember the name of my medication because I am taking the good shit -- the name brand. Nothing generic here. There are some knock-offs on the market that you can get, though. The first one I found is called Brovigil. It keeps you awake all day... and can also work as a date rape drug when placed in a freshman girl's Zima. Then, there is Movigil. Movigil smells good, but oddly enough tastes like well-vodka and Astroglide. Don't ask me how I know that. So ultimately, I decided I'd go with the Pro- version of the medication. There was one substitute I considered opting for, but it was just wayyyy too bitter. It was called Sidesho-vigil.

I am currently dosing with the Provigil, but will probably eventually be taking 200mg in the morning and 200mg right after lunch. I don't know that it's done me any good just yet, but we shall see. Once I get stabilized with the correct amount of stimulants, I am going to try the CPAP again. And then once we get to a point where I can sleep (and function the next day) using the CPAP, I'm sure I'll go in for another round of tests. My doctor said he's turned me into a research study since he's never seen anything like this before. I asked, but he said that it didn't mean that he would be paying me from now on instead of vice versa.

It's a never ending saga. I'm taking a break from it all this weekend in Austin to go to Leslie's house warming. And I might be going to Detroit on Monday for a week. That's still up in the air. Sheezalmighty, grood times. Holla back, yungin'.

And before you even ask ... $20.

I go to the sleep doctor tomorrow morning. From the research I've done, I have a feeling my life is going to consist of a little bit more of this than anything else. There is no mechanized cure for whatever it is that afflicts me; it's all chemical from this point on. I'm just crossing my fingers that I get a subscription to some kind of medication with a street value. *wink* *wink* *nudge* *nudge* Y'get what I'm sayin? Open up shop, beeyotch.

I'm actually pretty nervous. I make a lot of jokes about not sleeping, mostly because it's my favorite defense mechanism. The last time that I went to the doctor and they told me that I should stop using the CPAP because it wasn't the cure and that we'd have to do more testing, I sat in the parking lot for a while and cried. It's not so much that I care that I have to do all of this. I mean, I've gone through enough geriatric treatment for arthritic knees that I'm not hung up on wanting to be normal. Let's be honest, normal is just a synonym for average. But the utter frustration of the whole experience did get to me. That coupled with being exhausted, tends to weaken your barriers. But, fear not, dear viewers, for my optimism knows no bounds. I just know that tomorrow I'm gonna get some good news. Ooh, I hope they subscribe me some vicadin; I love that shit.

Tonight I got to see Miles' fabulous new residence. We are all very excited about the time that will be spent there together. Congrats Miles! Even though Mr. Sabulous and I were the only two people you forgot to mention on your website! This weekend I'm going to Round Rock to attend Miss Lesbie Ann's housewarming party. If any of you are in the area, give me a call and you can come to the party. I RSVP'ed to the e-vite with +46 guests just to throw off the guest count. Also, if anyone from Dallas would like to go with me, I'd more than welcome the company. Thanks and gig this. Later bitches.

You know that scene in Spiderman when Peter Parker gets bitten by the genetically altered (or radioactive, for you comic buffs) spider? Then he goes home and everything is spinning. When he wakes up, he no longer needs his glasses and he looks in the mirror and he's all buff. And all of a sudden, he has super human strength and boundless energy. He goes running down the stairs and pulls a sweet freestyle walking move. That, my friends, is how I felt this morning.

I used my CPAP for real for the first time last night. I still woke up several times when the delicate balance between my apartment temperature and the humidifier temperature caused large amounts of condensation to spill down my nasal passage, but it was still amazing. I have never felt this good in my life. In fact, I made a little graphic so you could all see just how I felt. It was the first morning in a long, long time that I didn't have to drag my ass out of bed while desiring to shoot myself in the forehead. On the drive to work, I was alert. I was productive. I didn't involuntarily slump over and fall asleep after lunch. Leaving work, I was still feeling well rested and awake. I went to work out and had more energy than I knew what to do with. I benched more than I ever have. I didn't fall asleep in the tanning bed. I came home and am feeling sooooo grood. This is exactly what I have been dreaming of (well, not literally since I've never had REM before).

My life will never be the same.

Run! Here comes Hurricane Rita! To the left you'll see the latest image of Hurricane Rita as she approaches the Texas coastline. Damn, she looks delicious. Everyone and their dogs (literally) are evacuating Galveston and Houston. I've heard it's pretty chaotic. I45 is all lanes northbound at the moment. My brother left Houston like 12 hours ago and is just now making it to Dallas. This shit is scary. They say that it could still be a Category 1 hurricane when it hits Dallas. Fuck! We're gonna get flooding rain this weekend. I know it could be worse if I lived on the coast, and I hope everyone there is okay. Luckily, I live on the 3rd floor, so all of my things should be okay, in case you were worried. I probably shouldn't make jokes like photoshopping a devastating storm onto a frosty glass, but meh, what'reyagonnado?

In other noise, my CPAP doesn't work. In a little twist of irony, I managed to acquire myself a little head cold the day that my machine came home with me. My nose is completely stuffed. No air in, no air out, therefore the CPAP does nothing. Sucks. I still haven't gotten to experience real sleep, but as soon as I do, you'll all be the first to know. Oh well, at least I still look like this while I sleep.

Everyone be safe this weekend, get the fuck away from the gulf, and if any evacuees need a place to stay, you're more than welcome to come here. Now let's all go get a 'rita!

Last night I spent the night in the sleep lab once again. This time I slept with a CPAP on. We started out with just trying on a few different masks. None of them were particularly comfortable, but I chose the one that did not stick like a half inch into my nostril. Honestly, whoever designed some of these masks are medieval sons-a-bitches. So I chose the one I disliked the least and then went to sleep.

They started off on a really low pressure, essentially allowing me to choke and gasp for a while and then gradually increased the pressure until I stopped completely. Everyone was pretty surprised, given the severity of my condition, how low the optimal pressure was. I know it was 6 (and they were expecting somewhere around 18). For those scientifically minded people, I'm pretty sure that's centimeters of water. They said my age may have something to do with how readily my body would adapt to a low pressure. Usually it's saggy 60-year-olds who need a CPAP. Because they allowed me to have "events" for the first part of the night, they couldn't tell me exactly how much better I was with the CPAP, but they guessed my 70-80 times an hour should be reduced to 5 times per night. Yesssssss.

I'm really just glad I have some public forum on which I can bring about some awareness of sleep apnea. This CPAP not only allows me to sleep (I had a dream last night while laying on my back ... probably the first ever) but it eliminates my snoring. Anybody who has ever spent the night with me can attest that a machine strapped to my face is infinitely better than my snoring. If you have insurance and trouble sleeping, man, just fucking go to a sleep lab. They could really help you. I cooked up a batch of these bracelets. If you'd like one, send me $20, idiot.

I appreciate everyone's well wishes last night when I had my away message up. It said, "I'm going to sleep now ... for the first time in my life. Wish me luck." I had several good lucks, a few I love yous, etc., etc. Then there was our good friend Thommi who had this to say:

Fucking bitch. The first night of my life where I'm supposed to get medically treated for uninterrupted sleep and he expects me to wake up and write him a paper. Last things last. When you see me out, keep in mind that you're going to wake up next to this:

This has turned into the weekend from hell. They pulled what they glibly described as "the ol' bait and switch." My "3 day all expenses paid weekend in New York City" has turned into "working 18 hours a day in Queens while commuting from South Jersey all over Labor Day weekend." I'd have to say I rarely if ever get this pissed. It has just been a disaster. My boss and boss's boss and boss's boss's boss aren't happy about how things went down either, so without divulging anything that would get me dooced, they've promised to make it up to me. And I know they will. And while I'm here I'm working hard. I've just never been so slighted before.

It's all thankless too, that's the best part. So just in case any of you were jealous, which I know some of you were, because quite honestly, I'm awesome, this is one of those times when you can lean your lawn chair way back as you bask in the simplicity of your own living room. I'm having no fun at all.

So I won't even get to see New York City, besides what I see from the highways as I traverse my way from Jersey to NYC through toll roads, turn pikes, and bridges. The bridges here have tolls as high as 9 dollars. Insanity. I am making my way pretty well though. Today I was chatting with my sister on the drive home and took a wrong split in the highway and ended up in Williamsburg. With my limited knowledge of the city I was able to make it back to Queens and then start my trip over again. I kinda love the city itself. It's rather sexy. I just wish I could enjoy it.

Enough complaining though. I was supposed to come home the 16th and I just changed my flight to the 9th. They can eat me if they don't like it. I informed my boss that I was coming home early and he encouraged me to do so. It's so nice to have management that really and truly backs you up and is understanding and respectful. That's what's lacking here.

No NYC for me, but yay I'm coming home. I can't wait to be home. In two weeks I go back to the sleep clinic to get my Constant Positive Air Pressure (CPAP) machine calibrated. Another night in the sleep lab, ugh! The last one wasn't as bad as I thought. You know how I said I didn't sleep at all? Well I did. I slept for six and a half hours. I just didn't realize it because I rarely made it out of the first stage of sleep. I only hit REM for 20 minutes, so I basically have been getting about 20 minutes of sleep a night for the past decade. It's nice to know I'm not crazy.

The apnea though. Lordy, lordy! A normal 24 year old probably wakes up during the course of the night about 5 times for any range of reasons. I, on the other hand, again, because I'm awesome, wake up 70 fucking times an HOUR!1!! They classify that as "severe." No shit. And every time I wake up it is because I've stopped breathing. So I stop breathing 70 times per hour. I'll spare you the hassle of pulling up your desktop calculator -- That's roughly every 51 seconds. Not exactly conducive to sleep. But this CPAP stops that from happening, meaning I could hit REM for 8 hours in one night. Holy shit, can you imagine what a difference that would make in my life?!

A few people have separately expressed the same concern. What if my personality changes on account of this? Think about it. How much more easy going are you after you've just pulled an all-nighter? Just kinda lazily making through the day. Miles even commented that when he's really tired he gets loopy and funny. I'm like that all the time. What if when I'm well rested I'm a really serious asshole? Hard to imagine, I know, I know.

Anyway, I gotta go piss and moan a little more to my parents, I just wanted you all to know that I'm miserable, so you could at least feel a little better about your own Labor Day weekend. An ULDE:IYDKYDG this is not. THIS time when I get back I'm not going nowhere, no how. So all those parties I've promised you all, we're gonna have. Unfortunately medical costs have bankrupted me, but I still have enough $$$ to get bombed. So this weekend, Ryan Short specifically, it's on!

Two weeks later, I have finally arrived back home. Getting from Cincinnati to Austin was an ordeal. It took right around 12 hours total. First my plane from Cincinnati to Chicago was delayed by the hurricane. When it finally arrived, we were delayed by a problem at O'Hare. By the time I got to Chicago, my connecting flight was long gone. My new flight was then canceled and I ended up getting to Austin-Bergstrom at 1am. A long cab ride later I was finally at Leslie's.

Leslie's apt was low-key and fun. We sat around drinkin' wine and brewskis and watching Food Network and Napoleon Dynamite. Leslie just bought a house! Yay! Her housewarming party should be sometime around October and I cannot wait. We drove by the house and it is too cute. Even though the street name is dirrty.

I drove back to Dallas today and finally got to see my buddy, Tuna. I'm a little disconcerted by the fact that he no longer has a tail fin. I'm not sure what happened there, but he is a uniplegic now. Poor guy. He is not in a good mood. Thanks to Mr. Kenderdine for taking such doting care of my fish.

I went and had coffee with Mikey since he's staying up in Plano while he interviews here in Dallas. Good times, good times. Alright, I gotta go to bed, but I wanted to let you all know that I made it back alive. I'm not really looking forward to returning to work tomorrow, but I'm going to the sleep clinic tomorrow night, so I have something to look forward to. Here's to my last night of apnea ridden sleep. Huzzah!

I think I might need to start a Sleep Files of sorts. This will be last installment in that epic saga for a while. I went to the clinic today. They asked a lot of intelligent questions. They said I definitely need to come back and spend a night in their sleep lab. If anybody wants to go with me, we can totally spoon ... though I'm not sure if that's allowed.

The doctor was also kind enough to point out the two physical features I am probably the most self conscious about (although that term is just relative since I'm not really self conscious). He asked me if I'd ever broken my nose and then seemed to think I was lying to him when I said no. He said I have a deviated septum that could be contributing to my problem. He also commented on my overbite and said that my lower mandible being farther back could be pressing my tongue against the back of my throat as I sleep. Both of these could be corrected with very painful surgery, but I know a thing our two about blindingly painful surgeries, so I'd be willing to go along with it if they thought I needed it. That's kind of a last resort and they're not even sure it would come to that until I complete the sleep test. Still, if I did do that, I'd totally have a cosmetic surgeon come along for the ride to make the pain and suffering and rehabilitation worth it.

That sleep test won't be happening until I return from Cincinnati, though, so we can close this chapter for a while. I was quite tired at my appointment today due to breaking the sleep rules last night to go downtown for a couple glasses of wine with JD. Definitely need to make a habit of that.

Today at work, my body builder coworker delivered my 10 POUND BAG of whey protein that I told him I wanted. I am now supplementing my diet. But seriously, 10 pounds is sooo much more than I thought it was. Picture like a bag of dog food, only completely filled with powder. I laughed so hard when I saw it. It's going to last me well past its 2007 expiration date. So I came home from the workout, drank my shake, and then cleaned Tuna's tank. It was way past due. He seems rather pleased that I finally got around to it. I set him next to the laptop while I was in the bathtub scrubbin his rocks. When I came back out he was surfing around Friendster. Did he add you?

Finally, at lunch today somebody made a mention of an alias. All three of us in rapid succession offered up our aliases, mine being Donovan Blankenship. Then that made me think of Joey and Phoebe being Ken Adams and Regina Philange. And naturally that led me to think about how Allison adopted Fionula Flannigan as hers. Having a cool alias is a MUST. So I ask you, dear viewers, to post your pseudonym here on a comment. And with that, I bid you adieu.

My oldest brother, Michael, who lives in Sacramento is expecting a baby. I think I might have told a lot of you that this one was going to be a boy. This information was based on a sonogram in early July that said there was a 95% chance that it would be a boy. Well, turns out that our little Seabiscuit underdog is actually my third niece. How fun is that? I didn't really have my heart set on it being a boy or a girl, so it just cracks me up that the initial guess was wrong.

Speaking of crack, former Dallas Cowboys goalie and outfielder, Michael Irvin, was working out at my gym today. We happen to be there simultaneously on occasion. He works out while two guys stand beside him screaming encouragement. It's pretty ridiculous. They yell things like, "THROW IT UP! THROW IT UP!" and it makes me want to throw it up.

He asked me for my autograph, but I didn't have a pen.

I got my much desired referral to the sleep clinic, but now I have to go to a consultation with the sleep clinic doctors. That is tomorrow morning. I had to fill out a 13 page questionnaire regarding my sleep habits and symptoms. 2 of those pages were supposed to be filled out by someone who has regularly observed you sleeping. It's been a long, long time since I've had someone who regularly observed me sleeping, so I had to call 27. I actually learned a lot about my little problem when I asked him to 'check all that apply' given a list of symptoms. He said that I have severe problems with:
light snoring, loud snoring, choking, pause in breathing, gasping for air, twitching or kicking of legs, sitting up in bed not awake, getting out of bed not awake, becoming very rigid and/or shaking

That's kind of scary. I really didn't realize it was all that bad. People die from this shit. Wouldn't it be totally funny if I suffocated from sleep apnea the day before I went to the sleep clinic. That would make a great blog. If that happens, somebody take up the reigns.

How come we spell it c-o-n-v-e-r-s-a-t-i-o-n but abbreviate it 'convo'? Shouldn't it be 'conver'?

One last note. Owen mentioned this to me first a while ago but it was down, now it's back up. Everyone, and I mean everyone, go to http://earth.google.com and download Google Earth IMMEDIATELY. It is the greatest thing that has ever happened to me. Especially download it on your work computer because it is amusing for hours and hours and hours.

There is a new name for my 'new' hair-do. It's called the breeze. Ryan Short and I came up with it because it appears as though an invisible breeze is constantly blowing from the right. I'm a big fan of the breeze and plan to take it to extremes that rival my fox hawk experimentation. Tonight I went to a barbeque at Eddie's house with a bunch of peeps. It was decided that I have to crimp my hair. This guy said he would buy me a crimper if I would go out with my hair crimped. I'm going to see if I can get that started. How fucking funny would that be? Very.

I do need to make an appt to have my hair cut before AllieD's wedding. I'm thinking of going platinum, but I'm not entirely sure. I may let Xristofer have the final say since I'm always so damn happy with the results, but I am kind of tired of the dark. I can hide the fact that my blonde hair has grown out blonde highlights, but it's a little bit more obvious with the dark. All I know is that I want it to be so much longer than it is and I am convinced that it has stopped growing. Patience has never been my #1 virtue.

Had a pretty good weekend. Met lots of new neighbors that could be pretty fun. Drank lots and lots of beer. Watched Mr. and Mrs. Smith with no sound (review to follow). All in all, not too shabby. Tomorrow I go to the doctor to get my apnea fixed. I cannot wait. Plus, I'll leave work early. Hurrah!

I'd like to thank you all for coming on such short notice. The reason I called you here is to take care of a few items of business.

First, I will be in Austin (Round Rock) on August 12. I am going to AllieD's wedding, remember? Well then my boss comes to tell me that I will be in Cincinnati for two weeks ... the two weeks that would put that wedding smack dab in the middle. I'm not sure, smack dab may be kind of strong, but in the middle nonetheless. I gave them two options, since I am an uppity little shit. I said they could either pay for me to go to Austin that weekend or delay my trip one week. They opted for the latter. Disaster! Nobody wants to attend a wedding reception and then wake up early the next day to drive three hours and get on a plane. So now, I am going to fly out of Austin on the 14th, the details of which aren't entirely worked out. I'll be on the campus of the University of Cincinnati for two weeks and then I will fly back into Austin. Then I'll party one more weekend in that fair city before I return to Dallas. Should be fun.

Secondly, I made an appointment with a doctor for Monday. I am going to go in and repeat back to him the symptoms of sleep apnea that I read on the internet. Please, it won't be the first time I've lied to a doctor to get what I want. Although, usually that is prescription medication. This time, it will be my golden ticket. You see, in order to go to the sleep clinic that I want to go to, you need a referral from a general practitioner. So I'm going to do what it takes to get that referral. Then I get to go to a sleep clinic and spend the night wired up with electrodes and monitors and shit and they will see that I'm waking up 1,000 times a night. I also know from eye witness accounts that I stop breathing for long periods of time and then gasp for air. It's so sleep apnea; it has to be. We're gonna get that taken care of though, don't you worry.

Those were the two action items I wanted to address today. If anybody knows anyone in or anything about Cincinnati please hit me up. Laaaaaaaaaate.

I've had this stupid nagging cough for almost two weeks now. It is really starting to get old. I lay awake at night hacking up a lung and I can't sleep and it's affecting the quality of my life. Before I went to Kaylyn's birthday party, I went to a doctor to make sure I wouldn't get her sick. He said my cough actually wasn't caused by disease but was just a bronchial irritation. I relayed this information to the guys at work and we decided that the sleep rules are actually to blame.

You see, I sleep at 65 degrees every night now. It feels great. But the other thing that cold air does is give up moisture easily. So effectively what I'm really doing is breathing in cold ass, dry ass air all night long and it eventually started to adversely affect me. So I did the only logical thing. I bought a humidifier. It's a really nice humidifier that can control to a set point. So now I'll be livin' at 50% humidity no matter what the temperature is in my apartment. I think it's really important to be totally in control anyway.

But that doesn't arrive until tomorrow. In the meantime I filled a couple of prescriptions that the doctor gave me. One's a pill to like get rid of the inflamation in my chest and the other is ... drum roll please ... cough syrup with codeine! YAY! Sippin' on some sizzurp! This is good news because my last bottle just expired. That should save me some money on alcohol this weekend.

Andy, the old roommate from back in Feb-Apr has been staying with me this week. I took him to my gym a couple of times since he is a personal trainer, fully willing to pay the ridiculous 20 dollar guest fee, but it turns out I get two free guest passes each month. So if anybody ever wants to go with me let me know. I work out 7 days a week now. Did you know that? It's true.

Well, I've just made some delicious chicken breast tacos so I might have to go indulge. Peace out, sluts.

The other night when Allison was spending the night I had a dream that was upsetting enough that I decided to come get on my computer and type out what had happened. In case you don't know, I've diagnosed myself with both insomnia and sleep apnea, so when I finally get tired enough to fall asleep, I never really hit REM, which makes for a plethora of fucked up dreams. This is what I typed out at 4am when I woke up:

i was walking along the street when there was this bright light that i fell into
i woke up and i was a soldier on the battle field
when the commanding officer asked me who i was i said 'david fisher' but since i had no ID i was arrested for lying
i was in jail and i was asking all kinds of questions about where i was and what was going on
thommi was in jail
i finally discerned that i had fallen into a wormhole and woken up 17 years later at the age of 40
i called matt pakes from jail and asked 'are you 40' and he was like 'wow haven't heard from you in forever, yeah im 40'
so now i'm freaked out
start the fragmented nonsequitor portion
edward spencer was a doctor
my apartment was no longer mine
i got onto my old screen name though
i was excited that i had 17 years worth of movies to watch
i looked in the mirror and saw my face at the age of 40
i asked a lot of questions about everything that had gone on
they were upping the quota of stem cells that were produced
drugs had been completely irradicated
i started to think maybe this wasn't so bad, i had skipped some boring ass parts of life
i talked to keith at work, he used the same phrase he used to use 17 years earlier about wanting me to come work again and he hated working with idiots
he got me my job back at TAC
my cell phone still worked
my parents called and left a voicemail
i realized they'd been calling me every year on the day of my disappearance
my mother kept repeating 'i told myself i wouldn't do this, i told myself it wouldn't be this hard'
she was crying
i called our old house number hoping it would be the same
she answered
i couldn't speak, the enormity hit me
there was no passage of time for me but her son had gone missing for 17 years
my mouth went dry
'its david'
she angrily, hopefully, emotionally replied 'what?'
'its david' i said again as my voice cracked in tears
'oh my god'
'mother its me david!' ... i woke up speaking these words aloud and crying

The first few weeks of work, I was really careful about not drinking coffee in the morning in an effort to avoid a caffeine dependency. That is completely out the window now. When I get to work, I am a complete wreck. I'm usually so tired that just keeping my eyes open gives me a headache. I usually try to just zone out for about an hour, and then my gal pal, Yue, and I go get coffee. Immediately after taking my first sip, I feel so much better. By the time I am done with the whole mug, I feel right as rain.

Of course, this high only lasts about an hour, so by the time 10:00 rolls around, I am crashing once again. At first I tried to get up and walk around, maybe endulge myself in a morning cigarette to get the ol' heart rate up (yes, smoking is my cardiovascular workout). But ultimately, I've found it works better to just take a quick cat nap. Napping at work has its own tricky requirements ... namely, not getting caught. That is SO unprofessional. I think I've pretty much mastered it, though, which is why I feel qualified to teach this course.

The first thing I figured out is that you MUST turn off your screen saver. There's no bigger give-away than staring at your idle screen. Most people are just going to be cruising by your cube and not even give you half a glance, so as long as something is open on your screen, you're fine. I like to use an Excel spreadsheet, cause its hard to read and looks busy. The other key is to nonchalantly block the direct line of sight anyone might have of your closed eyes. I like to rest my head on my hand, and cover up the exposed side of my face. I also try to sit like this whenever I am not sleeping, so it won't establish any discernable patterns. I also always, always rest my other hand on the mouse. Not only does this keep up the appearance of work, but if someone happens to walk in, you don't have to move a muscle to go from sleep to clicking around on the screen. Very smooth transition.

The last hurdle I couldn't figure out how to overcome was what happens when you have a visitor. It's easy enough to satisfy the passers-by who could give a shit less what I was doing to begin with. But a few times, my friends would walk into my cube and scare the shit out of me. And it is so obvious that you dozed off when someone says something and you jump. But today, I solved the problem. There you have it, folks. A picture is worth all thousand of those lousy words I just purged onto the screen. HEADPHONES! Headphones were the missing key. I put on headphones, but do not listen to music. But everyone thinks I am. Most of the time I will hear them walk in and there is no problem. However, if I've really gone into REM, it is completely justifiable that I didn't hear them come in, because I'm obviously blasting my ears with with something more palatable than the golden oldies coming in over the speakers. Then they generally bang on something, say my name really loud, or touch me on the shoulder ... all three of which would cause any music lover to jump (as if they were sleeping). It's brilliant!

Now all I have to do is make sure my coworkers don't read this site.