When are these Tech grads going to learn? Say it with me people: When you go to a strip club always, always, always, always use cash. HT - Meghan

My vitals

I have been thinking about my health a lot lately.

With a couple of friends fighting their way out of serious long-term illnesses, I am reminded that I am as mortal as they come. I have recently experienced some extremely minor health nuisances that could have been signs of a greater problem had they become chronic (They have, for the record, subsided as expected). In addition, I will be forced to change health insurance as of my birthday due to my move to Georgia.

The pessimist in me worries about the worst imaginable product of all of these circumstances. In the back of my mind, I worry that I may have contracted Mad Cow Disease, and that the new policy won’t cover the necessary treatment because it would be a pre-existing condition. I then worry that the illness will present as horribly as possible, and that my friends will be forced to hold car washes to help defray my medical costs. Unfortunately, these car washes will be shut down due to the drought. As a result, an unattractive nurse will walk into the Mad Cow Ward of the local hospital, lift me into her excessively flabby arms, and carry me out of the hospital. Once outside, she will deposit me into a ditch from which my friends will walk with their heads down and shaking, wishing there was something else they could have done.

I know.

Seriously, though. The combined traits of worrier and dreamer that I possess have the capacity to make my worst medical fears seem very real, especially when my health coverage is in flux. I can worry myself into an amazing frenzy over a cough or a canker sore, and every little itch, bump, creak, tingle, or asymmetrical fart will further convince me that something is wrong… bad wrong. At some point, reason returns, and I become calm once again.

This has happened before, but this time is different. It is different in that I now value my life in ways that I have not valued it before. I am rather sure that this is because I am sharing much of it with someone else. It is no secret that I endured a bit of self-destructive behavior in my twenties, and that remnants of that behavior splashed into my early thirties. Though I have often made the statement that “the leading cause of death is life,” there are decisions that I made back then that I would change if I could. Every time I get a chest cold, I regret every drag from “back when” because I know I inhaled as a result of a lower valuation of my life than I now acknowledge.

Fortunately I do have my health (*knocks on wood*), and I am lucky (really?) enough to have realized how much I love being alive under circumstances which allow me to do something about it.

I guess I tell you all of this to get to a point. I clearly haven’t been updating you on every piece of minutiae in my life lately. That is largely because I have been spending a lot of time enjoying it and not very much time thinking about it. Things are wonderful. I am very happy. And I am awake and doing my best to appreciate every moment.

Minesweeper the movie

HT - Macenstein

Blandard What's Up Entry

I am, once again, on the literal and proverbial couch, watching the 1983 Sugar Bowl (the flea flicker to Herschel just happened) and telling you what little I have in my head that is appropriate for universal consumption.

From my relative absence of late, you may have reasoned that I have become no less busy since I wrote recently about the strangeness of working in the band room once again. That "two weeks only" is now in danger of becoming a month. The nostalgic fuzziness of returning to a place that holds the memories of nearly half of my life has worn mostly off.

I am now working just enough hours to make sure that operations continue, and working little enough that it is in the personal best interest of those in charge to hire someone permanent. In the meantime, the school is basically paying the money that my insurance company wouldn't pay for my computer.

Serendiptous as the temporary gig is, I am ready (as Dwight once said) not to be a shepherd anymore. More pressing matters await.

Boom...

Ok... Most of the world has been acquainted with this video for some time. But I am afraid that many, if not most, of my friends have not seen it in its entirety. This completely reminds me of numerous (but slightly less awkward) times when I have been forced to be the speaker when I was totally unprepared to do so. I feel horrible for this guy. But I love the very end when his co-anchor thanks him, and he manages a "hhyeah."

Enjoy.


SFW

Health care reform... sign me up

Things that make me happy

In no particular order...

Hoodies (on me)
Butter (on my gir... nevermind)
Candlelight
Learning new stuff
College football
Having a coach who doesn't put up with shit
Typing with a beer in one hnad
Fall weather
Neck rubs
Scalp rubs
My girlfriend
Sandals
My girlfriend's accusations of "mushy blogging"
Finishing a song, and doing it well
Salty mashed potatoes
Calm
Using the phrase "the hell" in the middle of any sentence
Learning that Teflon was once used on missile noses
Brown paper packages tied up with string
Morning
Grandparents
Made-up fight song lyrics
Checks written to me
Ceiling fans

I have been thinking lately that being cool may not be all that it is cracked up to be, and that maybe being giddy and simply tickled to be alive, well, and happy is. Perhaps I will try the latter for a while.

I seriously want to know...

Why do farts smell worse at a school or university than they do at home? Seriously?

I have added a link to "Troy Kicks Cancer" so you too can keep up with the progress of an old friend.

Well, hell...

In the course of my second beer this afternoon, I have been trying to compare my disappointment from today's game to a similar one of the past. I have tried West Virginia 05-06. I've tried Tennessee last year, Auburn '97 and Tech 2000. But I just can't make the comparison. I can't come up with a good reason why this happened.

I really hope there is some growing up going on out there today. I am getting tired of hoping that is true.

Time for another beer.

The inmates and the asylum

It really is a strange night on Creek Stone Drive.

I am alone, which is certainly not the norm of late. Meghan is enjoying a date night with the girls, which theoretically includes none of the activities that some of you might hope would take place (I think it's a little "Grey's Anatomy," a little dinner, and a lot of girl talk). One supposes that a little independence and individuality are good things, and I suppose I agree. But I prefer here when she is in it.

I am watching the #8 Kentucky Wildcats play at the #11 South Carolina Gamecocks, and it's a good game. What has happened to football?



I am tired from work. Yeah, work... at UGA... sound familiar? You may have heard that Trina finally turned out the lights in the band room. Unfortunately, they didn't have anyone to hold down the fort as Trina left for greener pastures and more serene workdays. So I agreed to come in for two weeks (and two weeks ONLY) to help smooth the transition to the new Trina. Few experiences have ever been as surreal as the first morning on the bypass driving to campus dressed much like I used to be every (late) morning (or early afternoon.... or late afternoon). And within the confines of 116, life is new and strange. I'm not saying it's good or bad, better or worse. I'm just saying life is strange in yet another bizarro version of something I once knew far too well.

-------------------------------------------------------

P.S. - Hang in there, Troy.

Stu and M at the Grill Satidy morning.