Friction and Harmony

Okay, I got this from Mrs. Who, who along with Pam, stole it from Harvey.  To prove / disprove I have a life, I thought I’d jump in and post my own results:

I don’t think I need to restate the stinkin’ rules.  Rules are for weenies, anyhow.  I just wanted to see if I have seen anywhere near the number of movies Mrs. Who and others have.

Continue if you wish – below the fold…

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Who says the anorexic look is in?

On my local Harley shop website, they have pictures of the various sponsored events.  This one was from the 2007 Toys for Tots Ride:

I think it was the Hooters Girls who were supposed to have made an appearance, but it looks like they must have double-booked…  The Muffinz Girls showed up instead.   Evidently Hooters has lowered their hiring standards.

I didn’t think that was possible.

I can’t think of a damn thing to write.  So I’ll share my obsession with you…

Harley Davidson just dropped a new bike on the market.

I’m in love.

This started out as a follow-up comment to my previous post here. Since I didn’t want to hijack my own blog comments, as I’m so prone to doing – I decided to follow-up here, instead.

So…

TO EVERYONE: Thanks! Your kind words and prayers are so very appreciated. Y’all are a great bunch of folks to offer such encouragement and support…

And no – the television has not been replaced… exactly. There is a smaller TV with NO aerial reception that filled that void as the “gaming” screen. As for satellite, cable, etc… We haven’t done any of that since we moved in 2002. From the start of our marriage, I insisted on ***NO*** television in the Master Bedroom. That is our “escape zone,” where we can talk, hide from the kids, and just be with one-another.

The television that suffered its violent demise was the *former* gaming TV, and it was sick anyway. Besides being a point of bitter contention in the household, it was positioned right behind where I sit at my desk. (They’ve since been moved into another more remote location in the house.) So if the aggravation of kids whining “I’ll do it in a minute, I need to saaave…[and under their breath] right after I finish these next three levels…” wasn’t enough, the CLACKITTY-CLACKITTY-CLACKITTY of the damned controllers would set my tension level soaring.

But then it got worse… Because the television had so many different gaming systems to contend with, there was constant connecting-disconnecting of wires at the back of the set, which led to a deterioration of the signal quality – which would sometimes fritz-out in a sudden blaring of loud static and “snow” on the screen. (Yeah, I know they make switch boxes. They had already killed one of those, too.) The kids developed a solution for the static problem though. They discovered that instead of quickly pausing the game, reaching around and quietly jiggling the wire, they could just rap on the side of the TV with a stout blow and it would immediately jump back into sync. After being scolded several times, “DON’T POUND ON THE TV!” (I know… ironic, isn’t it?) they quickly discovered that they didn’t have to hit the TV. Hitting the television stand instead would accomplish the same thing. But what if they were seated on the sofa or chair just out of reach? What then? Would they actually get up to do something about it? Hell no. They’re ingenious teenagers for chrissakes!

HOW ABOUT STOMPING OR JUMPING ON THE FLOOR HARD ENOUGH TO SHAKE THE WHOLE DAMN HOUSE? Yeah, that worked just a well, and it was quick – especially if they were already on their feet and didn’t want to take their hands off the farookin’ Guitar Hero controller…

Now… I’m prone to panic attacks. I also commonly suffer “inappropriate adrenalin response” to situations where I’m startled or surprised; I get a super-adrenaline “flush” that makes me immediately sweat and then feel nauseous. That’s usually followed by me either “blowing it off” physically  (usually the better solution)  or the onset of a full-blown panic attack. Mrs. Who once had a bad dream in which she let out a yelp in her sleep – which woke me up immediately in a state of reaction. When I realized there was nothing to do – the house wasn’t burning (thank God) and there was nobody burgling our house that I could beat to a pulp – I had nowhere to channel the adrenaline that flooded my system. I ended up screaming/crying into a pillow next to a very worried and pitiful Mrs. Who.

That shit sucks. There’s no rational release or take-down from it. It’s a tsunami of inappropriate psycho-physiological reaction that you either have to surf or let engulf you as it passes.

So to be engrossed in reading or working through something on my computer screen only to be ripped from my skull by…

clackitty-clackitty-BSSSSSSSSHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ – B O O M!

…was enough to send me over the top and around the bend at once – several times in an evening.

Yeah, I hated that damn TV. It was time for it to die – and on my terms.

Heh.

Well, my blog is no longer R.I.P.

I recovered more than I thought I could, but there’s still a lot of cleanup to do around this place. My sidebars are seriously screwed up, and I’m thinking I may have to lose the look. Maybe a fresh coat of e-Paint and some new drapes. Maybe I’ll ditch WordPress altogether for a new CMS. I dunno. Something different.

I lost a post or two – not many, I’m afraid – but I’ll get over it. I moved in here at HostMonster.com back in November and had a helluva time trying to get everything straightened out. For the record, I love HostMonster. But I hate Fantastico. (More on that later.)

THEN… The “Holidays” hit. Like an effin ton of manure, they hit. I felt buried alive. And since I suck at VERBALIZING what I feel, I DEMONSTRATED it instead.

I. Freaked. Out.

The loss of my blog was the least of it all… I was sure it was gone for good, but through pieces and parts, I managed to find most of it so long after my e-Tantrum®.

To my beautiful, loving and blessedly patient wife, and to those of you who witnessed my unraveling on Mrs. Who’s blog, I sincerely apologize. I really wasn’t myself. I don’t know that I can say I’m 100%, since I really f#cK3d up big… I’m still trying to recover.

For anyone who has been reading my blog and Mrs. Who’s, it should come as no surprise that I am dealing with Post Traumatic Stress, Depression, and for the triple-play… OCD. Throw-in some pretty raw worries about MamaBear’s prognosis (she’s doing well, actually… Thank you, Lord!) during a trip to MD Anderson that I had to miss because of my new job… Oh, and the New JOB – fitting in, finding my niche, worrying about the “stress days” that I had already needed to take, etc. Then of course, a house full of obnoxious teenagers, an EX (hers, not mine) who can’t seem to get his ass off his shoulders and throw-in a little “Holiday Cheer” (no, not in the alcohol or pharmacological sense. Think steeping in sarcasm, “Merry Fuck You Too” pushing crowds and rotten drivers, short tempers and pissheads with no manners running all over ’cause you HAVE to finish shopping with money you don’t have so you *think* you can make everyone happy for, like, five whole SECONDS… Yeah, I think you get it), and before you know it, the family is huddled in the Family Troop Mover looking for a place to hide from my raging freakout.

Yeah, the face on the doc in the emergency room was priceless when I told him how good it felt to smash that effin TV with an axe. It did. It really, really did. I hated that TV.

(Tell me you never even wondered what it would be like… Liar.)

Fortunately, I was the only witness to that television set’s tragic demise. The family had already given me my much-needed space – but they did walk-in on the techno-gory aftermath. It was scary for them AND me. I still feel ashamed of myself and my behavior, even though I know I wasn’t exactly behind the wheel, so to speak.

So… I don’t know what direction I’ll take my blog from here. Right now, there’s still more Friction than Harmony, but it’s getting better. There are a lot of things I never felt I could talk about on my blog. Like, for instance, depression.

Screw that!

In spite of everything… everything that we’ve had fall on our shoulders these past years… All the tragedy, conniving asshats and EX-family, health issues, financial woes, teeth fractured in my sleep due to stress, and even more missed days from work for subsequent dental repair… I’m still here!

Hey, Lemon Stand… Can I borrow a cup of sugar? I got a whole lot of lemons that I’ve let stack up on me. It’s time to do some squeezin’!

I’m back from the dead…

Fantastico sucks rocks.

Thatisall.