StupidHurts

I found this today and thought it was really awesome. So I thought I would share.

http://sendmesomething.org/

Basically, if you send them a self address envelope, they will send you something back.

It is nice to get something in the mail these days with the ease of the internet.

But I did have a sitter.

Just got out of the hospital yesterday. I went in for several seizures a few days ago.

But I stayed for 4-6 days longer than needed because I was given the wrong medicine. I should never ever be given Dilantin. I am aware of this because last time it was given to me, I ended up tied to the bed after trying to escape the hospital .

Dilantin is the basic treatment for seizures, but I am really allergic to it. I told that to the doctor when I was in the e.r. It makes me aggressive and psychotic and screws up my memory. Plus I end up not knowing why.  They didn’t believe me since I recently had a seizure and gave it to me anyway. So I have had my memory screwed up for the past few days, and have been delusion plus just as many. Plus now they want me to get a new medic alert bracelet .

While riding home from Reno on Sunday, my family stopped at some side of the road casino to gamble for a few hours.

I spent the time catching up on my sleep and reading the newspaper.

I also took this pics from a high point. click for the big version

pano from outside of reno

here is a link to the full size pic

http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3610/3634875208_eaff31629a_b.jpg

You would think taking an epileptic to Reno, Nv. that joke would pretty much write itself. But since it didn’t, here we go.

The ride to Reno was pretty quiet. When we first got there I promptly lost my family to the various slot machines and poker tables.  There has been nothing but, flashing lights and signs since then. Since I was alone, I searched the pawn shops on the strip for camera gear, and caught up with my roommate from Az on the phone who passed through Reno on a fairly regular basis.

My dad isn’t very big on gambling, I find out he enjoys hanging out in his room with a pair of binoculars and eyeballing the strip and the really really shady hotel across the street that looks like clean sheets cost extra. Of course I really can’t talk much, there is a wedding chapel in the basement of the hotel I am staying in, classy place indeed.

So after surfing the strip I found the local bike co-op. The Reno Bike program. I liked those people so I may put a few hours of work in on Saturday to earn myself some parts during the day. Saturday night I plan on spending at the 7bar watching a Breakdance/ b-boy dance off. I met a really nice break dancing girl in a coffee shop who invited me. Free internet is a rare commodity around here, so I find myself looking for the old standards, coffee shops, libraries, apartment complexes.

So Friday evening I attended a pool party at a hotel, and I crashed a random table full of people. They had a spare chair, I needed somewhere to sit. It was really close to the stage, they could hear me mocking them on the stage. Turns out the guys I was sitting with were building a race track out back for a special event, and two were trained photographers but they were not published, Because of were we were sitting, the bud girls made friends with us and ended up hanging out with us even after we left the pool and crashed a bar.

At one point in the night I woke up in a hospital, again, I know.  From what the nurses and security told me as I was filling out the paper work. I talked so much trash at the pool party,I was talked into the swimwear contest because no other male entered, and the top male entry got $250 dollars. It would appear I do have a price. Since I passed out during a swimwear contest, I was wearing my shorts and shoes, and that was it. I was lucky to have my phone and wallet on my person, but I was separated from my camera and computer in a strange town. Needless to say I chose not to get the full work up this time, and ended up running back in the dark in a pair of shorts from the hospital to the motel/casino. Luckily it was only a few blocks. While talking to the security trying to get my bag back, it had been labeled, “John Doe, one bag with one black strap.” He handled it liked it happened all the time.
Reno has a very small local population and I learned pretty quickly that pretty much every one knows each other. So I hung out with two local strippers who told me a lot about of the culture. Living in Reno is a really interesting place to say the least. Basically everything considered illegal or  morally wrong back home, is ok, or tolerated here in Reno. I have seen more illegal acts than I am used to. For a Friday night at least, after a handful of prostitutes, more underage drinking than a little, and a couple  pawning their wedding rings to go back to the casino. I have to say it has been a full night.This was before midnight

While on a food run where I crashed another random table of people, a girl coming home from a birthday party. I came across a guy standing in the rain in a dirty tux using a flute to play “Rain drops keep falling on my head.” That was enough for me to tip him.

Lastly of course when I had my camera apart to dry out. and I am looking out the window, a naked person runs across the parking lot.

If you look around, you may notice the site has been rebuilt. This is what I have been working on, it doesn’t seem like much, but it took a bit of effort. There may be some further changes in the future, but I think we are making good progress.

You ever wake up hoping for your own sake you don’t look as bad as you feel. I was standing in front of my bed when I had a grand mal seizure, and then fell asleep for 4-5  hours. The good thing is I fell into the bed. Bad part was I still had my contacts in. So I woke up with one contact in. Better than none, but still less than I went to sleep with. I woke up feeling pretty rough, but a percoset and half a pint of ice cream later does go a long way. The said part is, Fear and loathing in Las Vegas goes a long way with percoset, and when I want to sit down and watch it. It isn’t on.

Could be much worse I suppose.

Watching my grandmother iron clothes, is like watching an artist work clay into a statue. Working the iron with hand, the starch with the other. The careful back and forth motions as she works her way slowly and quietly across the skirt. Sweep and spray and sweep. I avoid clothes that need being ironed, I don’t think I have seen my own ironing board in several years. It was an art i never picked up, but at that moment I felt like I was in the presence of a master.

I currently find myself living in the Napa valley region near the bay area of California. I left Paso Robles on friday, somewhere north of San fran on a train I think I passed out. Then woke up sometime after dark with a strangely familiar feeling, I was in an ambulance….again. Surprisingly enough I only had one contact lens in, I am still a bit curious about what happened. That takes some effort to knock out one contact. Of course I was let go healthy as a horse, with a new bill. Oh, and the fact I pretty much can’t see.

Sarah is in New mexico now, and I am in a house full of my family, but I still feel a bit lonely.  Just breathe in and breathe out. I have great phone and no internet, she has no phone and great internet.

My family is interesting. You learn a lot more by just listening to them. So when any of them start to rant, I have learned to just listen, it just works better that way. My Grandmother is losing her sister to dementia, and she chooses to deal with my father one a daily basis, I will get to that in a second. She keeps herself really busy to keep her mind off of things. Since I have been here, there have two batches of cookies, and a cake for my birthday, along with laundry and the stove gets broken down every so often to wash it the space of 3 days. She doesn’t allow me to wash dishes or my own clothes. She cooks breakfast and dinner every morning. You also have to have been showered and fully dressed before morning. I don’t waste my time trying to argue with her, I tried several times. The effort is not worth it.

About the same time I fell to illness a few years ago, my dad was coming out of a six month long coma, he was hit on his motorcycle head on by a car. When ever I remind myself it could be worse. He has been clinically dead more times than me and has much more nerve damage than me, he has chronic pain, I just can’t feel a few places. His place at the dinner table is a wheel chair because he lacks the coordination or the upper body strength to move a chair in and out. This is the same guy who a few years ago put the fear of god in me, and for the longest time was just a scary individual. Even though he isn’t stuck in the wheelchair. It is still a bit painful to see him sit in that wheel chair and eat. I hate being wheeled out of hospitals, I really don’t like wheel chairs. His dragging shuffling gait has gotten a lot better, he works on it and walks around the mall. Of course there are hot cookies made by Grandma, a reason to keep on leaving right there.

I have not been posting because I have been busy with the back end of Stupidhurts. Trying to get the site working and looking better. Plus my grandmother keeps me busy with small things around here. Changing this, fixing that. It is a big part of the reason I am out here and everything. She has taken it upon herself to make sure I lose no weight while I I am out here. No matter how good something is, it can always be better. I have to re-teach myself this stuff every time I do it.

I am sure have I made mention of my appreciation for donuts from strange locations in the past. My first day in Paso Robles I noticed one of several small donut places. I knew already that if I went there around lunch I wouldn’t be getting much else done for the day, but sometimes for the sake of enjoyment you have to take risks in your life.

Eventually I made to the donut shop right after mid-day rush. Lunch that day consisted of a hot ham and swiss wrapped in a fresh baked croissant, a hand full of donut holes, and a soda, for 3.95.

As I sat there and ate, I felt myself becoming less aware of my surrounds. As I started thinking it was about time for the nap, I decided making it back home first was a good idea.

I sit down and get ready to write, take a deep breathe, and it doesn’t hurt to breathe. That’s kinda new, it has hurt for so long in the same spots long, I have sorta gotten used to it. This is the longest I have gone with out being on a bicycle for a very long time. Hopefully this will give the usual stuff a chance to heal up. Or at least I can hurt different parts for a change.

So anyway, I was walking by myself to lunch and taking the chance to people watch While watching this woman riding by on a Harley softail classic. She caught my eye was the fact she signaled her left turn like a bicyclist normally does, then pulled a really nice u-turn in traffic. Yeah I know they are illegal, but it is rare you see a woman riding a larger motorcycle by herself in traffic. Also it is more rare you see anyone with really high bars pull a u-turn on a cruiser. It takes a fair amount of upper body strength, and I will have to admit I normally prefer to avoid that sort of turn. Yes they look cool, but are hard easy to lose control of, if you hit an oil patch or water in the road.

And now for what makes this a Stupid Hurts post. I was sitting over dinner with a friend, and in response to something I said. She tells a story about her vaginal lacerations. Now retelling it is very difficult, because she told it with some awesome hand motions.

So what she described as riding her boyfriend backwards while doing a sorta reverse yoga bridge and leaning back, she felt a funny pop then a rip, but she kept going. She was enjoying herself. Eventually it did get to the point where she started smelling blood. She is a nurse so she knows the smell. So she got up and ran into the bathroom and runs her hands down the wall and the mirror looking for a light switch. Apparently she wasn’t at her own home. Soon he comes in and quickly pops the light on. She explains it to me as a scene from “Carrie” blood everywhere, running down the walls, the mirror, you get the point. They actually stand in the bathroom and argue if she should go the hospital for a moment, since he was an emt, and she was a nurse each figured the other would know for sure. Well after she wouldn’t stop bleeding they both decided that was good enough reason to go to the hospital. So she went to the e.r. I am sure it wasn’t the worse that doctor had heard that day, but it was also a doctor she knew. So it was very very embarrasing,  and if the fact she tore herself while having rough sex wasn’t bad enough, the doctor was training a pre-med student. so it had to to make things worse. With someone else in the room standing around with a pencil and pad taking notes, while a doctor fumbled around her girl parts