Opopanox, Home of the Arrogant Worm

Pain Management. Not a new thing, considering Ye Olde Menstryle Cycle and the twice fail of throwing your back. However, the back, as I’ve unfortunately found, is now a recurring problem. It doesn’t just ‘twinge’ anymore, as it used to do, now it also sort’ve ..assaults you at specific tasks.

Take Ma’s truck, for instance. Bit of a high climb to get in the thing, there’s no step. A good two, two and a half feet off the ground if there’s an inch I wanna say. Now, I can get my foot up there no problem, but as it’s turning out, I can get in the car exactly – once – with little to no pain. Because apparently, you use your lower back a hell of a lot actually stepping such a distance. Sliding out of the truck – not a problem. We had to find a curb that she could pull up to after the first store so I could get in, though, and at the second store I ended up squeezing in by my knees on the floor as curbs didn’t seem to be an option at that point. Not a wide interior for a truck, by the way.

Knees, people. That was some dexterious shit right there, and m’back died in the damn middle of it, my ass and ankles swaying in the breeze of the cvs parking lot (they didn’t have Ma’s hand brace or my adhesive nose pieces for m’glasses, either) while I clutched at the seat in a desperate effort not to slide backwards onto the pavement (I was more out than in, at that point) and, with my luck, break my tailbone.

Now, I am Very Good at calculating and orchestrating movement to give the least amount of pain versus the most beneficial movement in a given situation. With a shitty reproductive system, bad eyesight and general expected injury I have to be. The fact that I’ve memorized first aid for an extremely wide variety of possible injuries (and had to use quite a few of them, not counting the time an ex got to my hand before I could. Hard to fix yourself and fend someone away when one hand is holding a bit of the other together) and keep my cpr card up to date should, I hope, give you some bit of a clue that Unexpected Pain is not exactly Unexpected. I process and adjust situations rather quickly. I was not, however, quite as prepared as I’d hoped. There was a veritable three part Orchestra of Spasms wracking my lower back in the middle of a Wish & Prayer Seating Arrangement Expedition that deigned to make my acquaintance at about half way into the vehicle.

Visions of landing on my ass kept flitting through my mind, along with a few of my own rather desperate chuckles when I informed mother that my lower back was throwing a coup and also, my traitorous left shoe was in imminent danger of falling off. Occasionally she’s kind – she volunteered to get the shoe should it have attempted a break for freedom. Should it have fallen I was planning on leaving it there, as at that point it wasn’t worth the effort. You have a lot of time to think during pain, since your body doesn’t let your mind wander far.

What? Leave my sneaker behind? Fuck It, I Own Slippers. I’ll Just Wear Those While Searching For A New Pair of Shoes on the Next Shopping Trip, Perhaps No One Will Notice. Such thoughts like that are common place, ‘least with me.

Anyway, Ma had also held out her hand, and I did consider it but I probably would’ve fractured, if not broke, several of her fingers using her hand and arm in a futile attempt to haul in my 150+ pound torso & limb combo, so no Sir, didn’t take the hand. Didn’t want to hear the possible bitching for that very reason, either.

I also entertained the idea of walking home rather than getting a ride at this point – walking would’ve been a lot less painful for my back.

(I did not, in fact, land on my ass, managed to make it from the floor to the seat by moving sideways after I finally managed to squeeze myself onto the seat floor. Feets of dexterity, let me tell you. Although, trouble facing forward as my back didn’t want to help turn my ass after I actually got on the seat. So tempted to just lay there)

Getting out once we were home and carrying floor fans from the store on my shoulders, though? No problem! Go fucking figure.

Long story short I’m hoping this isn’t a permanent deal as generally my back pain is regulated to a specific time every couple of months, not this …spasming bullshit. There’s actually different types of back pain, which, I know, should’ve occurred to me earlier – but, eh, who knows, might’ve forgotten. I’m pretty damn sure quite a bit of it’s my bed, or rather, lack thereof. Been using doubled up futon mattresses and a fold-a-foam-chair spread lengthwise for the past few months. Currently looking for a nice box spring twin mattress, cheap, hoping that takes care of it.

Funny thing I found last Friday, I’ll see if I can get a picture. Anyway, few towns over with my mother, we were looking for a parking spot. As she was cruising by I kept an eye out the window, and next to the buildings there are, of course, reserved parking signs for various individuals.

One of ‘em said it was, and I quote, ‘Reserved for Big Brother’. Pretty sure it was the cop shop, since a marked cruiser was parked cozily in one of the spaces next to it.

Snagged two scrumptuous books from Salvo. Dad came to pick me up, which I wasn’t expecting but was greatly appreciated, as my shoes had given me three (four, I’d missed one) blisters by the time I’d walked there. He saw which isle I was sandwiched in and seemed a mite exasperated. Which reminds me, s’past time to cull my books again. Damned depressing, it is.

Should preface this by saying I reside under a rock. So, been looking up some Comedy Central comedians since I realized I haven’t heard new stuff in a few years, and found Josh Blue. Absolutely hilarious, he’s getting burned to a cd the second he shows in my music program.

Link to video Here
(the Utube embedding has been disabled. Bah.)

Also remembered to redownload Gabriel Iglesias, also awesome.

Fuckfuckfuck, I had a whole long post on the intricacies of changing rooms versus bathrooms & why I think they’re different in hostility and it fucking ERASED ITSELF

Ack, I’ve got to figure out how to work that GIMP program. I wanna make mirror / shadow writing, saw it on someone’s blog header earlier, looks neat. Specially when it looks a bit uneven, like gravel. Mmmm, think the blog might need to be spruced up a bit.

Three River’s Fog has a question about language.

Link to post located Here

“What term should we be using to indicate lack of disability?”

Her post, titled “Open floor: What is the opposite of “disabled”?” brings up the point of inclusion, as TAB (the best acronym I’ve seen so far, ‘Temporarily Able Bodied’, leaves out mental illness and other non-physical disabilities, which the author pointed out, and although I consider the mind a part of the body it doesn’t quite fit since mental illness (‘cetera & so forth) has been considered, at least largely in Western culture to be a moral, personal failing subject to willpower).

I like TAB, since you can add, remove, and add it to a single individual (say, me. Or hey! Even you. ) for particular things as a situation warrants. But it does leave a gaping hole since a body (whether yours or theirs) is far from the only thing to give grief. Which I’ve a post on in my head, but it’s a bit painful and serious, been …putting it off. Really needs to be done, though, much like cleaning this room. Stagnant.

Anyway, Three River’s Fog requests ideas for alternate vocabulary! She encourages t’link the post around, so please do. Not sure of suggestions myself, need to Ponder.

- Edited to add two short explinations.

Huh. Can’t find ‘After the Goldrush’ by Neil Young, with the beautiful piano. Instead, there’s a multitude of covers. And so, Gary Jules singin’ ‘After the Goldrush’ with a bit o’guitar.

And here’s ‘Hand Me Down World’ by Guess Who, just dredged it up t’day.

Omigawd

Decided to dye my hair, since I’ll not chance cutting it until after I acquire a job. I like to think of it as an incentive and insurance combination. Now, generally when I dye m’hair, I mix the stuff, remove the glasses, put it in my hair, and then put the glasses back on, since my glasses are generally metal and dye don’t do shit to it. So, we get until I go to put ‘em on, and I think ‘wait, wide plastic earpieces!’ (which, no, weren’t a part of my old glasses-routine. So, was wearing the outdoor ones, just picked ‘em up today, they fit pretty damn well) and so, I have an Internal Debate.

One one hand, I’d like to be able to see – something – for the next half hour fourty minutes. On the other hand, there was the slim chance that dye would actually get on the damn things. And while I was debating, I took the liberty of studying ‘em. I mean, why not? They were already in front of me at this point.

I’m horribly glad I looked, because I refuse to chance anything that claims its from Saks Fifth Avenue. Still little puddles of panic in my system at the thought. God, may they not break for many many years, I hate wasting money. O, crap, how’m I gonna afford a new pair when they do end up breaking? Generally wear my glasses till they fall apart >.< And they fit so – well -, too, they’ve got, like, hinges connecting the arms on the inside. Glad they were covered, thought there might’ve been a fee I was missing when we picked ‘em up.

I spoke too soon. I wandered over to Bitch phd’s site. I admit, my reading has been sketchy the past long while, and the comments there were nonexistent – couldn’t access ‘em before today. Shame I found a way to fix that particular problem.

She’s two posts into digging herself one hell of a crater, let me say, and at this point I’d volunteer to help shovel all that excess dirt back on top just to get her to Shut Up. It’s…I know I’m bad at apologies, but this is ridiculous.

Link to 1st post Here

Link to 2nd post Here

Bitch phd postes an email she got from her boyfriend. Was supposed to contain ‘irony’. Now, I’ve a rather dry wit and can indeed find irony in damn near everything.

Definition of irony from Answers.com –

irony n. , pl. -nies . The use of words to express something different from and often opposite to their literal meaning.

It had no irony because the insults were the minority groups and the language used to describe ‘em. There’s nothing opposite in that and it certainly isn’t satire. People are surprised and hurt – the sheer amount of comments, the contents of ‘em and the ‘excuse me, you’re being an ass’ show that much. I don’t understand why she isn’t giving a damn.

So, as I said, read most of the comments in both posts, though the righteous indignation and then defense at her boyfriend’s letter (which I can sort of understand some kind of defense, since he’s a loved one, but s’gone a bit too far) & her comments on the Republican party & ‘Teabagging’, the cracks at clinging to PC Armor (yes, because everyone Cares Deeply about The Underdog, dontcha know. Care so much I’ve got scars, so I do), transphobia, sexism (y’ever notice that relying on sexism, among other things, for insults is intillectualy lazy? And say! Also rude as hell?), ablism (I mean, come on, even – I – managed to apologize for using lame months ago after t’was said, & my brain loves scrambling backwards when shits’ pointed out.), transphobia and …..

- peers at the comments -

What is this? Slipshod arguments against polyamory by a commenter derailing the rest of the blog posts’ Fail. Ugh. Poly isn’t the reason she’s being a reactionary tool, that should never have been brought up.

So. Yes. Bullshit. Her comment b’low’s a good example of the general failure.

And now I am going to go teach writing to a bunch of middle schoolers.
Today’s lesson will be about how transgendered people are not funny.

(Sorry.)
bitchphd | Homepage | 04.16.09 – 12:38 pm

…..Yeah, you’re not the only one who’s sorry.

Now, Monty Python.

- Oh. And about claiming lame as a metaphor?

ie; “Oh, please. There is such a thing as a dead metaphor.”

Why Yes, there is such a thing as a dead metaphor. And when that happens, such metaphores get retired, & no one uses them, and thus they fall out of favor and common knowledge. ‘Lame’ is not a metaphor, and certainly not a dead
one. When you can’t claim ignorance, apparently it’s A’Okay! to claim you’ve shitty writing practices as a teacher. Such as using ‘dead metaphors’ in writing. Good to know.

-Edited to add: I know I missed shit as I skimmed a goodly chunk, m’eyes can’t take nearly that many comments and well, it does get repetative. missed anything, do let me know.