I hate waking up with a headache. On my day off, no less.

I've had something kicking around my mind about Christians lately. Of course, making fun of them is terribly easy. Some of them beg for it just for the opportunity to act all self-righteous and victimized.

While I've never considered myself Christian, I was born into a Methodist family and have read some of the text for curiosity's sake.

Anywho, the fact of the matter is most self-proclaimed Christians have very little grasp of the actual religion. Love thy neighbor, my achin' ass.

Seems like you're cheating if you pick apart the text to fit your needs and cast the rest of it into the gutter.

Here are some interesting thoughts to make you smirk:

Did you know that a woman is "unclean" for 7 days after giving birth to a boy or for two weeks after giving birth to a girl? She's supposed to wait 33 days (or 66 for a girl) before touching a holy object or entering a holy place as part of the purification process. There's more to this (like sacrificing a lamb)... but you get the idea.

Any kind of discharge from the body is unclean--Semen, pus, and definitely menstrual blood. For some reason, any blood coming out of a woman (be it menses or afterbirth) always requires twice as much time for purification and twice as big an offering (for sacrifice or atonement). If you come into contact with a guy who has just jizzed his pants, you are unlcean. If you sit on the bed of a woman who's on her period, you're unclean. And heaven fucking forbid you jizz inside a woman on her period.

As you may have guessed, this stuff comes straight out of Leviticus--which is exactly why I chose it as an example. Leviticus is one of the books in the Bible that Christians either embrace or dismiss on a whim. "Let's constantly refer to that bit about man lying with another man, but I like shellfish and porkbutt, so let's ignore that bit. I don't like sleeping on the couch, so let's ignore the part about periods being unclean. 'Don't wear a garment of cloth made with two different kinds of thread.' Well, uh... my wife got me this jacket. Who wrote this stuff, anyway? Farmers, I'm afraid you're not allowed to sow two different kinds of grain in your field. All you folks getting a tattoo that says RIP Mom? Turns out that's a double sin. 1 for cutting yourself for that reason and 2 because tattoos are a no-no."

A personal favorite of mine, 19, "If a foreigner stays with you in your land, do not do him wrong. Rather, treat the foreigner staying with you like the native-born among you--you are to love him as yourself, for you were foreigners in the land of Egypt." Who wants to bet that more than 3/4 of the people who "hate" immigrants are good ol' boy Christians?

There's also a bit at the very end of 19 which basically says you're to observe all of the regulations therein. No picking, no choosing, no being a ripe asshole and bending the words for your personal benefit or beliefs. All or nothing, really. This is why many Christians refer to this text as a Jewish thing. It's really sort of disgusting when you think about it.

I firmly believe that if Jesus ever did rise again, he'd probably throw up every time he saw a fish bumpersticker on a gas-guzzling SUV. And he'd probably be muttering in Aramaic, between vomits, "Yep, it's about time for that whole Judgment Day thing."

I've only met a handful of true Christians in my life. What I mean by true Christian is someone who embraces the teachings of their Lord, loves their life and life in general, and actually lives by their personal religion. You rarely see that. Most "religious" people are hypocrites.

When I was a child, a little girl named Anna lived up the street from me. We used to play together and be good friends... just small children at the time. I remember accidently getting gum in her hair, and her sister threatening to beat my ass as a result. I remember her older brother, Matt, picking on my sister and me--but not in a mean way. I remember us getting in silly trouble and getting grounded for staying out late to watch some other neighborhood kids play... what was it...? Battleship, I think.

She was a good kid. We reconnected in high school and hung out a bit back then. We fell out of touch afterward. Years later, I heard she was a good friend and room mate of a coworker, so I tracked her down and friended her on myspace. That's about as far as the hunting went.

I just read on facebook that she's passed away. I don't know any details yet, just that the services are on Sunday, and I probably have to work. I believe she was 30.

That depressing note aside, Toni is on vacation. I'm using her laptop since my computer has decided to kick the bucket. I -think- it's the hard drive, so I am going to buy another one and install it as soon as the recovery discs I've ordered come in. I'll lose a year and a half of data... but, oddly, after all the shit I've been through in the last year, I'm not sweating it. Sure, it's annoying, but it's not like seeing a traumatic car wreck or being in so much pain that you wish you were dead. :D

Es geht kein Weg zur�ck.
Wei�t du noch, wie's war?
Kinderzeit - wunderbar:
Die Welt ist bunt und sch�n.
Bis du irgendwann begreifst,
Dass nicht jeder Abschied hei�t,
Es gibt auch ein Wiedersehen.

Immer vorw�rts. Schritt um Schritt.
Es geht kein Weg zur�ck.
Was jetzt ist, wird nie mehr ungeschehen.
Die Zeit l�uft uns davon.
Was getan ist, ist getan.
Und was jetzt ist, wird nie mehr so geschehen.

Es geht kein Weg zur�ck.
Es geht kein Weg zur�ck.

Ein Wort zuviel im Zorn gesagt,
Einen Schritt zu weit nach vorn gewagt:
Schon ist es vorbei.
Was auch immer jetzt getan,
Was ich gesagt hab, ist gesagt.
Und was wie ewig schien, ist schon Vergangenheit.

Immer vorw�rts. Schritt um Schritt.
Es geht kein Weg zur�ck.
Was jetzt ist, wird nie mehr ungeschehen.
Die Zeit l�uft uns davon.
Was getan ist, ist getan.
Und was jetzt ist, wird nie mehr so geschehen.

Ach, und k�nnte ich doch
Nur ein einziges Mal
Die Uhren r�ckw�rts drehen.
Denn wie viel von dem,
Was ich heute wei�,
H�tte ich lieber nie gesehen.

Es geht kein Weg zur�ck.
Es geht kein Weg zur�ck.
Es geht kein Weg zur�ck.

Dein Leben dreht sich nur im Kreis.
So voll von weggeworfener Zeit.
Deine Tr�ume schiebst du endlos vor dir her.
Du willst noch leben, irgendwann.

Doch wenn nicht heute, wann denn dann?
Denn irgendwann ist auch ein Traum zu lange her.

Immer vorw�rts. Schritt um Schritt.
Es geht kein Weg zur�ck.
Was jetzt ist, wird nie mehr ungeschehen.
Die Zeit l�uft uns davon.
Was getan ist, ist getan.
Und was jetzt ist, wird nie mehr so geschehen.

Ach, und k�nnte ich doch

Immer vorw�rts. Schritt um Schritt.

Nur ein einziges Mal

Es geht kein Weg zur�ck.

Die Uhren r�ckw�rts drehen.

Was jetzt ist, wird nie mehr ungeschehen.

Denn wie viel von dem,

Die Zeit l�uft uns davon.

Was ich heute wei�,

Was getan ist, ist getan.

H�tte ich lieber nie gesehen.

Und was jetzt ist, wird nie mehr so geschehen.

~Wolfsheim

I really hate laptop touchpads.

I don't think I'm cut out for the relationship I am in. Every time something stupid is said, I just want to run away and beat my head into a wall. Furiously. I can't stand it when someone is hateful. Maybe it's because that's how my dad and mom were; go for the jugular. Don't get me wrong, I'm no fucking angel. I can be downright mean.... But not hateful. If you've ever said something hateful to me, you've probably seen how I react. I just recoil and get quiet. That's a deep cut. A scratch, an insult, makes me angry. Saying something or doing something that goes below the belt makes me not want to bother speaking. It's not worth it. You're not worthy of my ire. And that's just fucking sad.

Ah, I miss Dead Like Me. Such a good show... so sad that the movie was fucking terrible. I bought the first two seasons at work and have been watching them religiously. It's all good until you get to the last episode and realize there isn't any more to enjoy, then it's just tragic. Like Firefly. Or Pushing Daisies. And so on.

I don't have anything interesting to share. I'm kind of in a cloud right now.

I think good ol' D-land ate my last little post. Basically, it was about being happy that my medical bills are almost wrapped up, my immune system is shot (I had a cold that became bronchitis, but I'm getting over it), and I got a raise and my vacation time this year got boosted. Hurrah!

I think I have two little bills incoming, and then I'll be done with the whole gall bladder ordeal forever. It'll take some time to recover my funds after all this, but I'm finding I don't mind so much. Quality of life (that is, not vomiting and not being in mindfucking pain multiple times a week) vs. bank funds... I'll take the quality of life, please. If I ever experience pain greater than that... I will probably be dying.

I just had a bad cold before my surgery in March, and then I got another one last week that drained into my lungs. I have a wicked cough, still, but I'm getting over it pretty quickly.

Lastly... Vacation!! Woo! I get two weeks instead of one this year. Still not sure where to go exactly. I think I have to book wayyyyyyyyy ahead to use my dad's timeshare, since he switched companies. Grr. No fair. I wanted to go somewhere nice. ; ; Well, I'm going to split the weeks up, anyway. That way I get two vacations. Mmmm sweet time off.

Oh, and fuck WoW. I'm so tired of hearing about it.... sometimes, I want to jab butter knives into my ears.

You take the pieces of the dreams that you have
'Cause you don't like the way they seem to be going
You cut them up and spread them out on the floor
You're full of hope as you begin rearranging
~Keane, "The Lovers are Losing"

One of the most disillusioning things to face as you reach slowly into the "prime" of your life is how incredibly pathetic you are. Or maybe it's just me. I never realized how weak I am. Most of the time, I just let life happen to me rather than making my life happen as I would like. True, I'm a bit of a pessimist. But things are only as hopeless as you let them be.

Going back in time and giving myself a swift kick in the ass is out of the question. There are so many things, great and small, that I wish I could change. I should have said yes, I should have said no, I should have never gotten myself in that situation, or I should have taken that leap.

I don't know where I'm going with this. It's uncomfortable to discuss, even with myself. It's like I'm afraid to even write it down. It feels so cripplingly stupid to not know what to do... It's easier to do nothing.

Oh, I am so going to hell.

What a strange day... mentally, anyway.

I'm mostly healed. Muscles in my stomach are still sore, but I would say they're up to 85% performance!

I've noticed a number of things since I got my gb removed (besides the massive bills... we won't talk about those).

1. I can eat again. Hurray. As little as I eat red meat (maybe once or twice a month), it's amazing how much you miss it when you can't have it. No agonizing pain. No vomiting. It is, in a word, bliss.

2. I feel a lot better as a whole. I'm not as tired and sluggish and generally miserable. I feel almost back to my old self.

3. My stomach makes horribly funny noises. It's probably my liver dumping bile... but it's such a funny noise, it can make heads turn.

4. I cannot go back to my old, crappy eating habits. I have got to have something in my stomach soon after I wake up or it screws up my whole day. I also have to eat a lot more fiber or my bowels will get back at me in cruel ways.

In other news, I think the first inkling of my biological clock is beginning to appear. Unfortunately, there's no sledgehammer in sight. However, there's no fucking way in hell I'll be having a family any time soon. Even if I wanted one, it is impossible. The circumstances are completely wrong... I just hope that I'm not too old by the time the circumstances are right--if they ever are right.

And that's all I have to write about that.

Now to watch some Fringe.

I'm not used to being on drugs for any grand length of time. My sense of time is completely fucked. Thankfully, they are blotting out the pain, for the most part. I can't believe it's been 4 days since the surgery. Feels like one big blur. I'm really fucking sore, but it's getting better. I'm trying to be all stiff-upper-lipped about it, but sometimes I do want to scream if I move the wrong way. All in all, it's hard to say if I'll be ready for work in a week. When I wake up in the morning, and the lortabs have worn off, I feel pretty gimpy. Luckily, I have several people taking care of me, which is nice. Toni, my mom, my dad, and John are all checking up on me and keeping me company.

I've been playing Fallout 3 far too much, but I can't do much else! I'm almost done with it.

Oooo I feel a heavy sleep coming on. nom nom nom.

ninja edit 7:47 a.m.

FUCK. I tried to sleep in my bed again. Just woke up hurting like a little bitch. And my room feels cold and damp. Can't cough right now or I'll cry. Took some pills, grabbed the space heater... So uncomfortable. These sober moments between painkillers are terrible. The last 3 mornings, I've had to take phenergan on top of the lortab because I feel grossly nauseous. I'm just sitting here--patiently waiting for my drugs to kick in so I can move around without muttering and squeaking. Maybe I can go back to sleep soon :/

I got my gallbladder out yesterday morning. I'm in a lot of pain and probably can't type that well, but I'm too awake to try to do anything else. My vision is so blurred that I couldn't even read a book. Getting up from a chair and lying back in bed is just about tear-inducing. Naturally, I had to pee about a half hour after Toni went to bed. I'm on lortab, but all it does is take the teeniest edge off the pain. And I'm running a fever, which is normal . I wish I could sleep through this all. I have five little holes in my belly. Trembling. Still cotton mouthed. Hate sleeping on my back. Air trapped in my shoulders and chest from surgery. Very unpleasant.

Can't shower 'til Saturday? I don't remember much of what was told me in "recovery." I hope my mom or dad were paying attention. Mom's been mother-henning me. Gods, I can't stop shaking. Feels like my middle was run over by a Zamboni.

They do over 500,000 of these surgeries a year in the US, so I know that there are thousands of others going through what I am going through right now. We should start a gimp club.

Murr... it's hard trying to make decisions when you're in pain. I can't even decide if I want to stand up again or try lying back down or what. Can't wait 'til this is over.

Progress report: I went to the doctor a few weeks ago. I was sent to have an ultrasound the next week. They found gallstones. By voice mail tag yesterday, I was told I'm being referred to a surgeon. Now I'm trying to get a hold of the doctor's office because I have basic questions to ask......

And I'm already having anxiety dreams about the money. I have really shitty insurance, you see. It's better than none at all, but still pretty harsh. $3000 deductible. $5000 max out of pocket from me. So, I have to pay for the doctor visit and the ultrasound (which goes toward the deductible) and then the consultation with a surgeon and who knows what toward the actual removal of my gallbladder. Either way, I'm about to drop 5k to get rid of the thing causing me so much pain--so I should be happy about that. And I would be completely happy if I weren't so poor.

I do have some money set aside--my nest egg, which seems to keep getting shot to shit much like Carl and Ellie's Paradise Falls fund in Up. Just when I think I've got a nice little cushion in the bank, something happens. I've heard varying estimates of how much a gb removal costs. I'd like to be optimistic and hope that it's on the lower end of those estimates (3k!), but I'm not an optimist. At least it's not an emergency surgery.... Those can get ridiculously expensive.

Oh, well, whatever happens, I know my dad will help me out if he can, though I really do not want to depend on him.

I'll probably end up using my vacation time for the week or so I'll be out from surgery. That's another big, "Well, shit!" because I've been wanting to have my own nice, little vacation away from home and somewhere pretty. I guess I can always plan for next year... when I'll probably have another unavoidable crisis.

I tell ya, it's nasty business being a cog. All work and no play makes you wonder why you even bother.

There's something chilling about driving by the very spot you watched someone die as their car flipped into the air after a horrible impact from another car. One week to the day....

I noticed glints or broken glass and plastic as I drove by the spot on New Circle where a woman was hit by a drunk driver last Tuesday. They twinkled in the light of several headlights. When the debris is finally swept away by nature, I'll still remember the sparks and the soaring car... the smoke, the red and blue lights, the blood... and the body bag.

I can't believe it's 2010. By the way, are you calling it Twenty-Ten or Two Thousand Ten? Hmm... choices.

Going to the doctor near the end of the month. Trepidation is the word. Soooooo ready for a diagnosis and a remedy, yet frightened at the same time. Guess that's not unusual.

I don't feel very articulate tonight. Bed time!

For a little while there, I was doing so well. And now I'm back to square one. I've had three gallbladder attacks in the last several days. I'm having one right now. It woke me up after maybe 10 minutes of sleep. The culprit? I'm not really sure, but I'm guessing it was the glass of milk I had with the peanut butter cookies I made. Everything else I ate wasn't too out of the ordinary. I only ate two cookies today. I had three yesterday without any problems.

Last week, I woke up in the middle of the night with an attack from having eaten steak. A couple days later, I had another attack, but I don't recall what I ate to set that off.

This is so tiresome. I'm sick of the pain. I'm sick of vomiting for relief.... a relief so minimal that it hardly makes it worth it because the churning of my stomach afterward is also unpleasant. I can feel the balloon slowly deflating, and I'll be fine in about an hour. I may have said this before, but it holds true: I wouldn't wish this on my worst enemy.

I set up my insurance a few days ago... It's crap, but it's all I could afford given the bills and expenses I see in the coming year(s). If I do wind up getting my gallbladder removed, the anaesthesia alone could cost over a thousand dollars.

Time to try to sleep again. Joy.

Sidenote: friend asking other friend out before he's even divorced from his estranged wife... and female friend's reaction... priceless. I'm sorry, but even if you've had a crush on her for a while now, just because you have a crush doesn't mean she's going to oblige you. I mean, shit, we've been trying to tell you as much for the last few months. Your wife just moved to another state last month. You just moved into an apartment for yourself. You just decided to go through with a divorce after the wife was in another state (way to be a man!). Your crush isn't interested in you at all. Couldn't you have given yourself, I don't know, a few months before asking another woman out? Seriously? You're lucky for the response you got... I would have been much more brutally honest and left you crying into your pillow. I'd pity you if you weren't so thick-headed.

You know what I love? I love it when my mom brings up morbid shit on the phone. For example: when she had her first miscarriage, my dad left her at the hospital and went to work. When she woke up, she reached up and the doctor held her hand, not my dad.

Yay. You can feel the love from here, right? It's as though she goes to great lengths to make me uncomfortable, when she should be working out these issues with a professional.... There are just some things you don't vent about to your children.

I know my dad's a ripe bastard sometimes. But he's still my dad. I feel the same way about my mom; she can be a raging cuntacular harpy, but she's still my mom. You don't get to pick your parents.

I just ripped all my Live CD's. It's been a very long time since I've listened to them. I forgot how great they are. I even remember the lyrics. Surprise, surprise.

Five months until I can see a doctor... If I get insurance in October, that is. I wonder if I'll be okay by then. Or if I'll be worse by then.

It's amazing how pain can give you a brighter perspective when it's not there. Everything mundane seems wonderful. Everything stressful is a minor annoyance.

I'm bravely going on about business as though everything is okay, while secretly worrying my fucking brains out. But sometimes, I'm quite peaceful and content with the universe. It's very zen when it happens. It's like all the bad chemicals have drained out of my head, the stars have aligned, and all is well (despite how crappy the world is).

Tra la la di da. I thoroughly enjoy my time off, even if it's spent on silly things. That's all one can ask for, right?

Oral Sex can cause throat cancer. Well, if you read the article, you'll understand. A lot of people underestimate HPV.... both men and women. But perhaps moreso men than women. The reasoning behind that is that men sadly can't be tested for HPV, and there are over a hundred different strains of it. Men can carry and transmit the disease all their lives without ever knowing they have it. Unless a man has the outwards appearance of HPV (omg genital warts) or noticed something strange when he pees or whatever, he'd never know if he has it.

The HPV vaccine that women can get only vaccinates against a handful of strains of HPV--the ones which cause cervical cancer. If you read the second link above, you'll see that the strains that can cause cancer in men do not present genital warts.

There is no cure for HPV. Even if you wrap it up, you can still get HPV.

Be cautious; don't be stupid. Know the person you're fucking. Know yourself.