A Nice Cold One

While I was standing in line to get an ice cream tonight, there was a young man, about thirteen, in front of me wearing shorts and a t-shirt shivering as he waited to order his ice cream, and I thought, "What an idiot--kids are so f-ing stupid. Why would anyone that cold wait in line to make themselves even colder?" but then I wondered how many times I had stood drunk in line at a bar to get another beer, and it all made perfect sense...he must have been drunk.

The End of Adventure?

I thought when I went for my checkup in January, it would be a handshake, a pat on the back, and a quick cough with a gingerly touch. All my bloodwork and urnalysis came back perfect. Cholesterol and blood pressure were spot on and my testicles were the picture of health. So when the doctor said there was an anomaly on my EKG, I was a little surprised that I had to reschedule for an echocardiogram. He said the delay in the signal to my heart could be normal for me, but he just wanted to check.

I went in a couple of weeks later for my ultra-sound, and they told me I wouldn't have to come in if everything checked out. After a week, I hadn't heard anything, and I assumed everything was fine. However, just as I was heading out the door to tutor one evening, my phone rang and I recognized the number. My heart sank a little when I answered and the doctor was on the other end.

I wasn't getting a good signal, and I couldn't hear very well. He said he would call me back. He called four more times, but there was no one when I answered. When he left a message, I figured it wasn't that serious, but it just said to call him back--my heart sank a little more.

When I finally called back the receptionist took my name, and said, "Eric, the tests show you have a mitral valve prolapse." AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH WHat? My heart stopped. "...which is something that you were born with and is not a problem. There is no treatment, and you will be fine."

I think I would have started with, "Eric, YOU'RE OK" followed by a brief, benign description of the "condition," but that's just me. What do I know. Thankfully, though, I can keep adventuring, and my blog won't die at the age of thirty-three.

A Promise of Adventure

You know how some people look in the mirror and hate themselves? Well, that's how I feel when I look at March on my blog, but without the self loathing--I guess I just hate my blog this month, but if my blog looked in the mirror, it would hate itself, and that ain't right. This has been a boring month. I will try to turn it around by next week. I'm going to put on my adventure shoes and see what I can stir up. Wish me luck.

General Education

Tonight, my GED students were a little unclear about a question regarding birds drinking milk from bottles by puncturing the lids with their beaks after watching other birds do it. Some of them argued that it was the answer involving the instincts of the birds, but I explained that it can't be instinct for them to drink milk because birds don't have nipples, and they instantly understood why they were wrong.

A Piece of the Rock

I went to the rock climbing gym for the first time ever the other day, and it was awesome. I had always wanted to go in the past, but it just really didn't come up; however, recently, it seems to have come up a few times, so I just went.

I was worried that I wouldn't be able to make it up, but it was easier and harder than I thought it would be. Easier in that as long as you can get a decent foothold and some good grips, you're fine. Harder in that if you don't think ahead, put your arms too close to your body, panic, use your arms too much, or wait to long to make a decision, you are screwed. My arms were burning, quivering, lifeless hunks of meat and bone (mostly bone) at the end of three hours.

I tried seven different climbs, and made four of them, but I was angry every time I didn't make it. Conversely, on highest wall, on the second easiest path, I made it halfway and thought I was screwed, but somehow I made it, and it was a pretty exhilarating victory; however, there were some young kids who were better than I, but they weigh seventy pounds.

I was not sore, but my limbs were tired as hell. Thursday, I'm going back, and I won't leave until I conquer at least one of the bastards that gave me too much trouble last time. I hate working out, but I like climbing stuff--this could be my new thing.

WTF(armVille)?

I know it's sad, but I joined Facebook, not out of some intense longing to reconnect with long, lost friends from the past; it wasn't out of a sense of online community and camaraderie--it was to play Farmville.

Now, I will admit, I have been friended by some people I have not seen for years, and it's nice to be able to see what they are up to and exchange a comment here and there. And I love the anticipation of wondering who will pop up next.

But what keeps me coming back, at least ten times a day or so, is my damn fake farm, which is actually a pretty crappy version of SimCity, but they figured out how to keep me from getting burnt out because, at least in the beginning stages, I can only play about five minutes until I have to quit because I can't do anything from four to 72 hours depending on what I planted. The sad thing is, it is a matter of pointing and clicking with the requisite dexterity of a chimp, and it takes about the same amount of brain power too. So why, when technically I am using the same buttons and muscles to pay my bills or write lesson plans, do I think I am having so much fun making a vaguely resemblant avatar amble around a 32-bit farm?

My cow just mooed in my other tab, so I have to go milk it...seriously.

Early Bird

I got to sleep in late today because I had a doctor's appointment, and it felt great to get two hours extra sleep. I got dressed and hit the road, hoping that the corner store would still have breakfast sandwiches and hash browns for breakfast. Much to my relief, they actually had more sandwiches and browns than normal, and then I realized that most normal people get to work at eight or nine, not a quarter after six. I may leave work at three every day, but it's great when you get to leave for work at eight in the morning with the sun high in the sky--it's a whole new world full of sandwiches and sunshine. I guess the early bird doesn't get the worm.