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Showing posts from July, 2015

Three Second Epiphany

When I don't know what to title a blog piece, my mind goes almost immediately to Pink Floyd lyrics.  So...that may or may not explain what might be the eventual title of this post.

First off, a shout out. I have some amazingly talented friends. No. Seriously. It's ridiculous. Most I've known since Junior High. Some before that. I'm going to blame the water in Westerville. Whatever they were putting in it in the 70's is probably the stuff of legends or at the very least the stuff of SyFy original series.

Take for instance... friend of mine who writes decided that she would write some smut and self publish..since that seems to be a hot commodity these days. She posted it on the bacefook and it was funny. Because it was like, no shit. That's so true. I mean the whole 50 Shades of Grey phenom. That's one of many self-publishing Cinderella stories. So it was just funny in an irony sort of way.

And then she had a follow up post that led me to believe she did writ…

Tech/Tonic Shift

I can't really believe it's been a whole week since I've written anything in this blog. I'm almost afraid to check my inbox. I don't want to wade through all the emails from the throngs of fans clamoring for my head and 'please, for the love of Todd....when are you going to write something--anything--again?!?!'

Fear not.

That moment is upon you. Or rather me. Because if you're reading this, then that means the moment of the writing has passed. Quite some time ago from the looks of it. Seriously?? I go to all this trouble and you can't even book mark my blog? It's ok... I get it.   Shhhh. No. Don't cry. We'll get past this.  All writer/reader couples go through this.  But gotta dial the threatening emails down, mmmmkay? Nobody can write under that kind of pressure.

So. Right. A week. That's not to say I haven't written in that time. I just haven't written here. I have been writing in my paper journal. You know.…

Diffusing the F-Bomb

If you have read more than a few posts on this blog, first off--thank you. I know it's a chore sometimes. And I know that these unchartered, free-flowing waters of my mind aren't always the most navigable. And sincerely, thanks for coming back.

You see, I'm a writer.
And I want you to read my books when I publish them.

I'll come back to why those two sentences are two of the hardest I've ever written in a bit.
But back to the blog.  If you have been here before, you might find that as the years have progressed, my infatuation with a certain four letter word has recently blown up in to a full-on-sell-the-condo-and-move-in-together-in-a-little-starter-home-and-oh-yeah-I'm-allergic-to-cats-is-a-dog-ok kind of thing that Hollywood power-couples envy in their Hollywood PowerCouple hearts.

That's right...the F-Bomb.
At first it was for effect. Could I be edgy? Could I be that guy?  I could...sometimes. Or at least I could get in to that guy's head as I was wr…

10lb Limit

As you may (or may not) know,  today was my first day back to work in three weeks.
Three long weeks.
Two of those weeks I had a five-pound limit on what I could lift. If you think that doesn't sound like that big of a deal, do something for me.  Lift a full gallon jug of milk.  No big deal, right? That's eight pounds. Slightly more that half of that gallon was all I could lift for two weeks. 
Week 3, after clearance from the doc, that went up to 10 pounds. So, gallon and a quarter. 
My laptop bag right now is probably slightly over that. 
I had to get a small laundry basket so that I wouldn't overdo it when I was cleared for activity again. Because you know, a load of laundry can easily hit 25 pounds and I won't be cleared for that until sometime next week in all likelihood. 
Some of you might think that having three week off work is fantastic. And I would be inclined to agree. Normally it would be enjoyable. But when it's post-op recovery and range of motion and w…

Randomness pt.972

Before we get too far in to the me a favor.
If you like reading this blog (and I hope you do), do the following--it won't hurt, I promise.

On your keyboard (assuming you're reading this on a computer), hit the control key and D keys (CTRL +D). That should pop up a box on most browsers that will allow you to save the link to this blog.

Well...wait a minute...I guess I should ask first: do you come here via mobile device or...

You know what, it doesn't matter. I'll keep a link up to this blog as one of my final Facebook posts on my personal Facebook page.

Oh don't worry. I don't intend to do myself in or anything. Quite the contrary. I'm limiting my exposure to things that are fairly toxic. And for me, Facebook is becoming more toxic by the day.

I don't need it. It's the same old bullshit day in. I feel LESS connected to people than I did before. It's stupid. I see posts and realize I don't really know the people. Nor, with the…

Sooner or Later

Reality is a funny thing. Not necessarily funny ha ha but more along the lines of funny hmmm, something seems slightly out of place.

The last 15 hours or so, reality has been kind of a punk. I feel asleep on the love seat last night. In NOT a great position for someone who just had neck surgery. Or rather, I didn't fall asleep that way, but when I woke my neck was not happy with me. I don't think I undid benefits of the surgery, but things were definitely aching. I grabbed the muscle relaxer and the Percocets (instead of the Tylenol), because I knew it would help (thank goodness I saved a few of those back for just such an emergency).

Got things situated and put the water in to the CPAP machine.  The display was blank. Looked over. It wasn't plugged in. I remedied that. Still nothing on the display. I was in pain and slightly freaking out. I didn't really need for that thing to be dead. I monkeyed around with it for another 20 minutes and somehow it came back to life. …

Sneak Peek

Chapter 7

“Fuck.”  You have to know something about me before we get too deep in this Country Tyme Lemonade commercial you’re reading. Fuck is my go to word.  There’s a very good chance the editors are going to strongly suggest I change it, but for now, fuck it is.

The latest utterance was on the heels of realizing I needed to actually leave my apartment.  The lapses of memory and the fact that I may or may not be hallucinating Bob were enough to get me wondering.

“I’m not an hallucination, asshole.”  Bob called from the kitchen, “But you probably should get the brain bucket checked. Something definitely ain’t right.”

I didn’t bother answering Bob. How could I? Imaginary friend or not, he was right. Something was going on. The blackouts were too long. The gaps almost too great to recover from.

Now I just had to figure out how to actually leave.  This wasn’t going to be easy. Not by a damn sight.

"It's your own damn fault," he said, rustling of the Ramen noodle package gi…

Click Bait This

There is a recent...not so recent, but in Internet terms recent...trend and it annoys the piss out of me.

No. It's not incorrectly using punctuation to keep a blog having more of a conversational tone than--hey...wait. I see what you did there.

No. It's click baiting.

Somewhere along the way people that host web-sites and companies that have websites figured out that they could make money just by making people click additional pages.

Check it out.

Your average web page has between five and fifteen different links that go to external sites. These links and web page space are purchased by advertisers and they pay the host on a click by click basis.

Don't bother checking the stats--it's more of an eyeball guesstimate. But seriously...what you need to pay attention to is the clicks.

It's all about the click. take a mediocre article. Little more than most of my blog entries (in length...I like to think my content is more enjoyable). With some stock photos. And …

Sweet Relief

I had my first post-surgical follow-up today. While it was pissing the mini-monsoon on Central Ohio this afternoon, I was in a waiting room. They took an x-ray of my neck and dropped me off in the waiting room.

For about an hour.

There's a lot that an imagination like mine can think of in an hour.  And it always starts with What in the world is taking them so long?!?

It just goes downhill from there.  Maybe they saw something bad in the x-ray. And so on and so forth.
It was a fun little diversion, though, when my thoughts spun around to the miracle of x-rays. And by miracle, I mean that somehow, someone figured out what was "safe and acceptable exposure" to a concentrated beam of radiation aimed, in this case, at my neck.  

That was good for a few minutes.

My boss texted me a video clip of the monsoon I was missing outside. And I did a little parenting by phone.

If I had thought ahead I would have put the iPad in the case with the keyboard and got some writing done.

The …

Fourteen Days Later

Fourteen days ago I was going through one of the most hellishly anticipated days of my life. The day, as it turned out, was not so hellish. The anticipation was the hellish part. I had run through all sorts of nightmare scenarios in my head, not less than 4 of which left me with a little voice-box like those scare-tactic don't smoke lung cancer isn't the worst thing that can happen from smoking commercials.  Hey. I have an active imagination, what can I say?

So. That was the 29th of June. Here we are on July 13th and I'm bored out of my fucking mind. On the plus side, I caught up in my paper journal. and by 'caught up,' I mean I actually started writing in it again. I also caught up on the first 3 1/2 seasons of NCIS and finished Sense8 start to finish. Somewhere along the way I recall getting annoyed by the saturation of color on the NCIS early episodes. I remembered on the Star Wars DVD there was an audio and video calibration tool so I popped in The Empire Strik…

Five Pound Hell Revisted

OK. Here's my logic...I'm thinking something along the lines of Hey...I have a follow-up visit with the surgeon on Tuesday. That's only three-ish days from now. What harm would it be to take my instant camera and some film over to Jimmy V's for some Christmas in July pix? I mean, I know a few of my friends will be there. It'll be fine. The bag only weighs 3 1/2 lbs and the strap rests comfortably on my left shoulder and doesn't come anywhere near my incision at all.  Everything should be fine.


And that's pretty much how it happened. So. Re-capping the facts here.

Bag weighing three and one-half poundsShoulder (messenger) bag configurationLeft shoulder taking the bruntStrap easily clearing the incisionWalk of less than half-mile one waySurgery was 12 days ago All of that seems like logically I should be fine, right? 
Erm. No.
What the fuck was I thinking?
So...I figured I was in trouble by about the time I hit Jimmy V's. My shoulder, while not sore,…

Multi-Speed Field Trips

So...if you read the previous post, you know this morning got off to a somewhat rocky start.  I did manage to fall back asleep eventually this morning, but in doing so courted a few more oddities in dream land.

They involved being in my gramps's basement. My mom and I were going upstairs. I was tired and needed to get in to bed. This was post-surgery because I was aware of needing to take some pain meds. Dad was asleep in some kind of 60's retro-future wave easy chair and was snoring to beat the band. I was walking past him as he startled himself awake, knocking me in to the door frame. My neck snapped in an odd angle that caused a twinge. Either I passed out or was outside my body as I watched Dad wake up and grab a book of what I assumed to be maps. He settled on a page that looked less like a map and more like a deep druid or possibly Celtic symbol with a post-it note indicating that it might be the basis of inspiration for his next tattoo. He left the book for my daughter …

What the fuck was that?

I was standing in my bedroom. It wasn't a bedroom I remembered. but it was mine because there was a painting on the wall that was one of those splatter neon 80's paintings with the word 'Todd' on it hanging on the wall. I get the sense that a child had made it or it was a piece of art I had done as a child. There was a series of coat hooks on the wall as well. A plug in back-massager hung from one of the hooks. I contemplated telling my co-worker that he should get one for his wife for mother's day.

Yes. Co-worker, in my bedroom. One of the other Todds I work with was standing in the closet rattling a piece of paper with 3 signatures on it. He was looking at me smiling. Waiting for me to acknowledge him instead of staring at the painting next to the massager. I finally asked him what he wanted. he said he didn't want to disturb me. I said you should have just said something.

We talked about how the brooklyn store was sending back 10 checkout scanners for us to …

Five Pound Hell

This time last week I was WAY more medicated than I am at this particular moment. I had just had cervical surgery including a new-fangled form of fusion.

That was 7 days ago.  Today I woke with no pain. Some stiffness, and a bit of aching. But not pain. I know that sounds like pain and aching should be the same thing, but they really aren't. Pain is sharp, stabbing, out of no where. A reminder that if I move the wrong way, the dull pain that is constantly at a 3 will shoot up to a 5 or 6.  No. The ache is expected. It's the reminder that shit was done on my insides. The way a bruise feels. And I suppose that's what it is. My throat it sore. Swallowing still isn't such a great thing for me yet. And there is an ache in my neck. Where, I suppose, my body is getting used to the new hardware.

No bending or twisting. Both of those I am complying with, within reason I suppose. There is a certain level of twisting that comes from wiping one's own ass. And I don't think…

Down Day

It's been six days since my surgery. Surgery was Monday. This is Sunday. Six days of adjusting...getting used to things...recuperating...healing...taking it easy...trying not to go completely bat shit crazy.

My spirits up until today have been pretty good. There is, of course, an underlying film of depression that creeps in when one is on any kind of pain medication.  Yesterday the feelings of slight stir-craziness hit me. And then walking Uptown to secure a spot for the parade (that I ultimately didn't stay for) cured me of that.

Today my mom picked me up so I could head to my folks for the bi-weekly family dinner. Is it bi-weekly? Whatever the designation for every other week. Yeah. That thing.

Today was I can't quite explain it. I broke in to serious sweats throughout the day. I'm not running a fever...just sweating. I want to chop all of my hair off. But there's two reasons I can't. The first is that my daughter will get credit if I wait and le…

Hellish Limbo

Surgery was this past Monday. That was Day 0 (as I think I may have covered elsewhere, if not-it was at least a nice chat I had with a dose of percocet somewhere along the way). It is now Day 5.

Today was the first day I woke up where there was no pain. Not just a little bit of pain. Or a lot of pain. But no fucking pain at all.  I felt it after I was up and moving around for a bit, but for a blissful 10 minutes on July 4th, 2015, I actually remembered what it was like to wake up and not be in any kind of pain at all.

Yesterday I had it in my head that today was the day I would switch to the Tylenol. A walk or 3 today has convinced me that it may not quite be the day for that.

But dude. No pain.

I know right?!?!

So here's where shit gets hinky. Sorry--Netflix has every episode of NCIS streaming. Which...I have to say is about the best thing ever right now. Not that it was a great show, or groundbreaking in any way what ever, but the fact is--it's a show I enjoy and something t…

Post-Op Day 4

Went to bed last night about 1030. That's 2230 for those of you on 24hr time (I've recently switched to that on my time keeping devices because, well, it's simpler).

Woke up about 630 this morning. I slept through the night. I only woke up once when I realized that I was about to put my arm above my head. Don't ask me how I knew that in a dead sleep, but apparently I did.

After a few minutes of just laying there and collecting myself, I did the log roll up to a sitting position. Took a quick assessment of the pain and realized that I didn't really feel any. There was a bit of aching...feels more like a bruise than anything--in my shoulder (posterior, near the right shoulder blade).And no pain from around the site of the incision.

Mind is Friday. The surgery was Monday.  It may be too early to call it a success yet, but fuck if it doesn't feel like one!

The no bending and twisting is hard. And to be honest, I'm doing the best that I can, but I ha…

Post-Op Day 2

Day 0 is technically the day of your surgery. Like Ground Zero or D-Day or some shit like that. Anyway, that day was Monday. So, it's 2 days after my surgery. 48 hours. And I am now allowed to take a shower (which I'm supremely stoked for).  So I'm gonna go do that.


So...THAT was interesting. Showering without bending, twisting, or lifting overhead. Not quite as straightforward as it sounds, but I think I managed to get most of the important bits and baubles cleaned and managed to avert a minor crisis (well, mostly anyway). So the post-op instructions reference removing the dressing and letting the incision air out. And I had a minor moment of panic as I started to peel off what I later learned was the steri-strips over the sutures. I had only started to peel one of the three talking to the surgeon to confirm that I should leave those the hell alone, I did. See? Crisis (mostly) averted.

Oh. And I'm sitting at my desk. Figure it's good practic…