I finally finished The Know-it-All. The amount of time it took me to read this book is a testament to the fact that I actually enjoyed it. I wasn't just reading to finish. Part of the reason I like it so much, as I mentioned in another post, is how I felt like I was reading something I would have said or written. (That makes it sound like I love me...I guess I mean I liked that the book felt familiar)
For example, here is an excerpt from his book, describing his father after an experience where he and sister were lost in the mountains:
"...He liked having us nearby before then, but after that, he became obsessed with physical proximity. Nothing pleases him more than having us in the room, watching TV, even if no one's allowed to talk except for those fifteen seconds when we're fast-forwarding through commercials. After that, he wrote me a note so uncharacteristically earnest and emotional, a note all about how proud he was of me, that I can't even think about it without tearing up."
If you know my family well, you understand why this paragraph struck a chord with me. For those of you who don't know, the above describes one of, what I believe to be anyway, my father's favorite things. Sitting in his family room, watching TV, surrounded by his family. We don't have to be talking about anything, just that "physical proximity" is enough.
And those of you who know what I think of my father know that hearing him say he is proud of me is a guaranteed way to start the waterworks.
And, if you have ever watched TV with my dad, you know there is no talking except during the commercials. :)
This evening someone was complimenting me on a statement I made, and made the observation that I seem to be very analytical, much like my mother. I always feel awkward when I receive compliments, and was definitely feeling awkward then. But also, really happy. Happy to be compared to my mom.
It is a really nice feeling to be proud of your parents and pleased to be compared to them.
Currently Reading: nada!
Currently listening to: Powerless (acoustic) by Nelly Furtado
Current Mood: not a mood - but I am DIZZY...phew.
Thursday, June 15, 2006
Wednesday, June 07, 2006
Blue Tags
I stopped at Publix this evening, my grocery store of choice here in Florida (as well as the place that employed me for a good portion of my teenage life). As I was standing at the register watching the bag boy attempt to banter with the cashier, I noticed the blue tags they were wearing. Blue name tags at this store mean you are under 18.
I remember when I was a blue tag. Required 30 minute breaks every three hours. No working past a certain time. No over time.
Some days work included running around the store with a pricing gun, tagging unsuspecting co-workers. Or sitting in the stock room chatting. Or locking the new obnoxious guy in the freezer. Or telling same obnoxious guy that is was necessary to shake all the salad dressing bottles at the end of the night. Or making an extra five bucks every couple of nights for being the only kid who knew the company's mission statement. Or hoping that the cute bag boy was going to be bagging for you on a busy night.
Work was fun then.
And then I felt old. Somewhere between blue tag and blue hair.
Currently Listening to: Nelly Furtado's acoustic cover of Gnarls Barkley's Crazy
Currently Reading: nothing tonight - but still working on A.J. Jacobs
I remember when I was a blue tag. Required 30 minute breaks every three hours. No working past a certain time. No over time.
Some days work included running around the store with a pricing gun, tagging unsuspecting co-workers. Or sitting in the stock room chatting. Or locking the new obnoxious guy in the freezer. Or telling same obnoxious guy that is was necessary to shake all the salad dressing bottles at the end of the night. Or making an extra five bucks every couple of nights for being the only kid who knew the company's mission statement. Or hoping that the cute bag boy was going to be bagging for you on a busy night.
Work was fun then.
And then I felt old. Somewhere between blue tag and blue hair.
Currently Listening to: Nelly Furtado's acoustic cover of Gnarls Barkley's Crazy
Currently Reading: nothing tonight - but still working on A.J. Jacobs
Monday, June 05, 2006
Mall Hair
Thanks to my blog (and my ever increasingly obvious roots) I realized that I was overdue for a salon visit today. I considered returning to the guy who gave me the initial cut and color, but in an effort to save money, gas, and my innocent mind, I decided to try someone else.
Finding a last minute appointment is a bit of a task. Most reputable (or overpriced) salons have a bit of a wait. So I opted for the salon inside the local JCPenney. Yep. Actually, my sister had found a really nice stylist there, so I thought I wouldn't be taking much of a risk by asking for her specifically. When I called however, they informed me that she no longer worked there. Due to the fact that when I get it in my head that I want to get something done, I HAVE to do it right then, I went ahead and made an appointment for 5 pm.
It has been quite a while since I had my hair done somewhere other than an overpriced snooty salon or a "we are too cool for colors that occur in nature" salon. The stark contrast between those and the JCPenney salon did not go unnoticed. But the prices are much lower, I reminded myself as I stared at the ceiling tiles, oddly reminiscent of my seventh grade English classroom ceiling (yes, I spent a lot of time staring at the ceiling in that class).
I tried not to be troubled by the average age of the clientele and stylists (49, maybe?). I tried not to be disturbed by the bag lady hair styles sported by some of them. I tried to be positive.
While the woman worked on my highlights, reminding me periodically that it is very difficult to do proper touch up on someone else's work, I thought about how I looked in a hat, and how that may need to become my new fashion statement of the next several months.
The woman took her time, so I kept hope that maybe, just maybe, her seemingly meticulous nature would prove successful in the end. As she pulled the foils out and rinsed my hair, I was thinking more positively. (the girl in the shampoo chair next to me who was actually my own age and had cute hair also assisted in my new found optimism) But then, as the stylist was rinsing, she would pause, pick up a few strands of my hair, then pause again. She did this several times. All optimism was now dead. I was not close enough to a mirror to see what she was examining. After some more rinsing, she walked away, saying "I'll be back in a minute."
This cannot be good, I thought to myself.
She returned with a small bowl and a brush. For the boys who don't know, this is the same thing she has when she is highlighting my hair. Bowl and brush usually mean color of some sort is being mixed. My mind started to race. Why color?! And why am I not being informed of what is going on??
My suddenly mute stylist began to dab areas of my head with the moist brush. Since I was laying back, still over the sink, I couldn't see what was going on. I could only feel and imagine.
The dabbing in small areas began to grow to all over my head. And then, with gloved hands, she began to massage whatever the moistness was all over my hair. Massage, massage, massage. Pause, inspect strands, massage some more. Finally, after a great deal of massaging (which I would have enjoyed if I wasn't busy worrying that my hair might be orange) she rinsed, shampoo'd, conditioned, and threw something else on my hair for good measure.
I walked back over to the styling chair, fearing the inevitable reveal that would take place as she removed the towel from my head. As I watched with one eye open, I saw nothing terrible. Having done horrible things to my own hair in the past, I have learned that wet hair can fool you into thinking that everything is normal. So I had to wait for the styling process to be complete (which still included some trimming....yet another thing to fear) before I could asses the damage.
Amazingly enough, my hair looks fine. It isn't wonderful mind you. I didn't walk out of there praising the stylist's skills, but it definitely doesn't look bad. And the price was definitely an improvement on past styles.
Who knows...after I give myself a day to get over the initial shock of being sure that my hair was ruined, only to find it wasn't, I may even really like my new hair.
Currently Listening to: Breathe by Tristan Prettyman
Currently Reading: Still working on the A.J. Jacobs book - I think this may be the slowest I have ever read anything
Finding a last minute appointment is a bit of a task. Most reputable (or overpriced) salons have a bit of a wait. So I opted for the salon inside the local JCPenney. Yep. Actually, my sister had found a really nice stylist there, so I thought I wouldn't be taking much of a risk by asking for her specifically. When I called however, they informed me that she no longer worked there. Due to the fact that when I get it in my head that I want to get something done, I HAVE to do it right then, I went ahead and made an appointment for 5 pm.
It has been quite a while since I had my hair done somewhere other than an overpriced snooty salon or a "we are too cool for colors that occur in nature" salon. The stark contrast between those and the JCPenney salon did not go unnoticed. But the prices are much lower, I reminded myself as I stared at the ceiling tiles, oddly reminiscent of my seventh grade English classroom ceiling (yes, I spent a lot of time staring at the ceiling in that class).
I tried not to be troubled by the average age of the clientele and stylists (49, maybe?). I tried not to be disturbed by the bag lady hair styles sported by some of them. I tried to be positive.
While the woman worked on my highlights, reminding me periodically that it is very difficult to do proper touch up on someone else's work, I thought about how I looked in a hat, and how that may need to become my new fashion statement of the next several months.
The woman took her time, so I kept hope that maybe, just maybe, her seemingly meticulous nature would prove successful in the end. As she pulled the foils out and rinsed my hair, I was thinking more positively. (the girl in the shampoo chair next to me who was actually my own age and had cute hair also assisted in my new found optimism) But then, as the stylist was rinsing, she would pause, pick up a few strands of my hair, then pause again. She did this several times. All optimism was now dead. I was not close enough to a mirror to see what she was examining. After some more rinsing, she walked away, saying "I'll be back in a minute."
This cannot be good, I thought to myself.
She returned with a small bowl and a brush. For the boys who don't know, this is the same thing she has when she is highlighting my hair. Bowl and brush usually mean color of some sort is being mixed. My mind started to race. Why color?! And why am I not being informed of what is going on??
My suddenly mute stylist began to dab areas of my head with the moist brush. Since I was laying back, still over the sink, I couldn't see what was going on. I could only feel and imagine.
The dabbing in small areas began to grow to all over my head. And then, with gloved hands, she began to massage whatever the moistness was all over my hair. Massage, massage, massage. Pause, inspect strands, massage some more. Finally, after a great deal of massaging (which I would have enjoyed if I wasn't busy worrying that my hair might be orange) she rinsed, shampoo'd, conditioned, and threw something else on my hair for good measure.
I walked back over to the styling chair, fearing the inevitable reveal that would take place as she removed the towel from my head. As I watched with one eye open, I saw nothing terrible. Having done horrible things to my own hair in the past, I have learned that wet hair can fool you into thinking that everything is normal. So I had to wait for the styling process to be complete (which still included some trimming....yet another thing to fear) before I could asses the damage.
Amazingly enough, my hair looks fine. It isn't wonderful mind you. I didn't walk out of there praising the stylist's skills, but it definitely doesn't look bad. And the price was definitely an improvement on past styles.
Who knows...after I give myself a day to get over the initial shock of being sure that my hair was ruined, only to find it wasn't, I may even really like my new hair.
Currently Listening to: Breathe by Tristan Prettyman
Currently Reading: Still working on the A.J. Jacobs book - I think this may be the slowest I have ever read anything
Saturday, June 03, 2006
Lists and Learning
Still Reading: The Know-It-All (One Man's Humble Quest to Become the Smartest Person in the World) - I am still enjoying this book, even if I am reading it slower than I normally would read a book. I especially enjoy his decision to join Mensa. I always thought it was funny how people make a big deal out of Mensa. If you watched the Apprentice this season (which may automatically disqualify me from ever joining) there was one guy on there who is a member. Man, did he do and say some really stupid things. I mean really. If I were Mensa, I would totally revoke his membership. His and Sharon Stone's.
Someone once asked me if I thought about joining. Evidently, if you took your SATs before certain year, you only need to score higher than a 1250 to automatically qualify. Since I took my tests after that year, I would have to take the actual Mensa test. I can't seem to get past the fact that I would be paying to take a test, just so I could be be part of a group that boasts membership that ranges from Stephen Hawking to Scott Levy. Somehow, I don't feel all that smart paying to take a test (my PSATs and SATs were the one time I paid to take a test....which is why I only took them once). I must admit though, I did derive no small pleasure in scoring 27/30 on their practice test (in 15 minutes, rather than the 30 minute allotment). I guess I would be lying if I sat here and pretended that I didn't have some ego. (Gah! And now I hate me.)
Currently Listening to (song): John Wayne Gacy Jr. by Sufjan Stevens - Really lovely sounding melody, creepy and haunting lyrics. I knew I had heard of John Wayne Gacy Jr., but I couldn't place where. After some reading, I now understand why my fear of clowns is not all that unusual. This guy killed over 30 people, the majority of whom were buried under his porch. Oh, and the clown part. He often dressed up like a clown. CrEEpy. But aside from the creepy content of this song, Sufjan Stevens has a pretty interesting sound.
Repeatedly Listening to (album): The Gulag Orkestar by Beirut - If you are looking for something far less creepy and very unique, this is a great album. With song names like Prenzlauerberg and Mount Wroclai, you already get the idea that this isn't your normal pop fare. Amazingly, Zach Condon, the man behind Beirut, is only 19 years old. You wouldn't guess that to hear his voice. (At times it makes me think of Rufus Wainwright, but with far less whine.) The music contains an interesting combination of instruments - what sounds like accordions, violins, and perhaps a glockenspiel. Now how often can you say that about a band? What I love is that the music makes you feel as though you are somewhere else - location and time. And evidently this guy, while not popular by most standards, is blowing up the blogosphere. Check him out.
Currently eating: Gelato. Whilst driving around today, we checked out a dessert shop, in hopes that it was the shop that served gelato (my boss had mentioned it recently, and I have been wondering about it since). I just ate some tiramisu gelato that was as good as(if not better than) eating the real thing. If you are local, you must try this place.
Currently loving: My MacBook. Best present ever.
About to: Get some sleep. It's past my bedtime.
Someone once asked me if I thought about joining. Evidently, if you took your SATs before certain year, you only need to score higher than a 1250 to automatically qualify. Since I took my tests after that year, I would have to take the actual Mensa test. I can't seem to get past the fact that I would be paying to take a test, just so I could be be part of a group that boasts membership that ranges from Stephen Hawking to Scott Levy. Somehow, I don't feel all that smart paying to take a test (my PSATs and SATs were the one time I paid to take a test....which is why I only took them once). I must admit though, I did derive no small pleasure in scoring 27/30 on their practice test (in 15 minutes, rather than the 30 minute allotment). I guess I would be lying if I sat here and pretended that I didn't have some ego. (Gah! And now I hate me.)
Currently Listening to (song): John Wayne Gacy Jr. by Sufjan Stevens - Really lovely sounding melody, creepy and haunting lyrics. I knew I had heard of John Wayne Gacy Jr., but I couldn't place where. After some reading, I now understand why my fear of clowns is not all that unusual. This guy killed over 30 people, the majority of whom were buried under his porch. Oh, and the clown part. He often dressed up like a clown. CrEEpy. But aside from the creepy content of this song, Sufjan Stevens has a pretty interesting sound.
Repeatedly Listening to (album): The Gulag Orkestar by Beirut - If you are looking for something far less creepy and very unique, this is a great album. With song names like Prenzlauerberg and Mount Wroclai, you already get the idea that this isn't your normal pop fare. Amazingly, Zach Condon, the man behind Beirut, is only 19 years old. You wouldn't guess that to hear his voice. (At times it makes me think of Rufus Wainwright, but with far less whine.) The music contains an interesting combination of instruments - what sounds like accordions, violins, and perhaps a glockenspiel. Now how often can you say that about a band? What I love is that the music makes you feel as though you are somewhere else - location and time. And evidently this guy, while not popular by most standards, is blowing up the blogosphere. Check him out.
Currently eating: Gelato. Whilst driving around today, we checked out a dessert shop, in hopes that it was the shop that served gelato (my boss had mentioned it recently, and I have been wondering about it since). I just ate some tiramisu gelato that was as good as(if not better than) eating the real thing. If you are local, you must try this place.
Currently loving: My MacBook. Best present ever.
About to: Get some sleep. It's past my bedtime.
Tuesday, May 30, 2006
Gym Revisited...
So I bet you can guess what I did this morning.
Yep. That's right. As promised, I returned to the gym.
After failing to find any gyms close to my house (other than a Bally's in the ghetto and Curves, which apparently is targeted to obese unemployed women) I decided that I would try a gym that I already have a membership with by my office. I have never actually set foot in this gym, so I wasn't exactly sure what to expect. But I decided that rather than waiting until I got around to stopping by to inspect, I would just get up early and go.
The getting up early part was suprisingly easy this morning. I am pretty sure that had something to do with the window cover that mysteriously dislodged itself late last night, allowing a bright stream of light to enter directly over the bed this morning. It's as if it knew that I needed to get to the gym. (Dude, does that mean my house just called me fat?!)
When I arrived at the gym, I noticed that there was a definite difference between this gym and the last one I frequented. The woman to man ratio had changed drastically. As I go to the gym to work out, not look pretty, I like for my gym to have a high female population, preferably females of assorted shapes and sizes.
There were ZERO women working out this morning. The only women that were there were annoyingly thin and blonde employees. Blech.
On the plus side, there was no one in the cardio area. Evidently, the men that work in this gym don't believe in sissy machines. And, while the women's locker room was TINY with only two showers, it seemed a lot bigger with no one to share it with.
The workout itself went fairly well, considering the long break I have had from that kind of early morning physical activity. It felt good enough to actually want to go again tomorrow.
So hopefully, this new gym will bring with it some new and interesting stories.
A moment of silence observed for Clappy. (pour a 40, ya'll)
Listening to: Crazy by Gnarls Barkley
Currently Reading: The Know-It-All by A.J. Jacobs - really like this book so far...this guys writes the way I think a LOT
Just Finished Reading: In a Sunburned Country by Bill Bryson - thanks to the guy who bought me my first Bryson book...if you want to know about Australia, this is an entertaining way to learn a lot about the place
This post has been brought to you by: My new MacBook!! Thanks to a desire to get my Ipod to work consistently and my weakness for Mac ads , I have now wandered away from the world of the PC over to my long lost love Apple. My intial introduction to programming was on an Apple (that was 16 years ago!)..
Yep. That's right. As promised, I returned to the gym.
After failing to find any gyms close to my house (other than a Bally's in the ghetto and Curves, which apparently is targeted to obese unemployed women) I decided that I would try a gym that I already have a membership with by my office. I have never actually set foot in this gym, so I wasn't exactly sure what to expect. But I decided that rather than waiting until I got around to stopping by to inspect, I would just get up early and go.
The getting up early part was suprisingly easy this morning. I am pretty sure that had something to do with the window cover that mysteriously dislodged itself late last night, allowing a bright stream of light to enter directly over the bed this morning. It's as if it knew that I needed to get to the gym. (Dude, does that mean my house just called me fat?!)
When I arrived at the gym, I noticed that there was a definite difference between this gym and the last one I frequented. The woman to man ratio had changed drastically. As I go to the gym to work out, not look pretty, I like for my gym to have a high female population, preferably females of assorted shapes and sizes.
There were ZERO women working out this morning. The only women that were there were annoyingly thin and blonde employees. Blech.
On the plus side, there was no one in the cardio area. Evidently, the men that work in this gym don't believe in sissy machines. And, while the women's locker room was TINY with only two showers, it seemed a lot bigger with no one to share it with.
The workout itself went fairly well, considering the long break I have had from that kind of early morning physical activity. It felt good enough to actually want to go again tomorrow.
So hopefully, this new gym will bring with it some new and interesting stories.
A moment of silence observed for Clappy. (pour a 40, ya'll)
Listening to: Crazy by Gnarls Barkley
Currently Reading: The Know-It-All by A.J. Jacobs - really like this book so far...this guys writes the way I think a LOT
Just Finished Reading: In a Sunburned Country by Bill Bryson - thanks to the guy who bought me my first Bryson book...if you want to know about Australia, this is an entertaining way to learn a lot about the place
This post has been brought to you by: My new MacBook!! Thanks to a desire to get my Ipod to work consistently and my weakness for Mac ads , I have now wandered away from the world of the PC over to my long lost love Apple. My intial introduction to programming was on an Apple (that was 16 years ago!)..
Monday, May 08, 2006
Playing Doctor
More meaningless posts here...
In my frenzy of getting ready to leave for the conference last week, and the subsequent return, I never filled you all in on the results of all my tests.
The blood work was all fairly normal, although I am doing some research, since some of my "normal results" seem to be on the border of normal. Seems to me if you border on normal in enough categories, the end result is abnormality. (chew on that!)
My echocardiogram, however, was not normal. The echo showed evidence of prolapse of the mitral valve, and the "color doppler" shows tricuspid regurtitation. The doctor didn't really explain too much about what those things mean, but did refer me back to the cardiologist.
In the meantime, me and google did a little footwork. After all, when someone tells you your heart is regurgitating, you can't imagine that that is something good. And of course, you all know how much I love to pretend I know what I am doing when it comes to medicine and the like. (Ahhh...yes, who can forget the vicodin pukes of aught 5)
So first off, what is this pukey heart business? Evidently, not much. It might cause me some fatigue, but everything else about it was rather vague. Lots of "this could mean something serious" or "it's really nothing at all".
Thanks.
On to the prolapse. This proved to be more interesting. For example, some doctors (those who appreciate the value of natural medicine in addition to traditional) seem to belive that the mitral valve prolapse can be an indicator of other issues. I took a look at the list of symptoms these types of people posses and attempted to match it up with problems I have had of late:
~ Migraine headaches - ummmm...yes.
~ Dizzy, spacy feeling - often, sometimes when I am just sitting doing nothing
~ Difficulty concentrating - this was not an issue when I was younger, but it does happen here and there now
~ Balance problems, vertigo - Did I ever tell you about the time I fell down a driveway and tore up my knees?
~ Insomnia, sleep disturbances - If I am not taking my amitryptiline, I am the world's worst sleeper
~ Hyperventilation; shortness of breath - when I get nervous this happens
~ Palpitations of the heart; skipped or irregular heart beat - yup
~ Panic attacks, with pounding heart beat - I hide them well, but yes, I sometimes freak out. I have only had one really bad one so far. I had to leave the building I was in and stand outside in tears, shaking.
~ Phantom chest pain with no apparent physiological cause - I have had this one for FOREVER. My brother would always make fun of me and imitate that old lady from those Life Alert commercials.
~ Hypersensitive startle reflex - Does the fact that I constantly get the life scared out of me by people I live with count?
~ Cold sweats - Yep again.
~ Cold hands and feet - All. the. time.
~ Numbness or tingling in the fingers or toes - Yes. Once after I hung drywall I couldn't feel my fingertips for several weeks
~ Sensitivity to drugs, including alcohol, caffeine, and medications - Any meds I take affect me way more than the average person. I am a "cadbury" when it comes to alcohol, and when I drink caffeine, I occasionally get the shakes. (shakes of joy when its coming from coffee!)
As you can see, I am a textbook case of this stuff, if there actually was a textbook that recognizes this disorder of sorts. You can also see that I sound like I am about 50 years older than I am.
Evidently my body is somehow wired wrong. Where normal people's catecholamines (like epinepherine and adrenaline) only show up when the body needs them, my body likes to pump them way more than I need them. This results in a sort of hyper/exhausted state (I always called it "slap-happy"...who knew there was an actual reason for my behavior?).
The nice thing is that there are things I can do to get better. Wouldn't you know that one of them is exercise? So guess who is going back to the gym? ("Wow, Amber, your blog is so totally cyclical...cool.")
Next post: The quest for gym that isn't too ghetto, and isn't too pretty
Currently Listening to: Brad Roberts of Crash Test Dummies fame covering Hit Me Baby, One More Time
Current Mood: slap-happy (perhaps I should not have had that coke....)
In my frenzy of getting ready to leave for the conference last week, and the subsequent return, I never filled you all in on the results of all my tests.
The blood work was all fairly normal, although I am doing some research, since some of my "normal results" seem to be on the border of normal. Seems to me if you border on normal in enough categories, the end result is abnormality. (chew on that!)
My echocardiogram, however, was not normal. The echo showed evidence of prolapse of the mitral valve, and the "color doppler" shows tricuspid regurtitation. The doctor didn't really explain too much about what those things mean, but did refer me back to the cardiologist.
In the meantime, me and google did a little footwork. After all, when someone tells you your heart is regurgitating, you can't imagine that that is something good. And of course, you all know how much I love to pretend I know what I am doing when it comes to medicine and the like. (Ahhh...yes, who can forget the vicodin pukes of aught 5)
So first off, what is this pukey heart business? Evidently, not much. It might cause me some fatigue, but everything else about it was rather vague. Lots of "this could mean something serious" or "it's really nothing at all".
Thanks.
On to the prolapse. This proved to be more interesting. For example, some doctors (those who appreciate the value of natural medicine in addition to traditional) seem to belive that the mitral valve prolapse can be an indicator of other issues. I took a look at the list of symptoms these types of people posses and attempted to match it up with problems I have had of late:
~ Migraine headaches - ummmm...yes.
~ Dizzy, spacy feeling - often, sometimes when I am just sitting doing nothing
~ Difficulty concentrating - this was not an issue when I was younger, but it does happen here and there now
~ Balance problems, vertigo - Did I ever tell you about the time I fell down a driveway and tore up my knees?
~ Insomnia, sleep disturbances - If I am not taking my amitryptiline, I am the world's worst sleeper
~ Hyperventilation; shortness of breath - when I get nervous this happens
~ Palpitations of the heart; skipped or irregular heart beat - yup
~ Panic attacks, with pounding heart beat - I hide them well, but yes, I sometimes freak out. I have only had one really bad one so far. I had to leave the building I was in and stand outside in tears, shaking.
~ Phantom chest pain with no apparent physiological cause - I have had this one for FOREVER. My brother would always make fun of me and imitate that old lady from those Life Alert commercials.
~ Hypersensitive startle reflex - Does the fact that I constantly get the life scared out of me by people I live with count?
~ Cold sweats - Yep again.
~ Cold hands and feet - All. the. time.
~ Numbness or tingling in the fingers or toes - Yes. Once after I hung drywall I couldn't feel my fingertips for several weeks
~ Sensitivity to drugs, including alcohol, caffeine, and medications - Any meds I take affect me way more than the average person. I am a "cadbury" when it comes to alcohol, and when I drink caffeine, I occasionally get the shakes. (shakes of joy when its coming from coffee!)
As you can see, I am a textbook case of this stuff, if there actually was a textbook that recognizes this disorder of sorts. You can also see that I sound like I am about 50 years older than I am.
Evidently my body is somehow wired wrong. Where normal people's catecholamines (like epinepherine and adrenaline) only show up when the body needs them, my body likes to pump them way more than I need them. This results in a sort of hyper/exhausted state (I always called it "slap-happy"...who knew there was an actual reason for my behavior?).
The nice thing is that there are things I can do to get better. Wouldn't you know that one of them is exercise? So guess who is going back to the gym? ("Wow, Amber, your blog is so totally cyclical...cool.")
Next post: The quest for gym that isn't too ghetto, and isn't too pretty
Currently Listening to: Brad Roberts of Crash Test Dummies fame covering Hit Me Baby, One More Time
Current Mood: slap-happy (perhaps I should not have had that coke....)
Saturday, May 06, 2006
Hello all - I am back from a conference, which is one of the main reasons I left the gross open wound pictures up on the site. Sorry. I forget sometimes that some do not posess the strong stomach that I do.
The conference was in Vegas, and was interesting enough as I continue to learn about the industry I have found myself in. I had the chance to meet several people I have been in communication with, people my company partners with, and some that have had no association with our company, but now will now be giving us a try.
It was definitely an interesting environment. I have been to several conferences and seminars in the past, but they were always more about business suits and taking notes (or delivering the material in my case). This conference seemed to be more about meeting people and making contacts.
And despite being severely outnumbered (it's like a woman in the men's room), it was actually quite fun.
I'm still trying to catch up on some sleep, and waiting for the airport to deliver my luggage (it evidently wanted to stay overnight in Salt Lake City for some reason).
A busy week ahead as I catch up on some work, and touch base with contacts made at the conference.
Fun fun fun.
Listening to: Walk the Line by Live
Current Mood: Tired...and wondering where luggage is now.
The conference was in Vegas, and was interesting enough as I continue to learn about the industry I have found myself in. I had the chance to meet several people I have been in communication with, people my company partners with, and some that have had no association with our company, but now will now be giving us a try.
It was definitely an interesting environment. I have been to several conferences and seminars in the past, but they were always more about business suits and taking notes (or delivering the material in my case). This conference seemed to be more about meeting people and making contacts.
And despite being severely outnumbered (it's like a woman in the men's room), it was actually quite fun.
I'm still trying to catch up on some sleep, and waiting for the airport to deliver my luggage (it evidently wanted to stay overnight in Salt Lake City for some reason).
A busy week ahead as I catch up on some work, and touch base with contacts made at the conference.
Fun fun fun.
Listening to: Walk the Line by Live
Current Mood: Tired...and wondering where luggage is now.
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