"And another one gone, and another one gone,..."

I don't mean for that title to sound negative, no matter who might think otherwise. It's not the way I think of these blogs or anything... Nor do I want anyone to think I am incapable of mourning a loss. (I still find myself upset when people I haven't seen for years die, & I have found myself to be unable to even properly deal with the end of new "Burn Notice" episodes.) However, there is something (several, to be honest) I am currently trying to get rid of. This is what I felt the need to write about today.

If you read one of my blogs from last month, you will see it mentions a then-recent appointment with my endocrinologist (or, as I have long preferred to refer to that person, "my sugar-doctor"). I have seen her once since then... And that is what started it all. She was upset about how much I've lost weight recently. (So am I!) She also was upset about me being taken-off of Geodon, a  medication one of my other doctors (my "general guy", often referred-to by others as my "family doctor") weaned me off of earlier this year. She also seemed to be VERY-strongly feeling that I needed to be on some other kind of psycho- something drug to take its place.

This reminds me of a few years ago. I was seeing an "endo" (how I refer to them, for time-saving's sake) who for one reason or another decided he no longer wanted to deal with me. He therefore told me to have my "general" person handle my Diabetes & everything else. That didn't go so hot (in anyone's opinion), & I eventually got pushed along to an endocrinologist in Pennsylvania. Eventually, I was redirected to the one I currently see.

Ironically, she may have talked herself right out of a job, or at least a patient. She told me to make an appointment with my "general guy", who at that appointment, set me up to go see another endocrinologist. (I'm pretty sure I'll write about that appointment if & when it happens.)

In the meantime, I have an appointment coming up later in the week with the psychiatrist I was originally set-up with by a counselor I was seeing in the same building he works in because (in her words), "He can prescribe medications, & I can't." (He has yet to put me on anything, & I doubt that will change this month.) Later in the week, I go back to the same building to see a counselor there that it sounds like they're setting-up to replace the aforementioned one (who took another job elsewhere, for reasons I believe had nothing to do with me).

Regardless, I expect sometime within the next five years (at absolute-most), I will be free of them all... It will be proven, however such a thing is done (I Googled it, & came-up relatively-empty) that I "am not now, nor ever was" ANY "Type" of Diabetic. Connected to this or not, the majority of my other doctors will become as smart as I for one expect people who go to that much schooling to be, & realize I would've been MUCH better off all this time if they were each individually able to just stop seeing me without shipping me off to each other.

The Eleventh Shoe

Originally hand-begun around 4:15 this AM.

I have Googled myself relentlessly over the past month.

I don't mean that as any sort of euphemism; I strive to make my blogs & Twitter "feed" something my beloved nephews can read (as much as anything; Only 1 of the 2 is "school age"). What I mean is precisely what I (hand-)wrote: I have searched my own name (& several of my self-chosen "name de 'Net"s) on Google.com.

Do not assume from this I am self-obsessed; Questioning my parents, sibling, & best friend of over 2 decades will reveal I talk as much about "total strangers" & fictional folks as I do myself. The main reason for these attempts to "find myself" is to find years-old blogs like this one. (Should my currently-disconnected external hard drive be compatible with my next PC, "my autobio" is 5-6ths written, & I once hoped to include some of them in it.)

As I took a writing break to read that much to myself, I started tapping "Dr. Comfort" on the floor. That sentence will make more sense if-&-when you know that "my Dr. Comforts" is what I call the shoes I've now worn for 12-plus hours straight. I call them this not due to my podiatrist (Dr. Fonagy), but what they each say, both on the bottoms & the box they came in.

Earlier this week, Dr. F. said things I don't now recall verbatim about my diagnosed Diabetes potentially causing BIG problems with/for my feet. If not for that, he, you, & all the aforementioned people should know they'd be very likely later today to find me in the city I've lived & walked in for years, but in the shoes I've long referred to as "my black 'boks".

Honestly, I don't believe there is/are any special thing(s) about the black Reeboks I wore for years. I'm sure I could touch them without leaving the spot I sit in now, from where I can also see the white Reeboks I wore prior to them, which may also still fit.

In the closet with the white 'boks are a pair of "dress shoes" someone bought me semi-recently, which I wore to church services for "a stretch". In there also are a pair I call "my Marching Band-ers", which I wore in the school marching band during my Senior Year. (I graduated a dozen years ago!)

Regardless, here is the Important Thing: All the shoes I'm not wearing have remained still the entire half-hour I've been writing, & I don't believe Ohio gets many earthquakes,... So none of theses are the oft-mentioned "other shoe" I'm waiting-on "to fall".

Where Am I? ...?

Before you contact me in an attempt to answer that question for me (via E-mail, Twitter, or a blog "Comment"), know this much: I already know the answer as it pertains to me specifically. I have said for literally years (to myself & a bunch of others) that "I live in Butt-Crap, Ohio". [It always reminds me of the years when my sister, my only other sibling, was going to college in Kentucky, & used to say the school was located "in (or near) BFE." At the time, I considered that a guarantee she would eventually meet & marry someone, perhaps largely because they & their family allowed her the ability to get out of the areas of both her college & where we grew up. Now, she is indeed married with her third child on the way, but she lives in the house I spent my first 2 decades in! I admit this is one of the few areas where I find her to be even somewhat "unpredictable".]

Anyway, as I said, I have spent 90% of my life in the same county of the same state, & therefore, obviously the same country. However, that still leaves me to wonder where I am.

For one thing, like many, I had dreams of different potential future occupations when I was growing up. For a few years, I thought of myself as being in a band, the other members of which had the dumbest names. (I prefer to not even think about it all anymore, though I remain sure these details will be publicized by my sister on her Twitter account, if not TV, should I ever become the least bit successful.) I also thought for a stretch that I would become a famous pitcher for the Dodgers, largely based on the "un-hit-ability" of a pitch I believed I created, which I know I then named after myself, but (as far as I know) can myself no longer throw. (For all I know, CC Sabathia, a man I once watched pitch for a local team who now does so for the world-famous Yankees, may in fact have thrown that very same pitch in a game this week, & been paid a ton of money for it!) For at least the past decade, I have been planning on a writing career, one that seems feasible due to my talent in the area & my actual ability to do so from just about anywhere I go... However, as my own Twitter profile admits, I have been "Printed several times, (but) never paid for it", leaving that in what I see as an unidentifiable area between the pre-plan & actual undertaking.

Here's another thing I think I know, however; Whether you are a pitcher like Mr. Sabathia; A singer-songwriter, like Dave Grohl (Grammy-winning member of once Nirvana & now the Foo Fighters, & born in the same hospital as my sister & myself); A movie star (Dad contended for a long time that "Cleveland's own" Halle Berry, since that contention an Oscar-winner, will some day be interested in him); Or anything else, a main aim is either to get out of your home area or to make it famous for better than it currently is. I grew up watching TV (which is not to say that I wasn't doing so 2 hours ago), & got sick of "Ohio" repeatedly & literally serving as a punchline. More-specifically, I am (as I said) from the same area as a Grammy-winner (have literally walked the streets he lived on), & a starter in a recent Super Bowl (Mario Manningham went to the same high school as both my parents), but also the same area as Maurice Clarett (same school as Manningham) & the "Joke Jims". (I think Dad was on a first-name basis with Tressel, & I myself got a signed "form letter" from then-Senator Traficant.)

Even so, I now find myself occupying the same sort of "undefinable area" career-wise as my long-dreamt-of writing career. I was waiting in the hospital to get some bloodwork done earlier this week, which was ordered by a doctor I was seeing the next day (I also enjoy I can write relatively well regardless of my health-level), when I read a review of a play being performed locally. The review was accompanied by a picture including someone I have considered a close friend for years, & one paragraph in particular praised her work in the show. Sounds great; Right? Yeah. I sent her a message on Twitter, telling her, "Congrats!"... And almost-immediately got depressed...

Don't get me wrong; To this very second, I remain happy for my friend. However, what bothers me is simply a law of Physics. (Admittedly, I know little more than what I've seen on "The Big Bang Theory".) For years, I've heard people say, "What goes up must come down," & I'll never doubt it. However, what I see as just-as-obvious & never spoken is what happens previously in most of those cases (whether in actuality or purely hypothetical): "In order to go up, you gotta start down."

For instance, I've spent a ton of time in Ohio hospitals, everything from the local hospital (which seems to have a staffing issue a month) to what I often call "the world-famous Cleveland Clinic". (Actually had a kidney operated on there a few years back!) Every time I am in the ER, located on the Ground Floor, I know being admitted means going up in an elevator. Likewise, when I am released, I know which ever relative picks me up (I am the only unlicensed member of my "family of four"), I know getting to their vehicle means we ride the same car right back down. (It's this I think of when people seem depressed as they speak about getting "the shaft" from their jobs.) This leaves me to wonder why many people, who I'm sure (though not as often) have all had the same hospital experiences as me, don't remember, recall, & ponder both.

For over a decade, I have spent time walking through the local streets. I spend much of this time walking either to or from the local Mall &/or movie theaters. More often than I need think about, I spend much of that time imagining different portions of articles that will eventually be written about me when a local theatre performs a show I, in fact, wrote with the specific intention of premiering it at that same theatre, while in a cast of another show being performed there. I imagine it being written by a man I have admittedly little respect for (him or his opinions on many of the arts), largely because we have a history of online contact regarding articles he has written over the years & things he said in them, etc.

However, I often also consider what might be written later (both about me & the area I come from) when this same script gets performed outside the state of Ohio. In both cases, I have supposed/dreamt/expected something will be said about me "surprisingly emerging from small-town Ohio", or perhaps "coming out of the same area that brought the country Maurice Clarett & Jim Traficant," etc...

Therefore, I find myself mentally, &/or often emotionally, split: If this area is best-known for some of the aforementioned names & their stories, it may indeed be quite a surprise when the multi-genre, multi-platform talent I believe myself to eventually become is "offsprung" from it. However, if we are known more for Catherine Bach (AKA the original "Daisy Duke" on "Dukes of Hazzard") & Austin Pendleton (my Mom has repeatedly worked on a stage named for his mother, and they seem to invite him back for a "celebration" of his family every year, though I mainly know him for "The Muppet Movie" & 1 episode of "The Cosby Show"), then the national audience will never possibly see my work as a rise from that, meaning my future was ruined perhaps before I was ever born!

Bonus Blog: “What Gets Me Is…” Version 2.0 - The 2-Parter

I know that in the blog I wrote a few days ago, I said it would probably end my blogs for the month, which I also know has not changed. (Happy Birthday to my nephew!) However, if you’re new to my blogs (never read me when I was at Xanga), you should know I “live Improv” beyond the point I get sick of sayin’ it, so you can’t really trust anything I say regarding the future.

One thing I can almost-guarantee nobody else has read is a piece I wrote years ago called, “What Gets Me Is…”. I originally planned it to be a series, perhaps published/printed in either the local Tribune or the school paper. However, I believe I only ever wrote the first one, & I have the only printed copies of that in a folder in my bedroom closet.

Even so, recently, I thought of a few new subjects I want to cover in that sort of piece. Therefore, I now present to you…


“What Gets Me Is…”, Version 2.0 - Issue 1

Part 1: “The Concentration”
Let me start by getting a few things out of the way. When I write about “the concentration”, I am not referring to “concentration camps”, or anything regarding the Nazis or the Holocaust. I also am not referring to Dr. Phil & the millions of others out there who seem to focus on males being the physical/sexual abusers of their girlfriends/wives.

Hypothetical Situation That Really Happened #1: A few days ago, I was walking around a store at the local Mall “complex”. At the time, I was a legal adult citizen of this state with legally-achieved “disposable” income. Walking through this store, I noticed a bunch of clothes hanging. Above them was a sign, saying the store was having a sale with big discounts on their “maternity” clothing.

In my entire life, I can guarantee you I have had no need for “maternity” clothes. (Perhaps my sister… But with her birthday over a month ago, & Christmas a few months ahead, that sale would have done me no good this month.) I also don’t frankly care one bit about wearing clothes to give me a certain “look” or do anything else to attract any sort of potential romantic relationship.

All that being said, I spend a lot of time at the Mall stores & other local shopping areas. Looking at stores specifically based around maternity (saw one at this same Mall closing yesterday) & others based around either women or guys whose lives seem to hover around attempting to attract these women, I want to walk up to a Customer Service desk, & quote “Jay & Silent Bob Strike Back”, asking, “When’s gonna be my time?!”


Part 2: “When Trash Is Trash”
The thing I remember I was going to do when I originally began this series years ago is mainly look at not everything that “gets me”, but largely popular ideas & phrases & the like. With that original intent in mind, I have the one for this “Issue”: “One man’s trash is another man’s treasure”.

Now I’m not about to lie; I get the basic idea of that, & it could be largely true. For instance, my Mom loves both dropping things off at the local Goodwill stores, & buying things from these same stores. (Especially around times like now, when she is doing a play locally, & needs something for her costume.) Also, within walking distance of where I type this is an old store where, at least once a month, they have sales put on by the Easter Seals Society, where the place is filled with things (mostly, I think, picked-up by people given that task) no longer needed by the original owner that others can now purchase and use. (This is where my Mom gets a ton of toys & things for when my nephews stop by.)

But here’s the “thing” for me… I am not against the idea of someone else being able to use something I have later (though they often actually can’t, as I hold onto it, still having use for it myself). Also, I’d be lying if I didn’t mention the large number of CDs & DVDs I have I bought at Buybacks (originally called CD Warehouse) that had all been owned by someone else previously.

Even so, living where I do, I see two sides of this. One is the fake fireplace in the lobby. There, people place all sorts of food, drink, & clothes, available for nothing on a “first come, first serve” basis. However, when I make my regular walking trips to the local Mall, I am sure to pass at least 1 (if not 2) giant, blue Dumpsters. At least once a week, Mom or I has a garbage bag to take to one of them, filled with things (mainly pop cans, in my case) that we once had obvious uses for, but haven’t needed now, in some cases for days. If indeed “One man’s trash is another man’s treasure”, how have I lived here 6 years now, & never seen a single person taking anything out of one of those Dumpsters?!

OK… Think that’s all I wanted to write for this one. (Actually, I know I had some more ideas, but they’re just not “coming down the pike” at the moment.)

After The Ending

Hey, everybody! Welcome to my first blog of the official new Fall TV season. (Well, sort of; I know some shows don't premiere until next week. The CW Network is delaying some premieres until late next month, I think, & I think "Nikita" will return sometime after Thanksgiving! Meanwhile, USA Network seems to be premiering a new season of a show once every 6 months at least.)

As I watch the premieres this week (both of brand-new shows like "The Crazy Ones" & starts of new seasons of faves like "Big Bang" or "NCIS: Los Angeles"), I am (semi-ironically) thinking about endings. For one thing, some shows had cliffhanger endings that made it seem the new season would continue on the same fictional day as the last one ended ("NCISLA"), whereas others just leave you with questions some fans want answered. [While I watched every episode of "Burn Notice", I never considered myself a "shipper". I don't really care that "Michael" & "Fiona" ended-up in the same building, nor do I care if Maggie Lawson (AKA "Juliet") ever comes back to "Psych".]

That makes me think more about my own endings... And yes, I do mean that to be plural! For one thing, I am not anywhere near suicidal. (I don't believe I ever will be again; As I've told many counselors/psychiatrists, "When I get depressed, I get lazy, & won't do anything at all.") For one, I don't think it will bother my sister to tell you my older nephew is celebrating a birthday this coming weekend. I have every intention of making the party (gift bought, but unwrapped & card yet to be signed), but for many years, I have wondered if you're supposed to be celebrating the year you're ending or the one you're starting. (Doesn't help that my birthday is practically smack-dab in the middle of the last month of the year!)

Also, I am thinking about when my play is getting performed. For any unaware, I don't mean one I am acting in. I made a decision a few Winters back I was done being on the stage. This is one I wrote... At least, as much as it's been written. I've "lettered-out" the music for the songs in the first act (have the notes by letter in order, but not staffed), & have yet to even do that much for Act Two. Even so, I have already developed a list of, say, a half-dozen people I would happily have in it or working on it with me, as well as at least 3 people I may try to get some form of restraining order on, keeping them "X-number-of" feet/yards away from the show.

I (with, I think, perhaps, some help from a relative) am also trying to get my "guardians" to get moving on this computer-buying thing. Once I get my own computer again, I will continue a few stories I started writing "X-number-of" years back. (Someone tell me if you know how to contact Random House or one of the big, non-"vanity" publishers about publishing your stuff so you get paid, & maybe don't have to pay them.) Also, then (when that's done), I will get to the ending I really want... The end of my relationship with the "guardians"!!! (I've taken to thinking of them as "The Law-Evading Lawyers", & have even considered prosecuting him/them for stealing from my accounts.)

Well, for now, that should cover it, & will be the end of my blogs for this month.

"See Me, Feel Me..."

Hey, everyone! I'm back again! (A while back, on my old blog, I set-out an aim for myself to do 1 a week. That is what I am aiming for again here.)

Another thing I did a lot on my old blog I am repeating here is "stealing" titles. For anyone who may not know, my title this time comes from a song by The Who. (Or, as my Dad often called it when I was growing up, "Who-music".) I actually can't tell you the last time I listened to any "Who-music", largely because it's near the end of my largely-alphabetized CD collection, & therefore VERY hard to get to.

The reason I chose this title is those are my two best hopes to communicate with anyone right now. I finally did get my hearing aid the other day, but the audiologist had VERY specific instructions about when I should/shouldn't wear it. Mom & I (long story short) kinda broke those the day of the appointment, so I'm kinda wondering where to go from there, how, etc.

Another thing that continues is my ongoing effort to get a computer. Actually, perhaps that should be "effortS". See, a key part of this is timing. I am simultaneously wanting to get a new computer & get entirely rid of any connections to my "legal guardian(s)".

-[The explanation for the quotes is a long story... The explanation for the "(s)" is not so much of one. If I call the office of Mr. Letson, who I was first told was my guardian, I am asked if I wish to talk to him, schedule an appointment with him, etc. If I E-mail him (the address is on his business card), however, I will pass about 50 birthdays before I "hear" from him again. Meanwhile, E-mail another man in the same office, & he fully answers all questions within a day. Ironically, this is one of the main reasons I wish to get rid of my connections to all of them.]

I was told long ago (during 1 of maybe 5 times I've actually spoken to Mr. Letson) the steps that needed to be taken for me to get a computer (since he/his office has control of my financial accounts right now). I was never told how I might be able to do it if I remove any & all "guardians", but I'm betting that accomplishment would involve more of me & much less of my "representatives" (& all that jazz), & yet still (in some semi-ironic way) be more difficult for me. Therefore, if any of them actually find my blog (got a weird paranoia-like feeling they Google me, etc. once in a while), take this as a warning that getting my new/next computer will be THE LAST THING YOU EVER DO FOR ME!!!

Anyhow, as I alluded to early on, this blog was mainly set to hit the one-a-week aim, & mention the new hearing aid. I have no medical appointments this upcoming week, so I may skip blogging 'til October.

The Other Part Of Reality

With my last blog ending in (semi-) current events, let me start this one in a similar way. About 20 hours ago, I was sitting on my bed, watching the TNT series "Perception". For any unaware, it stars Eric McCormack (the male half of "Will & Grace") & Rachael Leigh Cook, most-famous to people (at least those my age) for "She's All That". (I actually "follow" her on Twitter, & she occasionally posts old pictures of that cast.)

About-as-recently, I had an appointment with my endocrinologist yesterday morning...

Before I cover that, excuse me for this related note. In my closet right now is a green T-shirt I bought that says, "Notice: Whatever you're doing, saying, or thinking, I'm not interested". I've never worn it, & it actually still has tags & things on it. I thought about wearing it yesterday, but chose not to, since I planned to ask her 2 questions, which I thought she wouldn't answer honestly if she read the shirt. Now, I never asked the questions, & therefore, SO wish I had worn the shirt.

Since I bet you're curious, one question was how I could keep my blood-sugar numbers under control while gaining weight. (My numbers fly to the point I consider FAA contact, but I agree with the office I've lost FAR too much weight!!) The other was how she & my former endocrinologists could look at me, sitting in their offices, telling me how to care for my Diabetes, knowing I truly never had it?! (If you're new to my blogs, know I was diagnosed over a dozen years ago, but don't recall a single second including this one I actually believe I have/had it.)

Back to "Perception", though. I've seen Season 1 on DVD at Target several times, & considered buying it. When I do so, another 2 questions hit me. One is why the box for this drama mentions Eric's Emmy win for the sitcom "Will & Grace"? The other is why to call it "Perception"?
It is the second question I think about often. I've read the saying about "perception" & "reality". In 90% of the episodes, they are investigating at least 1 murder, of a person who certainly won't be at work next week.

On the side, though, I think about the all-lower-case word "perception" & the "reality" I can't watch on Bravo, E!, TLC, or VH1. This is partly because Eric plays a college professor of neuroscience. (I've been diagnosed with a neuro- issue literally as long as I can remember, & never denied it.) I also wonder about what I see as reality, what my doctors see that way, what my family sees that way, & how much of each is correct.