I get a stipend from my work to pay for health insurance. My job pays me a salary and, in addition, pays me a stipend to spend on health insurance. They provide me with a list of providers, and I get to use their money to pay for one of their providers. If I choose a health care provider who costs more than what my stipend is, I have to pay an out-of-pocket expense for that health insurance. If I choose a health care provider who costs less than my stipend, the amount of money I don't spend is returned to me in my paycheck. So if I'm concerned with bringing home as much money as possible, then it makes more sense to choose a cheap health care provider than an expensive one.
With the insurance that we "pay for" ourselves, there are still co-pays and costs associated with going to the doctor. It's not as much as it could be, but there is a cost. So even though I pay for insurance to pay for health care, I also must pay for health care. Which means I need the money to pay for health care, which brings me back to the concept of getting as much money in my check every month as possible.
Last year, we were told that our premiums would increase. We were told this was because of the Affordable Care Act (ACA), aka ObamaCare. It's one of those answers we get far too frequently: an answer that sounds like it makes sense, but it doesn't. We don't know why ObamaCare was raising prices, we were just told ObamaCare was raising prices. It feels like a very Cave Man way of thinking. Did ObamaCare actually raise insurance prices? No. It didn't. But so many people simply will not believe that because the answer to Why Is My Health Insurance Price Rising is ObamaCare, and anyone with a Cro-Magnon brain knows that (that's Early Human to those of you without Cro-Magnon brains). It's the same reason why all full-time employees (excluding management) at Carl's Jr. were suddenly made into part-time employees: ObamaCare. Did ObamaCare force Carl's Jr. to give employees less hours and cut their benefits? No. But the reason why people making minimum wage are now working less hours, cutting their paycheck substantially, is ObamaCare.
It doesn't matter that Carl's Jr. decided to cut employees hours so that they wouldn't have to provide health insurance or benefits for their full-time employees and "take care" of the people they hired to make sure their business continues to operate on a daily basis. It doesn't matter that insurance companies have increased their prices without increasing services. It doesn't matter, because people continue to parrot the blaming point ObamaCare.
It's like an all-too-familiar situation I've been in for the last 7 years of my life. Mom and Dad get divorced, and the children are caught in the middle. One parent wants to care for the children, and the other parent wants to Win The Battle. Doesn't matter that there isn't a battle, because he's gonna win it. So the parent who is taking care of the kids tries to make them comfortable. The parent who is trying to win the battle says to them, "if you do what I say, I won't bother you. If you do what your mother says, I'll make your life a living hell." He's not concerned with the welfare of the kids because anyone who says "I'll make your life a living hell" isn't concerned with health and welfare! Kinda like the employer who says "you can have ObamaCare which will assist you in caring for your health, but if you do, we will actively prevent you from being able to care for your health." The insurance company and corporations like Carl's Jr. are holding employees and policy holders hostage. And while they hold the guns to our heads, they point to ObamaCare and say, "Look at what your foolish president is making us do!" And then they pull the trigger.
Here are some key provisions of ObamaCare. If your company has 50 or more full-time employees, you must provide those employees with health insurance. Your company doesn't have to pay for it, because the federal government has allotted money to assist you with this cost. All you have to do is accept the money. When you do, the government will provide you with insurance providers they use, or you can use their money to pay for insurance providers you would prefer to use, and your employees will have those same options. Insurance companies will be paid with these funds. In turn, insurance companies will pay doctors and health care providers to provide you with care for your health. So you can live healthy. Insurance companies cannot turn you away because you were sick before you got insurance. This was a very common practice previous to ObamaCare. Insurance companies would deny their services to those who needed it most. ObamaCare said that insurance companies couldn't do that.
In order to combat the evils of caring for people, insurance companies increased their prices without increasing their services. And companies like Carl's Jr. decided to cut the hours of their full-time employees, making them part-time employees and, thus, wouldn't need to provide them with care for their health as well as stripping them of their income. Corporations like Hobby Lobby decided to take their concerns to the Supreme Court, which agreed that Hobby Lobby wouldn't be forced to provide care for their employees. Hobby Lobby has always insisted that they pay their employees $11 an hour or more, far above minimum wage, so that they can buy health insurance. An employee making $11 an hour for 40 hours brings home about $1200 after taxes. The cheapest living arrangement I could find just now was a room for rent on Craigslist with a 58-year-old casual beer drinking male who was looking for a laid back woman, "espanic or Caucasion", to pay him $200 a month and be his wife. So after getting a room and a husband, that employee now has $1000 a month to live on. I pay over $1400 a month for health insurance. So after paying the $1000 the employee has, and $400 that the employee doesn't have, that employee now has health insurance, a husband, a place to stay, a job, and nothing else (except the $400 in debt). No food, no toothpaste, no condoms, no aspirin, no clothes, no deodorant, no nothing. No extra money for anything. And debt. Thank you, Hobby Lobby, for being so considerate of your employees that you provide them with nothing except debt and expect people to thank you for it.
http://prescriptions.blogs.nytimes.com/2010/01/12/why-does-health-care-cost-so-much/?_php=true&_type=blogs&_r=0
This site is home to the New York Times blog entitled "Why Does Health Care Cost So Much?" In this blog, you'll find this passage:
"That question — why medical care, and insurance to cover medical care, cost so much – is at the core of the legislative debate in Washington. And as Congress gets closer to approving a final bill, it is being asked by smart observers everywhere. ...So let’s ask two experts, from opposite sides of the political spectrum."
No, New York Times blog, I don't want to ask "experts" so affiliated with a political party that their answers will change based solely on their political affiliation. I want answers based on facts that don't change until the facts change, you stupid fucking blog! Facts sound something like this: Health insurance companies are a business, and as such, they are primarily concerned with making money. When they have to pay people money they have less money for themselves. So they try not to spend money in all different kinds of ways. Some of those ways include, but are not limited to denying coverage to people, and increasing prices when they can't deny coverage to people in order to keep money coming in.
I think you would be hard pressed to find somebody who would say that it's a bad thing for people to make money. I think it would be equally as hard to find somebody who would say it's a bad thing for businesses to make money. But when it comes down to making money or taking care of people, like it does so often with insurance companies, suddenly the business is all about caring for people. Because Caring For People Is Our Primary Concern. Without Our People, We Wouldn't Be Here. Which is a lie. Without money, you wouldn't be here, and making that money is your primary concern. But it sounds good to say those other things. Makes people not worry so much about how they continue to get screwed, and how they continue to give companies their money.
(In case you were wondering, the above article was posted in 2010. If you visit the homepage of prescriptions.blogs.nytimes.com, you will get this message from February 2012: "The Times is discontinuing the Prescriptions blog, which was created to track the debate and aftermath of the 2009 health care law." Using a word like "aftermath" makes it pretty clear where this blog stands on ObamaCare-- it's to blame for everything. Fuckin' blog.)
Two years ago, I was able to pay for insurance for my wife and myself and get about $120 back in my paycheck from my stipend. I used that $120 to buy groceries for myself and my family. Then I added one child to our policy, and prices increased. Both of those things took my take-home pay from $120 to about $40. I used that $40 to buy my son a week of groceries. Two years ago I was told prices were going up because of ObamaCare. I was not told anything this year.
So today I went online to adjust my health insurance. I needed to change my primary care physician. Last year, my wife went to the doctor and she said that the primary care physician we had made her feel bad. So I wanted to change. The only thing I changed was the physician. When I checked out to make sure everything was correct, I noticed that my out-of-pocket expense had changed, even though my services had not. Last year, I got $40 added to my paycheck after insuring my family. This year, I have to pay $80 a month to insure my family. That represents two weeks worth of food for my son, three if you count the $40 I'm losing as well. And that $120 total is going to pay for a service that I can't afford to use.
I don't know what the answer is.
I do know that I'm getting fucked.
And the gun that's being pressed against my head isn't being held by ObamaCare. It's being held by Global Health and Delta Dental and all the other corporations that claim to provide care. They are eating three weeks of my son's food and giving him nothing in return.
And I am powerless to do anything about it.
Thursday, October 30, 2014
Wednesday, October 29, 2014
Really Good Memory
I remember this conversation I had with my mom. It was a great conversation.
The first time I ever did stand-up comedy, I was 18 and I had just started going to a university about an hour away from home. I entered a stand-up competition for students on campus, and I had to perform 3 minutes of material. If your set went over three minutes, you would be disqualified from the competition. You couldn't curse or do offensive material. And I signed up. Stand-up was something I had always wanted to try, and Eddie Murphy had started his career with stand-up when he was 18, so I thought I would give it a shot, too. You know... because I'm exactly like Eddie Murphy.
Getting no more than 3 minutes of material together didn't seem like it was going to be difficult, but it was. I worked really hard to get good quality material in my act, and I was surprised when it started going beyond three minutes. I cut and trimmed and eventually came up with an act that was close to the three minute mark. I rehearsed a lot. I went to a friend's house and had her video tape my routine so that I could see what I looked like and how the jokes sounded outside of my head. And I invited my parents. I told them that it was only going to be three minutes, so it might not be worth their time coming. My mother came without hesitation.
The actual stand-up competition was open to the public. It was in a small-to-medium sized auditorium, probably something used for lectures. There were about 10 people who were performing in the competition, and a couple of them were very eager to tell everybody that they had done stand-up before and were professionals, and they were eager to allow us to feel like they were going to win. There was one guy who could make an oboe sound like a light saber, and I thought he was really good. Out of everybody, I was pretty sure he was going to win. He had been doing his act for a while, and he told us it was very polished. And it was. He was very funny, and I still remember his light saber oboe.
The crowd was ushered in. I saw my mom, and I waved. She waved back.
I don't remember much after the lights came down. I was really nervous.
There were some people before me. There were some people after me.
I remember somebody called my name and I went on stage and took the mic.
I started.
And then...
...I got my first laugh from the audience.
I hadn't expected that.
I'm not sure why I hadn't expected that, but I hadn't.
And when people laughed, I had to stop speaking. Otherwise they wouldn't be able to hear me over the laughter.
And even when I stopped speaking, my timer was going.
I hadn't planned on that!
I only had three minutes!
But the audience continued to laugh.
And laugh.
And Laugh.
And at one point, I tried to politely motion for them to stop laughing.
But they wouldn't.
And even as I waved my hand at them, I realized that I was telling them to stop doing what I had wanted them to do all along-- Laugh!
But I was going to be disqualified if they didn't stop!
And then, I fiinished.
"Thank you."
And they erupted into applause!
And they stood up!
And they were still laughing!
It was an amazing experience.
I asked my mother about it later, and she gave me her perspective as an audience member.
She didn't know what my routine was going to be, but she was biased before anyone got on stage. And she tried to temper that bias, but it was hard for her. But she tried. And she watched the people before me, and mentally said, "I'll bet my son is funnier than they are." And then she watched me come out, and wasn't surprised by the crowd's reaction, but *was* surprised at the same time. She knew I was good, but she didn't know that others would share her opinion as vocally as this audience did. And she said that it was a really nice feeling to have a whole room of strangers cheering for her son and laughing at his jokes. It was nice to watch me do as well as I did. And then I was done, and she was very proud of me. And as I walked off the stage, she was certain that I was funnier than anyone who had come before me. And then another performer came out, and he wasn't as funny as I was. And then another one. And another one. And it dawned on my mom, "We could win this whole thing!" I remember when she first told me this that I was struck by her use of the word "we". She didn't say "you could win this whole thing," or "he could win this whole thing," but she included herself. She was part of my team, and that felt really good. She wasn't stealing any of my thunder or trying to take credit for anything she hadn't done. But she alligned herself with me, and that felt awesome. Really, really awesome. One of the biggest differences between stand-up and every other stage performance I've ever done is that stand-up is solo. You're alone. You're alone when you write the material. You're alone when you perform the material. Everything else I had done before or since had other people with me. I may have written alone, but I didn't perform alone. Even if I performed a solo, I had performers to come on before or after me. The success of the show didn't hinge entirely on me. Stand-up has no one but yourself. And having my mom use the word "we" was super comforting and unexpectedly awesome. So she watched the other people come out, and she thought, "We could win this whole thing!" And more people kept coming out, and none of them were as funny as I was or had gotten the kind of reaction I had gotten. And even the guy with the oboe didn't get the crowd laughing like I had. He was funny. And the audience reacted to him. But it was clear to her, even after the oboe light saber, that I was the obvious winner. And when they announced me as the winner, she wasn't surprised at all and she *was* surprised at all! Of course her son was good, but she didn't realize that anybody else would see him the way she saw him. And this entire room did!
After the show, I'm pretty sure my mom took me out to eat. That is typically the best part of any show I do. Even after opening for "Bobcat" Goldthwait and having him invite me to go and party with him and a whole bunch of other people, I chose to go eat with my mom. And yeah, there were times that I wondered what would have become of that had I gone out with "Bobcat". Would we be friends now? Would I be hugely famous? Maybe. But I think I would do it the same way if I had to do it over again. Not that "Bobcat" wasn't a nice or cool guy. But my mom is just that groovy. She drove almost three hours to watch me perform for 3 minutes! Move over, "Bobcat", gotta go have pie with my mom at Denny's. I'll bet it was the Denny's right by the slaughterhouse, too, but I don't remember. That slaughterhouse was so massively stinky, and it was on the road into town, so every time you came to town you had to drive through miles of dead pig stench. Disgusting. And they built a Denny's next to it!! Who was the drunk genius to come up with that idea?! I don't know, but I would do all of that again if given the choice.
Really good memory.
I love that memory.
The first time I ever did stand-up comedy, I was 18 and I had just started going to a university about an hour away from home. I entered a stand-up competition for students on campus, and I had to perform 3 minutes of material. If your set went over three minutes, you would be disqualified from the competition. You couldn't curse or do offensive material. And I signed up. Stand-up was something I had always wanted to try, and Eddie Murphy had started his career with stand-up when he was 18, so I thought I would give it a shot, too. You know... because I'm exactly like Eddie Murphy.
Getting no more than 3 minutes of material together didn't seem like it was going to be difficult, but it was. I worked really hard to get good quality material in my act, and I was surprised when it started going beyond three minutes. I cut and trimmed and eventually came up with an act that was close to the three minute mark. I rehearsed a lot. I went to a friend's house and had her video tape my routine so that I could see what I looked like and how the jokes sounded outside of my head. And I invited my parents. I told them that it was only going to be three minutes, so it might not be worth their time coming. My mother came without hesitation.
The actual stand-up competition was open to the public. It was in a small-to-medium sized auditorium, probably something used for lectures. There were about 10 people who were performing in the competition, and a couple of them were very eager to tell everybody that they had done stand-up before and were professionals, and they were eager to allow us to feel like they were going to win. There was one guy who could make an oboe sound like a light saber, and I thought he was really good. Out of everybody, I was pretty sure he was going to win. He had been doing his act for a while, and he told us it was very polished. And it was. He was very funny, and I still remember his light saber oboe.
The crowd was ushered in. I saw my mom, and I waved. She waved back.
I don't remember much after the lights came down. I was really nervous.
There were some people before me. There were some people after me.
I remember somebody called my name and I went on stage and took the mic.
I started.
And then...
...I got my first laugh from the audience.
I hadn't expected that.
I'm not sure why I hadn't expected that, but I hadn't.
And when people laughed, I had to stop speaking. Otherwise they wouldn't be able to hear me over the laughter.
And even when I stopped speaking, my timer was going.
I hadn't planned on that!
I only had three minutes!
But the audience continued to laugh.
And laugh.
And Laugh.
And at one point, I tried to politely motion for them to stop laughing.
But they wouldn't.
And even as I waved my hand at them, I realized that I was telling them to stop doing what I had wanted them to do all along-- Laugh!
But I was going to be disqualified if they didn't stop!
And then, I fiinished.
"Thank you."
And they erupted into applause!
And they stood up!
And they were still laughing!
It was an amazing experience.
I asked my mother about it later, and she gave me her perspective as an audience member.
She didn't know what my routine was going to be, but she was biased before anyone got on stage. And she tried to temper that bias, but it was hard for her. But she tried. And she watched the people before me, and mentally said, "I'll bet my son is funnier than they are." And then she watched me come out, and wasn't surprised by the crowd's reaction, but *was* surprised at the same time. She knew I was good, but she didn't know that others would share her opinion as vocally as this audience did. And she said that it was a really nice feeling to have a whole room of strangers cheering for her son and laughing at his jokes. It was nice to watch me do as well as I did. And then I was done, and she was very proud of me. And as I walked off the stage, she was certain that I was funnier than anyone who had come before me. And then another performer came out, and he wasn't as funny as I was. And then another one. And another one. And it dawned on my mom, "We could win this whole thing!" I remember when she first told me this that I was struck by her use of the word "we". She didn't say "you could win this whole thing," or "he could win this whole thing," but she included herself. She was part of my team, and that felt really good. She wasn't stealing any of my thunder or trying to take credit for anything she hadn't done. But she alligned herself with me, and that felt awesome. Really, really awesome. One of the biggest differences between stand-up and every other stage performance I've ever done is that stand-up is solo. You're alone. You're alone when you write the material. You're alone when you perform the material. Everything else I had done before or since had other people with me. I may have written alone, but I didn't perform alone. Even if I performed a solo, I had performers to come on before or after me. The success of the show didn't hinge entirely on me. Stand-up has no one but yourself. And having my mom use the word "we" was super comforting and unexpectedly awesome. So she watched the other people come out, and she thought, "We could win this whole thing!" And more people kept coming out, and none of them were as funny as I was or had gotten the kind of reaction I had gotten. And even the guy with the oboe didn't get the crowd laughing like I had. He was funny. And the audience reacted to him. But it was clear to her, even after the oboe light saber, that I was the obvious winner. And when they announced me as the winner, she wasn't surprised at all and she *was* surprised at all! Of course her son was good, but she didn't realize that anybody else would see him the way she saw him. And this entire room did!
After the show, I'm pretty sure my mom took me out to eat. That is typically the best part of any show I do. Even after opening for "Bobcat" Goldthwait and having him invite me to go and party with him and a whole bunch of other people, I chose to go eat with my mom. And yeah, there were times that I wondered what would have become of that had I gone out with "Bobcat". Would we be friends now? Would I be hugely famous? Maybe. But I think I would do it the same way if I had to do it over again. Not that "Bobcat" wasn't a nice or cool guy. But my mom is just that groovy. She drove almost three hours to watch me perform for 3 minutes! Move over, "Bobcat", gotta go have pie with my mom at Denny's. I'll bet it was the Denny's right by the slaughterhouse, too, but I don't remember. That slaughterhouse was so massively stinky, and it was on the road into town, so every time you came to town you had to drive through miles of dead pig stench. Disgusting. And they built a Denny's next to it!! Who was the drunk genius to come up with that idea?! I don't know, but I would do all of that again if given the choice.
Really good memory.
I love that memory.
Worry Is Stupid
I'm pretty much done with this Worry shit.
What is Worry, anyhow?? And why the hell is so much of my life taken up with it??
My wife and I are about to "go away" for the weekend together. It was an amazing gift from my mom, and something we've wanted for a really, really long time.
Just today, it comes to light that my wife and I have worries about the weekend. Negative thoughts have crept into our heads. And these worries range from I'm Worried That People Are Going To Make Too Much Noise, to I'm Worried That We Won't Want To Have Sex, to I'm Worried There Will Be Slugs.
What's up with that??
I've noticed Worry has increased its presence in my life. I don't feel like I used to worry about much. Although, I honestly don't have a solid memory of much before I was married, so I might have worried more then or not at all. I don't feel like I worried more, but I might have. I'm not sure how much I trust myself anymore. Whatever the case about my past, I've got Worry in my life now. And it's stupid.
What the fuck am I worried about?
I'm worried I'm going to get divorced.
Why?
Cuz.
Cuz why?
Cuz I'm ugly and stupid and smelly and fat and poor and stupid and smelly and depressed and poor and fat and bald and snore and sweaty and smelly and poor and stupid and don't do anything and can't fix anything and my car doesn't have airconditioningandmytoesaredumbandeverything
OKAY!
I'm worried that my wife is going to die.
Why?
Cuz everybody dies.
I'm worried that my kid isn't going to be able to take care of himself.
Why?
Cuz he's not right now and has no apparent ambition to in the future.
I'm worried that I'm going to get really sick and die.
Why?
Cuz there's nothing I can do about it.
Maybe that's what's up with me.
"There's nothing I can do about it."
That feels really, really important.
"There's nothing I can do about it."
There's nothing I can do about my wife divorcing me.
If she's gonna divorce me, she's gonna divorce me.
I hope she tells me about it beforehand, but I don't really have control over that.
I hope she talks with me about it beforehand, but I don't really have control over that.
I don't have control over being smelly (I clean myself and use deodorant and can keep the smell at bay for a while, but it returns eventually like normal smells do), or fat (I've been working out pretty regularly for a while now-- pretty sure it's been over a month-- and while I've lost 15 pounds, my clothes which once didn't fit me well fit even less well than they did before I started working out and that has been an enormous blow to my resolve to continue working out), or poor (I've got the best paying job I can find right now, and it still doesn't allow us to live in a way that I feel comfortable eating breakfast or lunch at work, and dinner is often relegated to what is cheap, and I cannot seem to progress up the ladder to a better paying job that might allow for more financial breathing room), stupid (I can't figure out how to stop any of the things I'm worrying about, and I can't seem to stop worrying), and all the rest in that list.
I just don't have control.
And I think my mind has decided that it MUST DO SOMETHING. There are things that are wrong and something must be done, and since there isn't anything I can *actually* do, I must worry.
And then that worry makes shit shittier.
My kid is going to succeed or fail. The End.
And I can do my best, but I don't have control over it.
And my refrigerator is going to work or not.
And if it doesn't, I don't have enough money to get a new refrigerator.
And my Internet router is going to work or not.
And if it doesn't work, I don't have the money to get a new router.
And my marriage is going to work or not.
And if it doesn't, I will be really, really hurt.
It hurts just thinking about it now.
Shit's gonna break.
Things aren't going to work.
Life is gonna suck.
Sometimes.
When did I get focused on that, rather than what was working?
Because, as of right now, my router works.
And my refrigerator works.
And my marriage works.
And my kid is being background checked for a job.
And my wife got a raise and is working more hours than she used to.
And she's been given more opportunities at her job.
And I'm able to work overtime at my job.
Yeah, there's some shit that sucks.
But there's some shit that doesn't.
Why is it hard for me to focus on the non-suck shit?
My mom used to play a game with me.
Name One Thing.
I would get down, and she would say, "Name one thing that's good."
And as a kid, that would frustrate the hell outta me, because in the middle of my feeling shitty it was hard, sometimes impossible, for me to think of one good thing.
And she would let me struggle with it a little. And sometimes she would suggest things for me. And sometimes her suggestions didn't actually feel good to me, and she would tell me to come up with something good. And I struggled, but usually I was able to name one good thing. Then she would prompt me to name one more. And I would struggle with that, and typically I could come up with one other. And she would prompt me for another. At which point I got pissed that my first two weren't good enough for her and I completely lost any good feelings from the two good things I thought of prior to being prompted for more. Maybe my mom's game wasn't as good as I remember. Nah, it was a good game. Cuz yeah, sometimes I got pissed that I could only think of one good thing in the face of my mother pushing me to think of more. That sucks when you can only think of one good thing! Especially when somebody like your mom wants you to do more, do better, and you can't! But sometimes I could. And sometimes it made me feel better. Usually what felt the best was when my mom would stop making me work to think of good things and hugged me. That hug signaled the end of me struggling to think of good things. Sheesh, when you're feeling down, sometimes the hardest thing to do is see anything good. And maybe that's not the case for you, but it is for me. That shit was tough.
What was I saying? I got lost thinking about how hard it was sometimes to think of good stuff.
Oh yeah, I worry a lot sometimes.
I wish I would stop.
Hey, there is something I can do about worrying.
I can stop.
Maybe.
Maybe not.
Hmmmm... this is proving to be as hard as thinking of something good.
Maybe I'm not able to stop worrying now.
Maybe I am.
You know what, rather than trying to stop worrying, I'm going to take a different approach.
I'm going to try to relax about it all.
Worry.
No Worry.
Divorce, kid, smelly. Whatever.
It's gonna be what it's gonna be.
And I may worry about it.
And if I do worry, that's okay.
And if I don't worry, that's okay, too.
And whatever the case...
I'm going to breathe...
And try...
To...
Relax...
Chillax...
To the max.
What is Worry, anyhow?? And why the hell is so much of my life taken up with it??
My wife and I are about to "go away" for the weekend together. It was an amazing gift from my mom, and something we've wanted for a really, really long time.
Just today, it comes to light that my wife and I have worries about the weekend. Negative thoughts have crept into our heads. And these worries range from I'm Worried That People Are Going To Make Too Much Noise, to I'm Worried That We Won't Want To Have Sex, to I'm Worried There Will Be Slugs.
What's up with that??
I've noticed Worry has increased its presence in my life. I don't feel like I used to worry about much. Although, I honestly don't have a solid memory of much before I was married, so I might have worried more then or not at all. I don't feel like I worried more, but I might have. I'm not sure how much I trust myself anymore. Whatever the case about my past, I've got Worry in my life now. And it's stupid.
What the fuck am I worried about?
I'm worried I'm going to get divorced.
Why?
Cuz.
Cuz why?
Cuz I'm ugly and stupid and smelly and fat and poor and stupid and smelly and depressed and poor and fat and bald and snore and sweaty and smelly and poor and stupid and don't do anything and can't fix anything and my car doesn't have airconditioningandmytoesaredumbandeverything
OKAY!
I'm worried that my wife is going to die.
Why?
Cuz everybody dies.
I'm worried that my kid isn't going to be able to take care of himself.
Why?
Cuz he's not right now and has no apparent ambition to in the future.
I'm worried that I'm going to get really sick and die.
Why?
Cuz there's nothing I can do about it.
Maybe that's what's up with me.
"There's nothing I can do about it."
That feels really, really important.
"There's nothing I can do about it."
There's nothing I can do about my wife divorcing me.
If she's gonna divorce me, she's gonna divorce me.
I hope she tells me about it beforehand, but I don't really have control over that.
I hope she talks with me about it beforehand, but I don't really have control over that.
I don't have control over being smelly (I clean myself and use deodorant and can keep the smell at bay for a while, but it returns eventually like normal smells do), or fat (I've been working out pretty regularly for a while now-- pretty sure it's been over a month-- and while I've lost 15 pounds, my clothes which once didn't fit me well fit even less well than they did before I started working out and that has been an enormous blow to my resolve to continue working out), or poor (I've got the best paying job I can find right now, and it still doesn't allow us to live in a way that I feel comfortable eating breakfast or lunch at work, and dinner is often relegated to what is cheap, and I cannot seem to progress up the ladder to a better paying job that might allow for more financial breathing room), stupid (I can't figure out how to stop any of the things I'm worrying about, and I can't seem to stop worrying), and all the rest in that list.
I just don't have control.
And I think my mind has decided that it MUST DO SOMETHING. There are things that are wrong and something must be done, and since there isn't anything I can *actually* do, I must worry.
And then that worry makes shit shittier.
My kid is going to succeed or fail. The End.
And I can do my best, but I don't have control over it.
And my refrigerator is going to work or not.
And if it doesn't, I don't have enough money to get a new refrigerator.
And my Internet router is going to work or not.
And if it doesn't work, I don't have the money to get a new router.
And my marriage is going to work or not.
And if it doesn't, I will be really, really hurt.
It hurts just thinking about it now.
Shit's gonna break.
Things aren't going to work.
Life is gonna suck.
Sometimes.
When did I get focused on that, rather than what was working?
Because, as of right now, my router works.
And my refrigerator works.
And my marriage works.
And my kid is being background checked for a job.
And my wife got a raise and is working more hours than she used to.
And she's been given more opportunities at her job.
And I'm able to work overtime at my job.
Yeah, there's some shit that sucks.
But there's some shit that doesn't.
Why is it hard for me to focus on the non-suck shit?
My mom used to play a game with me.
Name One Thing.
I would get down, and she would say, "Name one thing that's good."
And as a kid, that would frustrate the hell outta me, because in the middle of my feeling shitty it was hard, sometimes impossible, for me to think of one good thing.
And she would let me struggle with it a little. And sometimes she would suggest things for me. And sometimes her suggestions didn't actually feel good to me, and she would tell me to come up with something good. And I struggled, but usually I was able to name one good thing. Then she would prompt me to name one more. And I would struggle with that, and typically I could come up with one other. And she would prompt me for another. At which point I got pissed that my first two weren't good enough for her and I completely lost any good feelings from the two good things I thought of prior to being prompted for more. Maybe my mom's game wasn't as good as I remember. Nah, it was a good game. Cuz yeah, sometimes I got pissed that I could only think of one good thing in the face of my mother pushing me to think of more. That sucks when you can only think of one good thing! Especially when somebody like your mom wants you to do more, do better, and you can't! But sometimes I could. And sometimes it made me feel better. Usually what felt the best was when my mom would stop making me work to think of good things and hugged me. That hug signaled the end of me struggling to think of good things. Sheesh, when you're feeling down, sometimes the hardest thing to do is see anything good. And maybe that's not the case for you, but it is for me. That shit was tough.
What was I saying? I got lost thinking about how hard it was sometimes to think of good stuff.
Oh yeah, I worry a lot sometimes.
I wish I would stop.
Hey, there is something I can do about worrying.
I can stop.
Maybe.
Maybe not.
Hmmmm... this is proving to be as hard as thinking of something good.
Maybe I'm not able to stop worrying now.
Maybe I am.
You know what, rather than trying to stop worrying, I'm going to take a different approach.
I'm going to try to relax about it all.
Worry.
No Worry.
Divorce, kid, smelly. Whatever.
It's gonna be what it's gonna be.
And I may worry about it.
And if I do worry, that's okay.
And if I don't worry, that's okay, too.
And whatever the case...
I'm going to breathe...
And try...
To...
Relax...
Chillax...
To the max.
Tuesday, October 28, 2014
Good Fantasy
My realistic fantasies of Portland are that it will be different from here. It will be a change. It will not be what I have become accustomed to. The weather will be different. The scenery will be different. There will be new places and new experiences. There will be more public transportation. There will be more nudity, as there is a nude bike ride every year. There will be more beer, as Portland has the most microbreweries of any major US city. There will be more professional sports games, as they have more professional sports teams than I am accustomed to here. There will be more liberal-minded individuals, as Portland is one of the most liberal cities in the nation. There will be more legal suicides there, because it's the only city in the nation that has legal suicides (which was what attracted me to the state in the first place).
I can't say for certain if it's gonna be more fun. It might suck. I can't say if it's gonna be nicer. Cuz it might suck. I can't say if I could legally smoke pot there, because now you can't (I don't think... it's hard to tell with that because it's still illegal on the federal level, but it's been "decriminalized" on states levels... I dunno... it's legal in Washington, but not if your the Feds... it's weird...). I just don't know about a lot. It is certainly more expensive to live there, which is going to be the case almost anywhere we go, because we're living in one of the cheapest places to live in the nation. And that, honestly, is one of the few attractive features about where I live now. However, living in a cheap place and being surrounded by what we're surrounded with is like being given a free steak dinner every night while swimming in a septic tank. Sure, you get free steak every night. And even while you're eating steak, you're swimming in shit.
There are too many things that I don't know about Portland, and I don't think it will be possible to learn about Portland until we move there. I visited New York before moving there, and it wasn't anything like visiting. I didn't visit Detroit before moving there, and it was fine. I certainly enjoyed living in Detroit more than I enjoyed living in New York. And Portland is different from both of those and will have similarities and differences. I moved to New York without a job and struggled. I moved to Detroit with a job and didn't struggle as much (although I still struggled). I would like to move to Portland with a job in the hopes that it will reduce my struggle.
All of that is to say I've thought about it, I've done the research I know how to do without going to the city, and I'm about as ready as I can be to move there knowing that my move there is about 5 years away. So I'm not living in a fantasy world. I know what I'm doing as much as anybody ever does. And things could suck. And if they do, I'll change.
However...
I would prefer to think of Portland like I do when I fantasize about it. It's nicer that way. Makes me smile. In my fantasy of Portland, people are kind and they don't gossip. They're loyal and friendly and open and free from judgment. They are exciting and adventurous and honest. They don't judge me or my wife or my kids or my mom or step-dad or any friends I have now or have there. They are understanding. They are accommodating and helpful. They are good people. They try to be as well-rounded as they can be, gathering as much information as they can before making up their minds. And they're open to changes. They don't allow one noisy person to influence them blindly, like a preacher or Rush Limbaugh (who the fuck names their kid "Rush" anyway?!). They aren't fanatics about anything. They are fans of a lot of things. **Time out-- a Star Wars fan knows a lot about the movies, books, comics, action figures, the next movies, etc. A Star Wars fanatic will judge you if don't convert to Jediism and constantly ridicule you if your midiclorian count is too low. Fans are okay. Fanatics suck ass. Time in.** Despite the higher cost of living, it's not as difficult to live as one would imagine. Relaxation is possible and occurs often. I like my job. Fuck, I love my job. I have a comfortable home for me and my wife, who is also comfortable and happy. My eldest lives close by, and he is comfortable and happy. My mother and step-father live close by, and they are amazed at how comfortable and happy they are, too. They were skeptical, but have quickly become converts. Weekly I meet them for beers or trivia, or just dinner. Sometimes we do something special. Birthdays are fun, because friends come over. That goes for everybody's birthday. My kid has friends come over special for his birthday, and my wife's friends drop by when they want to celebrate her, and they do it comfortably and in a way that doesn't embarrass her and makes her feel good. She doesn't feel like she's gotta vacuum the couch before she can be seen by people, because she's comfortable with who she is, vacuumed couch or no vacuumed couch. She knows she's accepted and loved. My mom and step-father have a good, loyal group of people who hang out with them and make them feel as special as they are. They go places with these friends, and randomly stop in and see me, my wife, my kids, just because they're in the neighborhood. My youngest moves to the area to go to college at a university known for it's ties with Nike (who supports their football team) so that his father will pay for it while completely leaving out the fact that his mother and I are moving there, and once he's there he completely forgets about his father and his father dies in a fire over and over and over again, every day, no matter who pees all over him and in his open mouth screaming for relief but none ever comes and he's entirely abandoned by everyone on the planet and every day he is set ablaze anew and is completely consumed with pain and torture and horse piss that doesn't put out the fire and continues to blanket his meaningless existence with pain and torture and horse piss as he continues to be the poster child for partial-birth abortions. And Portland forgives me when I get that way, because they know I'm still hurting about it, and they would like to see me without so much pain, but they know I must do that alone and they can't really do much except sit next to me while I cry in between the high school lockers. And they sit while I cry. And they're there when I stop crying. And they hug me and give me a beer and tell me it's gonna be okay and they're not going anywhere. And they mean it. And they don't go anywhere. And they don't persecute me for my beliefs, and they don't persecute my family for theirs. And the air is fresh and clean. And when we get there, pot will be legal and cheap and great. And the amount of relaxation I will experience will be unrivaled even by Jell-O. **Time out-- the band Green Jell-O had to change their name because the Jell-O corporation said they didn't have permission to use the name Jell-O. Same thing happened with Chicago Transit Authority, except that wasn't a corporation, obviously. Same thing happened with Mozart Southwestern Bell. Time in.** And my wife and I will snuggle, often and freely, in a comfortable swing, or sofa, or bed, or something. And we'll cry a lot because we're so happy. And then we stop crying and we just snuggle.
Yeah, that's where I like living.
I can't say for certain if it's gonna be more fun. It might suck. I can't say if it's gonna be nicer. Cuz it might suck. I can't say if I could legally smoke pot there, because now you can't (I don't think... it's hard to tell with that because it's still illegal on the federal level, but it's been "decriminalized" on states levels... I dunno... it's legal in Washington, but not if your the Feds... it's weird...). I just don't know about a lot. It is certainly more expensive to live there, which is going to be the case almost anywhere we go, because we're living in one of the cheapest places to live in the nation. And that, honestly, is one of the few attractive features about where I live now. However, living in a cheap place and being surrounded by what we're surrounded with is like being given a free steak dinner every night while swimming in a septic tank. Sure, you get free steak every night. And even while you're eating steak, you're swimming in shit.
There are too many things that I don't know about Portland, and I don't think it will be possible to learn about Portland until we move there. I visited New York before moving there, and it wasn't anything like visiting. I didn't visit Detroit before moving there, and it was fine. I certainly enjoyed living in Detroit more than I enjoyed living in New York. And Portland is different from both of those and will have similarities and differences. I moved to New York without a job and struggled. I moved to Detroit with a job and didn't struggle as much (although I still struggled). I would like to move to Portland with a job in the hopes that it will reduce my struggle.
All of that is to say I've thought about it, I've done the research I know how to do without going to the city, and I'm about as ready as I can be to move there knowing that my move there is about 5 years away. So I'm not living in a fantasy world. I know what I'm doing as much as anybody ever does. And things could suck. And if they do, I'll change.
However...
I would prefer to think of Portland like I do when I fantasize about it. It's nicer that way. Makes me smile. In my fantasy of Portland, people are kind and they don't gossip. They're loyal and friendly and open and free from judgment. They are exciting and adventurous and honest. They don't judge me or my wife or my kids or my mom or step-dad or any friends I have now or have there. They are understanding. They are accommodating and helpful. They are good people. They try to be as well-rounded as they can be, gathering as much information as they can before making up their minds. And they're open to changes. They don't allow one noisy person to influence them blindly, like a preacher or Rush Limbaugh (who the fuck names their kid "Rush" anyway?!). They aren't fanatics about anything. They are fans of a lot of things. **Time out-- a Star Wars fan knows a lot about the movies, books, comics, action figures, the next movies, etc. A Star Wars fanatic will judge you if don't convert to Jediism and constantly ridicule you if your midiclorian count is too low. Fans are okay. Fanatics suck ass. Time in.** Despite the higher cost of living, it's not as difficult to live as one would imagine. Relaxation is possible and occurs often. I like my job. Fuck, I love my job. I have a comfortable home for me and my wife, who is also comfortable and happy. My eldest lives close by, and he is comfortable and happy. My mother and step-father live close by, and they are amazed at how comfortable and happy they are, too. They were skeptical, but have quickly become converts. Weekly I meet them for beers or trivia, or just dinner. Sometimes we do something special. Birthdays are fun, because friends come over. That goes for everybody's birthday. My kid has friends come over special for his birthday, and my wife's friends drop by when they want to celebrate her, and they do it comfortably and in a way that doesn't embarrass her and makes her feel good. She doesn't feel like she's gotta vacuum the couch before she can be seen by people, because she's comfortable with who she is, vacuumed couch or no vacuumed couch. She knows she's accepted and loved. My mom and step-father have a good, loyal group of people who hang out with them and make them feel as special as they are. They go places with these friends, and randomly stop in and see me, my wife, my kids, just because they're in the neighborhood. My youngest moves to the area to go to college at a university known for it's ties with Nike (who supports their football team) so that his father will pay for it while completely leaving out the fact that his mother and I are moving there, and once he's there he completely forgets about his father and his father dies in a fire over and over and over again, every day, no matter who pees all over him and in his open mouth screaming for relief but none ever comes and he's entirely abandoned by everyone on the planet and every day he is set ablaze anew and is completely consumed with pain and torture and horse piss that doesn't put out the fire and continues to blanket his meaningless existence with pain and torture and horse piss as he continues to be the poster child for partial-birth abortions. And Portland forgives me when I get that way, because they know I'm still hurting about it, and they would like to see me without so much pain, but they know I must do that alone and they can't really do much except sit next to me while I cry in between the high school lockers. And they sit while I cry. And they're there when I stop crying. And they hug me and give me a beer and tell me it's gonna be okay and they're not going anywhere. And they mean it. And they don't go anywhere. And they don't persecute me for my beliefs, and they don't persecute my family for theirs. And the air is fresh and clean. And when we get there, pot will be legal and cheap and great. And the amount of relaxation I will experience will be unrivaled even by Jell-O. **Time out-- the band Green Jell-O had to change their name because the Jell-O corporation said they didn't have permission to use the name Jell-O. Same thing happened with Chicago Transit Authority, except that wasn't a corporation, obviously. Same thing happened with Mozart Southwestern Bell. Time in.** And my wife and I will snuggle, often and freely, in a comfortable swing, or sofa, or bed, or something. And we'll cry a lot because we're so happy. And then we stop crying and we just snuggle.
Yeah, that's where I like living.
Monday, October 27, 2014
Random Thoughts (a little miffed)
In every religion I can think of, the central figure is usually something/somebody of enormous power. Yet it needs those it creates for some reason, usually praise and worship. That's dumb. Why would a god need that which it creates to fawn on it? Think about it. You draw something on a sheet of paper. And, just like you planned, it comes to life and starts saying things to you like, "you're awesome." Do you NEED that praise or prayer? It might be nice to hear, but it's not like the drawing is telling you something you don't already know. I'm pretty sure that whole Pray To Me and Love Me and Believe In Me thing is a construct of the folks in power who wanted to use religion as a means to control those who would let themselves be easily lead. Or not so easily led. It's hard to tell people today that you don't believe in their god-- or any god, for that matter-- for fear of retributions, some of which might involve death. It's always been tough to think for yourself, I would imagine.
Also, gods typically separate themselves from those they create. Mt. Olympus and heaven and the like are all away from the regular humans. Gods up, humans down. That, too, is stupid. If you created a drawing, and it came to life (again, as you planned), would you go back to your room where you're just gonna masturbate and watch Netflix, or would you rather hang out with your drawings and be god-like to them?
If I only get psychokinetic powers only in one room of my house, that is the room I'm gonna hang out in most of the time.
Gods of the underworld or demons or whatever are always placed in really crappy places. Those gods don't scare me, cuz they can't even get themselves out of crappy places. It's like a guy trying to get out of a bad neighborhood but just can't seem to save up enough money to get his U-Haul truck. Not scary.
And all gods are, despite their extraordinary powers and abilities, ALWAYS bested by man.
And you want me to blindly devote my life to a being that needs me to praise it, needs me not to put my penis certain places otherwise I destroy heaven (thank you, Mormons, for that one), and can be beaten by me and my buddies?
Um... no.
I'm going to create a new way of thinking about these myths.
Gods win. Period.
They don't need people. They don't really care about people. And they always win.
If a human goes up against a god, he dies. Period.
Gods live with people. And people don't know they're gods until the god decides to let the people in on it.
Gods might actually have been people at one point, until they learned to think for themselves and not blindly follow what others told them. Like stories of false gods.
Gods don't like the name "god" when it's used as a form of praise. Because gods don't give a shit about your silly little praise.
Gods don't die, but they do retire. Like Norse and Greek gods. They're not really first-string gods right now, but they're chillin' in the bar, watching these other gods, seeing what's gonna happen.
Shit's dumb, yo.
Especially the dumb shit we come up with.
Laws are dumb. Laws are dumb because they have no power other than what somebody else gives to them. You can follow a law or not, but if you do it's because you agreed to follow the law. So the law has no power, only the person who follows or doesn't follow the law.
In our current society, we have collectively decided that there are people who won't follow the rules (or laws) of our society. That's why we have cops. And once we hired those people to make sure that there are rule enforcers, we gave them the power to not abide by those rules. Police run red lights, speed, and carry weapons into areas where weapons aren't allowed. Police routinely do not follow the rules in the execution of their duties as police. And we, as a society, are okay with that. We are also okay with elevating these people above certain laws while paying these people wages that aren't much above what fast food workers make.
Our system is fucked.
And we did it.
We're so stupid.
Also, gods typically separate themselves from those they create. Mt. Olympus and heaven and the like are all away from the regular humans. Gods up, humans down. That, too, is stupid. If you created a drawing, and it came to life (again, as you planned), would you go back to your room where you're just gonna masturbate and watch Netflix, or would you rather hang out with your drawings and be god-like to them?
If I only get psychokinetic powers only in one room of my house, that is the room I'm gonna hang out in most of the time.
Gods of the underworld or demons or whatever are always placed in really crappy places. Those gods don't scare me, cuz they can't even get themselves out of crappy places. It's like a guy trying to get out of a bad neighborhood but just can't seem to save up enough money to get his U-Haul truck. Not scary.
And all gods are, despite their extraordinary powers and abilities, ALWAYS bested by man.
And you want me to blindly devote my life to a being that needs me to praise it, needs me not to put my penis certain places otherwise I destroy heaven (thank you, Mormons, for that one), and can be beaten by me and my buddies?
Um... no.
I'm going to create a new way of thinking about these myths.
Gods win. Period.
They don't need people. They don't really care about people. And they always win.
If a human goes up against a god, he dies. Period.
Gods live with people. And people don't know they're gods until the god decides to let the people in on it.
Gods might actually have been people at one point, until they learned to think for themselves and not blindly follow what others told them. Like stories of false gods.
Gods don't like the name "god" when it's used as a form of praise. Because gods don't give a shit about your silly little praise.
Gods don't die, but they do retire. Like Norse and Greek gods. They're not really first-string gods right now, but they're chillin' in the bar, watching these other gods, seeing what's gonna happen.
Shit's dumb, yo.
Especially the dumb shit we come up with.
Laws are dumb. Laws are dumb because they have no power other than what somebody else gives to them. You can follow a law or not, but if you do it's because you agreed to follow the law. So the law has no power, only the person who follows or doesn't follow the law.
In our current society, we have collectively decided that there are people who won't follow the rules (or laws) of our society. That's why we have cops. And once we hired those people to make sure that there are rule enforcers, we gave them the power to not abide by those rules. Police run red lights, speed, and carry weapons into areas where weapons aren't allowed. Police routinely do not follow the rules in the execution of their duties as police. And we, as a society, are okay with that. We are also okay with elevating these people above certain laws while paying these people wages that aren't much above what fast food workers make.
Our system is fucked.
And we did it.
We're so stupid.
Thursday, October 23, 2014
Marijuana Will Make You Psychotic and Kill You
I'm trying to get medical records from a marijuana dispensary in Arizona, where medical marijuana is legal. I'm doing this for my job, which happens to be in a state where medical marijuana is not legal. I'm told that I cannot request records from the place in Arizona because we don't request records from "these types of vendors".
Which pisses me off. One of the things I was trained in when taking this job was how to help people in other states, where laws differ from the laws of our state. Being told "no" based on ignorance is very frustrating.
So I go off, looking for... I dunno... marijuana information. And I come across a forum about how long THC (the active drug found in most marijuana) stays in your system. It's a forum of Internet users, and their expertise needs not be any deeper than they navigated to the page and started typing. In other words, they, too, are ignorant.
However, I'm fascinated with communication and how we communicate to each other. This forum provided some anger/entertainment for me, and I wanted to share it.
Here's the address for the forum:
http://www.drugs.com/answers/how-long-does-marijuana-stay-in-system-53067.html
Here's the original question asked in the forum:
aquanaut
There were several answers from people who don't know. Some sound better than others. Some people claim to have firsthand knowledge. Some say that it's based on the way your specific body interacts with that drug, as well as your metabolism rate and other factors specific to you as an individual (I tend to believe these answers more than any others). But this was an answer that stuck out to me, as posted by "Anonymous":
hi there I´m 41 years old i have been clean for 8 years now, and was addicted to almost every durg out there ... started with the occasional joint, the problem is not how long it stays in your system, the problem is that in time you are killing brain cells( becoming a walking
zombie), and the worse is the mental dependency ( first twice a week ... then believe me everyday and more than one joint... tolerance) and the worst is that it opens the doors for more hardcore drugs. I wasted 20 years of my life 2 wives my children ... MY DIGNITY.
My advice to you as you seem young is to stop now, while you have time and stop worrying about how long TCH (is what gets you high) stays in your system.
Shuey001518 Apr 2011
So here's my first beef: the initial question was, essentially, "How long does THC stay in your body?" And Anonymous answered that question with, "Don't do drugs." Actually, the answer Anonymous gave was "Don't do DURGS," but that's really just me being a little bitch about the typo in Anonymous' response. This answer isn't helpful, in any way. The question asked might insinuate somebody is using drugs, especially when paired with the question about taking a drug test, but nobody has admitted to using drugs or stated that somebody is using drugs. So telling somebody to not do drugs is pointless for this question. Secondly, Anonymous goes on to state that he became a walking zombie, lost two wives, his children, and his dignity. This has nothing to do with the question being asked and simply lets us know how completely fucked up Anonymous is. Also, Anonymous says "you seem young". This indicates that Anonymous is an idiot, as there is not even the slightest indication as to how old the asker of the question is based on the question. Anonymous, therefore, has proven himself to be a person not to be listened to or given access to a computer with Internet. Also, the argument of marijuana leading to other drugs is absolutely ridiculous, as this puts blame on marijuana for the sins of other drugs. It's like blaming steak for obesity, or Hitler's parents for the actions of Hitler. "They came first, so they're the gateway dictator! Don't be their child!" Asinine.
The response from Shuey0015 is interesting, as well. Shuey0015 first asserts, without citation, that there is no proof that THC kills brain cells.
So I went searching.
I found, according to one source, that THC causes more cancer than five regular cigarettes smoked one right after the other. I found this to be, at face value, entirely inaccurate. Cigarette papers from all major cigarette manufacturers contain ammonia and gunpowder in them, and those two ingredients alone make this assertion ridiculous. This website also goes on to say that marijuana has 50-70% more cancer causing agents than cigarettes, causes rapid heartbeat, psychosis, disorientation, depression, anxiety, changes in the brain and semen. However, this information comes from the following website:
http://www.drugfreeworld.org/drugfacts/marijuana/the-harmful-effects.html
With a name like "Drug Free World", I can see how their website might be askewed. It saddens me, though, knowing that I have navigated to this page, so others can navigate there as well and potentially believe what they read there. By the way, there are no citations on any of the claims made on this website. No journals, doctors, specialists, addicts, junkies, hustlers, peddlers, fry cooks, ampidextrians, benches, free radicals, or politicians were noted to give any information on this page. It might as well be a work of fiction.
So I went searching more.
This site seemed a little more reputable than my first site...
http://www.drugabuse.gov/publications/drugfacts/marijuana
...only because it's got a ".gov" suffix. But in all honesty, when has the government really been concerned with honesty? As I read through this site, I also noted a lack of citations, even though they made some claims completely opposite of those made on the first site, like marijuana smoke had not yet been determined to have a link with lung cancer. They also state this:
"Although the federal government considers marijuana a Schedule I substance (having no medicinal uses and high risk for abuse), two states have legalized marijuana for adult recreational use, and 21 states have passed laws allowing its use as a treatment for certain medical conditions (see “Is Marijuana Medicine?”, below)."
While they say that marijuana affects the brain, there is no indication that marijuana kills brain cells. At the very bottom of the page, there is a link to find out more about NIDA's marijuana research. If you click that link (I'll include it here...)
http://www.drugabuse.gov/drugs-abuse/marijuana/marijuana-research-nida
you find that the second question asked is about the benefits of marijuana. To which the site responds yes, there are therapeutic benefits to marijuana:
"Research suggests that THC and/or other cannabinoids (chemicals that act on the same receptors as THC in the brain and body) may have potential in the treatment of pain, nausea, obesity, wasting disease, addiction, autoimmune disorders, and other conditions. NIDA has provided and continues to provide funding for research related to therapeutic uses of cannabinoids, as it pertains to its mission, including studies on the use of THC and cannabidiol, another chemical constituent of marijuana, for the treatment of pain (as an alternative to opioid pain relievers), addiction, and other disorders. For example, one currently ongoing study is examining the antipsychotic effects of cannabidiol which may lead to new treatment options for people with schizophrenia. View the list of current NIDA-funded projects related to the therapeutic benefits of cannabis or cannabinoids. ...A few medications derived from THC, however, are now FDA approved for relieving nausea associated with cancer chemotherapy and stimulating appetite in patients with wasting syndrome that often accompanies AIDS."
This quote is weird, because I had just read (just one page earlier!) that marijuana was considered to have no medicinal uses and high risk for abuse according to the federal government, research suggests otherwise. Weird, huh? But is it going to kill my brain??!!
I went searching more.
http://healthpsych.psy.vanderbilt.edu/2009/MarijuanaBrain.htm
Ah, finally an education website! Except this seems to be a paper written by somebody who (to me) seems to be pretty pro-marijuana, so this paper is probably going to be in favor of marijuana and downplay any negatives. However, there are citations. There's a big section about how marijuana affects the brain in terms of damaging brain cells! And it says that marijuana does damage brain cells! In doses up to 200x the psychoactive dose in humans. Huh. So, essentially, somebody would have to smoke dope until they were high, and then smoke 200 times more than that to damage their brain cells. This paper also states that MRI of the brain can't detect a difference between those who smoke marijuana and those who do. MRI has shown alcohol shrinks the brain (http://pubs.niaaa.nih.gov/publications/aa63/aa63.htm), but MRI can't see a difference between a brain that has smoked marijuana and a brain that hasn't.
I went searching more.
http://www.drugabuse.gov/publications/marijuana-facts-teens/want-to-know-more-some-faqs-about-marijuana
Back to the government websites, as well as the original question of how long marijuana stays in your system. It says that standard urine tests can detect traces of THC several days after use, and if you're a heavy user (it doesn't define "heavy user"-- one joint a day, or one joint every 15 minutes?) a urine test can detect THC in your system for weeks after you stop using.
So there's no clear answer, really.
Except that there is a lot of misinformation on the Internet. You gotta be careful where you look and who you listen to (didn't use "whom" and ended with a preposition-- I'm on a roll!!).
But going back to Anonymous, this cat really bites my grapes. Telling me that he ruined his life by smoking a couple of joints when he was a kid. Fuck you, Anonymous. I'm sorry that you smoked a few joints and jumped right in to dealing meth outta your bunghole, but that's atypical, and just as I would caution anyone from planning on becoming an NBA professional by going to University of North Carolina and majoring in cultural geography because it's atypical, I would caution anyone from being fearful of becoming addicted to every drug on the planet simply because you did. Your experience is atypical, and it's a form of fear mongering to go around telling people to stop smoking weed (when they may not have even started) because it's going to do things that it doesn't do and have affects that it doesn't have and lead to things that it doesn't lead to. There is no direct cause-and-effect between smoking joints and doing any other drug. George W. Bush said that his response to the attacks of 9-11 were successful because there hadn't been any more terrorist attacks since starting the war in Iraq. While this statement is true, it's also true that there have been no terrorist attacks since I masturbated this morning. There is no cause-and-effect behind my statement, behind Bush's statement, or behind your statement, Anonymous.
**Time out-- I never used to have any difficulties with "affect" and "effect" until my wife went on a huge rant about how it's one of her pet peeves when people use these two words incorrectly, and now I have no idea which word I should use, because either word could end my marriage. Time in.**
What was I saying? Oh yeah. Personally, I think everybody should use drugs if they need to, and they shouldn't use drugs if they don't need to. Also, if you think drugs might be fun, maybe you should try them in a safe way, unless you think you'll get addicted or hurt somehow, and then it's probably not worth the risk. But you should really know yourself better than me or anybody else, for that matter, and you are going to make the best decisions for yourself. And if you don't, hopefully you'll learn from those mistakes and make better decisions for yourself in the future. I'm also a big fan of sushi. It's delicious.
Which pisses me off. One of the things I was trained in when taking this job was how to help people in other states, where laws differ from the laws of our state. Being told "no" based on ignorance is very frustrating.
So I go off, looking for... I dunno... marijuana information. And I come across a forum about how long THC (the active drug found in most marijuana) stays in your system. It's a forum of Internet users, and their expertise needs not be any deeper than they navigated to the page and started typing. In other words, they, too, are ignorant.
However, I'm fascinated with communication and how we communicate to each other. This forum provided some anger/entertainment for me, and I wanted to share it.
Here's the address for the forum:
http://www.drugs.com/answers/how-long-does-marijuana-stay-in-system-53067.html
Here's the original question asked in the forum:
aquanaut
How long does Marijuana stay in your system?
Details:
How long do you need to wait before you are clear to take a drug test?
There were several answers from people who don't know. Some sound better than others. Some people claim to have firsthand knowledge. Some say that it's based on the way your specific body interacts with that drug, as well as your metabolism rate and other factors specific to you as an individual (I tend to believe these answers more than any others). But this was an answer that stuck out to me, as posted by "Anonymous":
hi there I´m 41 years old i have been clean for 8 years now, and was addicted to almost every durg out there ... started with the occasional joint, the problem is not how long it stays in your system, the problem is that in time you are killing brain cells( becoming a walking
zombie), and the worse is the mental dependency ( first twice a week ... then believe me everyday and more than one joint... tolerance) and the worst is that it opens the doors for more hardcore drugs. I wasted 20 years of my life 2 wives my children ... MY DIGNITY.My advice to you as you seem young is to stop now, while you have time and stop worrying about how long TCH (is what gets you high) stays in your system.
There was a response to this post:
Shuey001518 Apr 2011
There is no proof that it kills your brain cells. Scientist experimented with monkeys by putting a gas mask over their whole face and pumped 30 joints a day, but the weed didnt kill their brain cells the gas mask suffocated them causing no oxygen to get to the brain (i found this info in the movie "The Union: Business Behind Getting High.") Great marijuana documentary and will change your beliefs about marijuana.
Behind Getting High.") Great marijuana documentary and will change your beliefs about marijuana.So here's my first beef: the initial question was, essentially, "How long does THC stay in your body?" And Anonymous answered that question with, "Don't do drugs." Actually, the answer Anonymous gave was "Don't do DURGS," but that's really just me being a little bitch about the typo in Anonymous' response. This answer isn't helpful, in any way. The question asked might insinuate somebody is using drugs, especially when paired with the question about taking a drug test, but nobody has admitted to using drugs or stated that somebody is using drugs. So telling somebody to not do drugs is pointless for this question. Secondly, Anonymous goes on to state that he became a walking zombie, lost two wives, his children, and his dignity. This has nothing to do with the question being asked and simply lets us know how completely fucked up Anonymous is. Also, Anonymous says "you seem young". This indicates that Anonymous is an idiot, as there is not even the slightest indication as to how old the asker of the question is based on the question. Anonymous, therefore, has proven himself to be a person not to be listened to or given access to a computer with Internet. Also, the argument of marijuana leading to other drugs is absolutely ridiculous, as this puts blame on marijuana for the sins of other drugs. It's like blaming steak for obesity, or Hitler's parents for the actions of Hitler. "They came first, so they're the gateway dictator! Don't be their child!" Asinine.
The response from Shuey0015 is interesting, as well. Shuey0015 first asserts, without citation, that there is no proof that THC kills brain cells.
So I went searching.
I found, according to one source, that THC causes more cancer than five regular cigarettes smoked one right after the other. I found this to be, at face value, entirely inaccurate. Cigarette papers from all major cigarette manufacturers contain ammonia and gunpowder in them, and those two ingredients alone make this assertion ridiculous. This website also goes on to say that marijuana has 50-70% more cancer causing agents than cigarettes, causes rapid heartbeat, psychosis, disorientation, depression, anxiety, changes in the brain and semen. However, this information comes from the following website:
http://www.drugfreeworld.org/drugfacts/marijuana/the-harmful-effects.html
With a name like "Drug Free World", I can see how their website might be askewed. It saddens me, though, knowing that I have navigated to this page, so others can navigate there as well and potentially believe what they read there. By the way, there are no citations on any of the claims made on this website. No journals, doctors, specialists, addicts, junkies, hustlers, peddlers, fry cooks, ampidextrians, benches, free radicals, or politicians were noted to give any information on this page. It might as well be a work of fiction.
So I went searching more.
This site seemed a little more reputable than my first site...
http://www.drugabuse.gov/publications/drugfacts/marijuana
...only because it's got a ".gov" suffix. But in all honesty, when has the government really been concerned with honesty? As I read through this site, I also noted a lack of citations, even though they made some claims completely opposite of those made on the first site, like marijuana smoke had not yet been determined to have a link with lung cancer. They also state this:
"Although the federal government considers marijuana a Schedule I substance (having no medicinal uses and high risk for abuse), two states have legalized marijuana for adult recreational use, and 21 states have passed laws allowing its use as a treatment for certain medical conditions (see “Is Marijuana Medicine?”, below)."
While they say that marijuana affects the brain, there is no indication that marijuana kills brain cells. At the very bottom of the page, there is a link to find out more about NIDA's marijuana research. If you click that link (I'll include it here...)
http://www.drugabuse.gov/drugs-abuse/marijuana/marijuana-research-nida
you find that the second question asked is about the benefits of marijuana. To which the site responds yes, there are therapeutic benefits to marijuana:
"Research suggests that THC and/or other cannabinoids (chemicals that act on the same receptors as THC in the brain and body) may have potential in the treatment of pain, nausea, obesity, wasting disease, addiction, autoimmune disorders, and other conditions. NIDA has provided and continues to provide funding for research related to therapeutic uses of cannabinoids, as it pertains to its mission, including studies on the use of THC and cannabidiol, another chemical constituent of marijuana, for the treatment of pain (as an alternative to opioid pain relievers), addiction, and other disorders. For example, one currently ongoing study is examining the antipsychotic effects of cannabidiol which may lead to new treatment options for people with schizophrenia. View the list of current NIDA-funded projects related to the therapeutic benefits of cannabis or cannabinoids. ...A few medications derived from THC, however, are now FDA approved for relieving nausea associated with cancer chemotherapy and stimulating appetite in patients with wasting syndrome that often accompanies AIDS."
This quote is weird, because I had just read (just one page earlier!) that marijuana was considered to have no medicinal uses and high risk for abuse according to the federal government, research suggests otherwise. Weird, huh? But is it going to kill my brain??!!
I went searching more.
http://healthpsych.psy.vanderbilt.edu/2009/MarijuanaBrain.htm
Ah, finally an education website! Except this seems to be a paper written by somebody who (to me) seems to be pretty pro-marijuana, so this paper is probably going to be in favor of marijuana and downplay any negatives. However, there are citations. There's a big section about how marijuana affects the brain in terms of damaging brain cells! And it says that marijuana does damage brain cells! In doses up to 200x the psychoactive dose in humans. Huh. So, essentially, somebody would have to smoke dope until they were high, and then smoke 200 times more than that to damage their brain cells. This paper also states that MRI of the brain can't detect a difference between those who smoke marijuana and those who do. MRI has shown alcohol shrinks the brain (http://pubs.niaaa.nih.gov/publications/aa63/aa63.htm), but MRI can't see a difference between a brain that has smoked marijuana and a brain that hasn't.
I went searching more.
http://www.drugabuse.gov/publications/marijuana-facts-teens/want-to-know-more-some-faqs-about-marijuana
Back to the government websites, as well as the original question of how long marijuana stays in your system. It says that standard urine tests can detect traces of THC several days after use, and if you're a heavy user (it doesn't define "heavy user"-- one joint a day, or one joint every 15 minutes?) a urine test can detect THC in your system for weeks after you stop using.
So there's no clear answer, really.
Except that there is a lot of misinformation on the Internet. You gotta be careful where you look and who you listen to (didn't use "whom" and ended with a preposition-- I'm on a roll!!).
But going back to Anonymous, this cat really bites my grapes. Telling me that he ruined his life by smoking a couple of joints when he was a kid. Fuck you, Anonymous. I'm sorry that you smoked a few joints and jumped right in to dealing meth outta your bunghole, but that's atypical, and just as I would caution anyone from planning on becoming an NBA professional by going to University of North Carolina and majoring in cultural geography because it's atypical, I would caution anyone from being fearful of becoming addicted to every drug on the planet simply because you did. Your experience is atypical, and it's a form of fear mongering to go around telling people to stop smoking weed (when they may not have even started) because it's going to do things that it doesn't do and have affects that it doesn't have and lead to things that it doesn't lead to. There is no direct cause-and-effect between smoking joints and doing any other drug. George W. Bush said that his response to the attacks of 9-11 were successful because there hadn't been any more terrorist attacks since starting the war in Iraq. While this statement is true, it's also true that there have been no terrorist attacks since I masturbated this morning. There is no cause-and-effect behind my statement, behind Bush's statement, or behind your statement, Anonymous.
**Time out-- I never used to have any difficulties with "affect" and "effect" until my wife went on a huge rant about how it's one of her pet peeves when people use these two words incorrectly, and now I have no idea which word I should use, because either word could end my marriage. Time in.**
What was I saying? Oh yeah. Personally, I think everybody should use drugs if they need to, and they shouldn't use drugs if they don't need to. Also, if you think drugs might be fun, maybe you should try them in a safe way, unless you think you'll get addicted or hurt somehow, and then it's probably not worth the risk. But you should really know yourself better than me or anybody else, for that matter, and you are going to make the best decisions for yourself. And if you don't, hopefully you'll learn from those mistakes and make better decisions for yourself in the future. I'm also a big fan of sushi. It's delicious.
Friday, October 17, 2014
Not helpful
My wife told her co-worker about the court situation, and the co-worker told my wife that she knew a man from a long time ago who was a family law attorney in our city whom my wife should call and talk with.
My wife called the stranger. Let's call him Steve. She fought her own anxieties and called yet another stranger, knowing she would have to tell this story to yet another person who might say really unhelpful, hurtful things. Steve gave her a favorable first impression. Answered her call even though he was driving. Pulled off the road to be able to give her more attention. He said that he would talk to my wife the next morning. His cost: my wife's co-worker would bake him cookies. My wife got off the phone and sobbed, feeling some relief that somebody was willing to help her.
Today she met Steve at 10am. I was at work. At 10:21, I got this text from her: "Not helpful".
She said that Steve hadn't listened to her about her son and his special needs. Steve said that was a "done deal". He didn't listen about incorrectly calculated child support from 2013. He didn't listen about incorrect current child support calculations. He said my wife was making a mountain out of a molehill. He took less than 20 minutes of not listening to her and told her to pay the incorrect child support payments and deal with their demands. Today.
Not helpful, indeed.
In fact, worse, in my opinion.
And that was, seemingly, my wife's last bit of energy.
She's got nothing left. So she's going to agree to incorrect child support payments that she needs to make. Because she doesn't have the energy to do anything else.
And that's a terrible tragedy, in my opinion. And it makes me so very sad. More sad than I've felt in a very, very long time.
My wife called the stranger. Let's call him Steve. She fought her own anxieties and called yet another stranger, knowing she would have to tell this story to yet another person who might say really unhelpful, hurtful things. Steve gave her a favorable first impression. Answered her call even though he was driving. Pulled off the road to be able to give her more attention. He said that he would talk to my wife the next morning. His cost: my wife's co-worker would bake him cookies. My wife got off the phone and sobbed, feeling some relief that somebody was willing to help her.
Today she met Steve at 10am. I was at work. At 10:21, I got this text from her: "Not helpful".
She said that Steve hadn't listened to her about her son and his special needs. Steve said that was a "done deal". He didn't listen about incorrectly calculated child support from 2013. He didn't listen about incorrect current child support calculations. He said my wife was making a mountain out of a molehill. He took less than 20 minutes of not listening to her and told her to pay the incorrect child support payments and deal with their demands. Today.
Not helpful, indeed.
In fact, worse, in my opinion.
And that was, seemingly, my wife's last bit of energy.
She's got nothing left. So she's going to agree to incorrect child support payments that she needs to make. Because she doesn't have the energy to do anything else.
And that's a terrible tragedy, in my opinion. And it makes me so very sad. More sad than I've felt in a very, very long time.
Wednesday, October 15, 2014
Poor foolish fucks
My wife just sent me a text.
I didn't read it all.
I was able to make out a little.
"Everybody else will WISH they had worked overtime. Poor foolish fucks."
She called everybody "poor foolish fucks" for me.
I love her so much.
James Says Diane Types Fast
James says Diane types fast.
He sits next to her and hears her type.
He's amazed.
He didn't know that kind of speed was possible.
James says Diane types fast.
He said he thought she was just drumming on the keys.
But then he went to her office.
And she was actually typing.
James raves Diane types fast.
I'm pretty sure he wants to have sex with her.
He's cheated on his wife before.
They're both black.
And Diane types fast.
I saw Diane's work today.
I could barely read it.
There were so many typos.
I was almost unable to understand it.
But James says Diane types fast.
And James can't stop talking about it.
And Diane just got promoted.
And I'm stuck cleaning up her work.
While James revels that Diane types fast.
He sits next to her and hears her type.
He's amazed.
He didn't know that kind of speed was possible.
James says Diane types fast.
He said he thought she was just drumming on the keys.
But then he went to her office.
And she was actually typing.
James raves Diane types fast.
I'm pretty sure he wants to have sex with her.
He's cheated on his wife before.
They're both black.
And Diane types fast.
I saw Diane's work today.
I could barely read it.
There were so many typos.
I was almost unable to understand it.
But James says Diane types fast.
And James can't stop talking about it.
And Diane just got promoted.
And I'm stuck cleaning up her work.
While James revels that Diane types fast.
Monday, October 13, 2014
I can't rage enough
We lost in court.
Ex-husband's child support for the oldest child ceases.
Mother's child support to the ex-husband continues.
Payments from ex-husband to ex-wife were approximately $400 a month.
Payments from ex-wife to ex-husband will be approximately $200 a month.
Ex-husband makes over 4x what the ex-wife makes.
We are dealing with child support in the first place because of our most recent attorney, who said that it was important to calculate this. We aggreed because we thought it would make the fighting stop. It didn't. And now, looking back on it, we received less than a year of child support and no tax break for the oldest child. And we will be paying over 5 years of child support to the father.
I can't rage hard enough to get all of this out of me. I can't fucking take it anymore. It's too, too, too, too much. I can't fucking rage hard enough.
My mother is broke because of this.
I am broke because of this.
I continue to support the oldest child and my wife, and this won't change.
So I'm paying the bill for this.
I'm getting hugely fucked.
No hope.
No way out.
Nothing.
Just gotta keep my head down for the next five years and work as much overtime as I can.
Because I'm all alone with this tab.
No Christmas.
No birthdays.
No anniversary trips.
Ex-husband's child support for the oldest child ceases.
Mother's child support to the ex-husband continues.
Payments from ex-husband to ex-wife were approximately $400 a month.
Payments from ex-wife to ex-husband will be approximately $200 a month.
Ex-husband makes over 4x what the ex-wife makes.
We are dealing with child support in the first place because of our most recent attorney, who said that it was important to calculate this. We aggreed because we thought it would make the fighting stop. It didn't. And now, looking back on it, we received less than a year of child support and no tax break for the oldest child. And we will be paying over 5 years of child support to the father.
I can't rage hard enough to get all of this out of me. I can't fucking take it anymore. It's too, too, too, too much. I can't fucking rage hard enough.
My mother is broke because of this.
I am broke because of this.
I continue to support the oldest child and my wife, and this won't change.
So I'm paying the bill for this.
I'm getting hugely fucked.
No hope.
No way out.
Nothing.
Just gotta keep my head down for the next five years and work as much overtime as I can.
Because I'm all alone with this tab.
No Christmas.
No birthdays.
No anniversary trips.
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