Stress-Induced Emotional Paralysis

Laying here gripped by inertia
My chest caving in and I can't separate why
Bumbling my way through
What I thought would be so easy
Can't I disengage my mind and coast on through my experiences?
Thinking in terms of endpoints
Trying to refute the dynamic continuity of life
Wondering what I've fucked up and what I can set right
But still my inertia holds me
I fall asleep joyfully
And wake up with twisted guts
And rapidly racing thoughts
I want to escape from the world
And feel selfishly safe

Maybe "Shut up; I'll tell you later," will work.

A few things.

I rode my bike to school this morning, there being only 3-4 inches of snow on the ground. Stupid me, I turned off Ashland, which was relatively clear, and cut south on Paulina, which was a little bit of hard-pack in the tire tracks. Plenty of slipping and sliding, which would have been fun if I wasn't sweaty and late.


I rode my bike to school this morning, there being only 3-4 inches of snow on the ground. Stupid me, I didn't check the weather forecast in the last few days and didn't realize it was supposed to keep snowing for the next 32 hours. I lost my U-pass a few weeks ago, so if I took CTA home I'd have had to both pay and walk my bike in the snow a ways. Luckily, Ryan was able to give me a ride home in his Jeep.

I taught the dental students this afternoon. It was fun. I really enjoy teaching, and it's weird to have them looking at me as if I'm possessed of amazing skills in orthodontia. My, how the tables have turned.

I still haven't told my parents about Laura G. My dad just called to ask me out to dinner with them on Thursday, for his and my mother's day late Valentine's Day date. He also said I could invite someone to come with, and I answered with a noncommital, "I'll see." I think Laura will have to work, but I will ask her. How to explain to my parents? I dunno. Maybe "Shut up; I'll tell you later," will work. I have a pretty severe lack of emotional trust in my parents; I think I've been let down by their lack of support too many times in the past to risk relying on it any more.

I'm still somewhat reticent around Laura. I'm a little intimidated by her confidence and adventurousness. Two things I've never really felt strongly about myself. Don't get me wrong, I think they're great, they make her even more attractive. But I'm discovering I fear she'll find me unexciting and boring.

What the fuck is up with my insecurities? Whenever I'm able to strip away a layer of my shit, there's something new looking up at me. Is this normal?

I've been sharing her watermelon lip gloss, in the fun way.

I realize it's been a bit since I've posted anything, but I've been busy. Right now I'm fucking tired, too. I'm yawning about every fifteen seconds, so I probably won't write too much.

Thursday, Laura G. and I went to Twist for tapas and ate a shitload, drank a bottle of wine, and then headed over to Margie's for sundaes. We sat next to each other and talked and generally enjoyed contact with each other. We fell asleep on my couch until she had to go home.

Friday she ended up not having to work her second job, so we got some food and again fell asleep talking on the couch before she went home and I went to meet Laura W. for the show at the Note. Saturday we played phone tag all day and still managed to talk for over an hour during the course of multiple phone calls. On a related note, I had to get the text message add-on for my cell phone plan. (I still prefer real voices, though.)

Today we hung out all afternoon, even though a good portion of that involved napping again. We went up to Alicia's opening at the Charleston in Bucktown, and then to Swim Cafe for the Big Yes! Yes! Valentine's Day Show, which was pretty damn fun.

Those who know me well know that I'm rarely at a loss for conversation, but I still feel a little self-conscious around her. This is probably because she's much more outgoing than I've ever been, and because I don't want her to feel intimidated like I know other of my friends have felt around me as they got to know me. I'm getting better, though.

I suppose I should take a picture of her sometime so people can know what she looks like, but until then, suck on this, which has absolutely nothing to do with Laura G.

"Drive"

Posted to the bikewinter listserv:

hnk wrote:
> One last comment-- apparently this is "drive like an asshole" week-- I
> must have missed the announcement on the news or wherever

Due to the extreme popularity of the event, they stopped making the announcements and finally decided to simply make EVERY week "drive like an asshole" week. In a striking display of efficiency, they've renamed the now-daily event simply "drive."

I travel around like a sailing swan...

She knocks me down - in the Naked Raygun sense of the word.

No representin'.

One of the things that annoys me about these ass-freezingly cold winter days is when I'm wearing a great fucking shirt and no one else sees it. No one saw the Slackers shirt I wore today, and it looks good, even if it is a few years old. I couldn't represent. Oh, well. I did upset Shana last week with my "Idiot Son of an Asshole" shirt.

I actually got sweaty on my way home today. A new front fender got put on the bike, and I managed to get chain grease all over the white waffle-shirt I was wearing. It looks cool.

I told her I'd probably spend my night drinking beer and listening to music.

Rohini mentioned today that I looked sad; I told her I was feeling maudlin about my prospects for the evening. My date was postponed and I ended up writing - after reading the articles for - two of my reviews due on Thursday, although at the point I spoke with her I was still on the reading phase. I told her I'd probably spend my night drinking beer and listening to music.

I fell asleep on my arm for so long, there was an impression of my ear and stubble in the skin. It reminds me of the mesh impression of my shirt on Laura G.'s face when she got up to leave last Thursday. Thinking of her smile right now almost makes me want to cry, but I'm not sure from what.

The front fender of my bike broke off yesterday; it probably became too brittle from the cold. It snowed today, 2-3 inches. This means that when I came home at 8:45pm, many of the streets were slushy. Combined with the lack of a front fender, this demonstrated the potential to seriously dirty up my legs. Normally I wouldn't give a shit - stains are memories, after all - but I'm wearing nice enough pants for school. I rode home very slowly, and my MP3 player was giving me trouble - probably because I dropped it - so I had no tunes either. This all put me in a pretty bad mood.

I got home and checked the MP3 player; it seems to be working now, so no warrantee run (yet). That cheered me a bit. I heated up the filet mignon - steak and potatoes! - left over from Sunday, and opened the bottle of Three Floyds' Gumballhead Beer I've been eyeing since my trip to the liquor store Saturday evening. And it was good, and I felt better for the most part. I'd rather be taking Laura G. out for drinks like I was excited to do yesterday. Right now I'm spending my night drinking beer and listening to music.

Was it inevitable? I dunno.

I talked to Laura G.; she's going out of town on a retreat tomorrow, so our date got pushed back to Thursday.

Florists have been located. Fingers have been crossed.

Current forecast: ass-cold with a high probability of positive thinking.

I went out to dinner from school tonight, planning to return and grab my bag and shit and ride home, but we got back after the building had hit lock-down. Now, in the past I could always yank one of the doors open past the lock, but they recently replaced that door. Goddamnit! Ryan was nice enough to give me a ride home and pick me up in the morning in time for my 7am lecture, despite it being early for him. "It'll spur me to get some shit done," he said. Nice guy.

Tish Nihill asked me to see if I have any cases she can display on the OSCE exam she has to administer to the dental students, so I need to look into that tomorrow. I was able to get my hands on two of the three articles I need to review for Thursday.

Laura G. and I are supposed to get drinks tomorrow. Or rather, I offered to take her out for drinks, and she told me tomorrow is good. I have a (tiny) nagging suspicion that it'll turn out for nought, though, but I can hold out hope.

Since my bag and shit got left at school, I really have no work to do, even if I wanted to - and I never do at home. So really, nothing much changed, except I didn't have to freeze my snot on the way home tonight or tomorrow morning.

I'm feeling a bit tired, plus I had a 22oz margarita with dinner, so I think I'm gonna hit the shower and bed so I can be rested for my date tomorrow despite getting up an hour or more before dawn. But first check out this piece by David Rovics which was posted to the Chicago Critical Mass listserv.

Insanity and Beer

The definition of insanity is doing the same thing and expecting a different result. I think I'm driving myself insane over Laura G., and for no good reason. I just wish she'd keep in touch better, since I feel like I'm left hanging. I think I'm just getting impatient because I want to spend more time with her and get to know her better. Shit, I know she's into me, and is just really busy and maybe not the best respondent. Time, time, time, time, time. Repeat. Get that into your fucking head, Darren.

I spent over $130 on beer last night, and then had to go warm up the car during Fast n Loud so it wouldn't freeze (the beer, not the car). Travis's beer froze after leaving it out on the steps for 45 minutes. My beer was safe.

I went to my parents' little dinner party tonight, had some super-succulent pepper-crusted filet mignon. Couldn't imagine a better steak. Kamiar gave me half a case of Special Export since he didn't want to take it home. Cheap beer to hand out at Critical Mass, maybe? We'll see. I don't think I've ever bought beer in cans.

Wardrobe (mal)function.

I got dressed today. It's fucking cold. I put on track pants, and thick socks, and my thickest sneakers. And a wool hat. Except my hat and shoes are blue and my socks are bright orange. Today is the Stupidbowl and the Bears are playing. I'm kind of annoyed that I inadvertently dressed to show support when I have none, but fuck if I'm going to change for fashion's sake.

Books, Vitality, and Decay

I went to my parents' place last night, primarily to do laundry, but also a free dinner wasn't looked down upon. I ended up snagging six books off their bookshelves, to add to my to-be-read shelf - if there's any room left on it. Those six are:

Eric Berne, M.D., Games People Play
George Orwell, 1984
Michael Harrington, The Other America: Poverty in the United States
Thorstein Veblen, The Theory of the Leisure Class: The Challenging Analysis of Social Conduct that Ironically Probes Misused Wealth and Conspicuous Consumption
John Kenneth Galbraith, The Affluent Society
Paul Krugman, The Age of Diminished Expectations

Add that to two the two books I'm currently reading:

Aleksandr I. Solzhenitsyn, The Gulag Archipelago
Richard Dawkins, The Selfish Gene

And consider the rest of the shelf:

Making Stuff and Doing Things: A Collection of DIY Guides to Doing Just About Everything
Lost In Darkness: The Journal of Ordinary Thought, Spring 2002
Chicago Review 51:1/2, Spring 2005
Chicago Review 51:4 & 52:1, Spring 2006
Tri-Quarterly 122
Other Voices 43, Fall/Winter 2005
JRR Tolkien, The Silmarillion
JRR Tolkien, A Tolkien Miscellany
JRR Tolkien, The Book of Lost Tales
Lawrence Pintak, Seeds of Hate: How America's flawed Middle East Policy ignited the jihad
Andre Dubus III, The House of Sand and Fog
Paul Krugman, Peddling Prosperity
William Golding, Lord of the Flies
Thomas Gallager, Paddy's Lament: Ireland 1846-1847, Prelude to Hatred
Barry Polansky, DMD, The Art of the Examination: Why Patient Care Goes Beyond Clinical Correctness
Michael Albert, Parecon: Life After Capitalism
Another Chicago Magazine 46
Douglas Coupland, Life After God
Douglas Coupland, Polaroids From the Dead
Robin Shepard, The Best Breweries and Brewpubs of Illinois: Search For the Perfect Pint
Jon Savage, England's Dreaming: Anarchy, Sex Pistols, Punk Rock, and Beyond
Bill Bryson, A Walk In the Woods: Rediscovering America on the Appalachian Trail
Hatred of Capitalism/ A Semiotext(e) Reader
Brian Morris, Ecology and Anarchism: Essays and Reviews on Contemporary Thought
Clinton Heylin, From the Velvets to the Voidoids: A Pre-Punk History for a Post-Punk World
Insiders' Guide: Off the Beaten Path: Chicago
Frank McCourt, Angela's Ashes
William Cronon, Nature's Metropolis: Chicago and the Great West

Obviously, I like to list and organize things. Be glad I didn't put that in alphabetical order.

Vitality:

Decay:

The Art of Languaging; Keep It Simple, Sugartits.

Finally done with the at times interminable two-day lecture on The Alexander Discipline. Which really isn't as ridiculous as I thought it would be. There were a few good things I drew from it. One of their "principles" was "Keep It Simple, Sir," or "Keep It Simple, Sweetheart." Moody (the lecturer) pointed out that yes, it was a PC version of "Keep It Simple, Stupid." Neal, sitting next to me, promptly asks me, "How about 'Keep It Simple, Sugartits?'" And today's great quote was Moody talking about communicating to patients using "The Art of Languaging." I can't make this stuff up. Seriously, I wish I could, because it's some funny shit.

We got done around 3pm; I spent two hours mapping out every AAO member orthodontist who practices in Chicago. Or rather, just getting a list of them off the clunky-ass website. I still have to map them out on my wall.

I tried to take a nap, since it'll be a 20-hour day for me after I get home from WNUR, but despite feeling tired, no sleep came. Fuck. Tomorrow will be a groggy day, and I think I have a paper due on Thursday morning. I'll find out on Monday exactly what I have to read, I guess.

Smart people underperform when it's too goddamn early.

I'm going through the registration for the American Association of Orthodontists Annual Session in May. There's a course titled "Why Smart People Underperform: Attention, Distraction, And Productivity." This may seem like a good course, but was it really a good idea to schedule it at 8:00am? I sure as hell didn't even look at any of the courses that started before noon.

As it is, I only registered for the free reception. I'll look around and get ideas of equipment and work on my practice vision. And explore Seattle with other ortho nerds, looking to get a feel for the city and outside of some beer.

Right now I'm starving, so dinner, shower, and bed are all calling my name.

Today's gonna be a boring day, I know it. I'm not interested in what i'm doing, I show it.

Well, today was a boring day, I know it. Nothing really new or groundbreaking was presented. I dismissed most of the claims made by our two presenters due to the research I'm familiar with. I fell asleep sitting up and woke up when I almost fell out of my chair sideways.

I have to be back for more by 8am tomorrow. Fuckin' A. Not only does this kill most of my Saturday, but it does a good number on my Friday night as well. It's not like I had any big plans, though. I played solitaire for a bit, read a few things online. I'm yawning now, so I may just drug myself to sleep a little early tonight.

This morning during our morning seminar, I pointed out a clinical need for a procedure to Dr. Grubb, and he proceded to tell the story of how his youngest daughter's boyfriend called to ask permission to marry her. He had told me this story yesterday, and my comment then was to ask why the boyfriend didn't call him by his first name; his response was to ask how many girlfriends whose parents I'd addressed by first name I was still together with. His response to my clinical challenge was to relate a story which ended in him making fun of me. I started referring to him as "John-Boy" and had to define "vindictive" for him later on.

I forgot to eat dinner last night, and I can easily see a repetition tonight.

It's fucking cold. My heat is still staying off, but I'm sitting next to my space heater. I'm doing OK, but I'm loath to go out anywhere.

I wrote this Wednesday night between showering and falling asleep. I don't know what it's worth.

"I kissed you," she pointed out.
When her arms went around me
in the dead night
drawing me from my excited sleep
making me the little spoon
the feeling was mutual.
I think.
A physical display of affection.
In retrospect
how large a role did lonely longing play
in her part or mine?
And why has she disappeared
after a week of fun and flirting?

This doesn't really apply right now, but I had it written down and felt something should be done with it.

The smell of her lingering on my shirt

This is kind of pathetic, but it worked out well for me. After I told myself I'd wait for Laura G. to call me, I was looking at her myspace page and she'd written something about feeling lonely and whatnot, so I gave her a call. She called me back while running errands in her pajamas, and ended up coming over. She was tired as hell since she's been working like crazy. She said she was about to fall over, and I said that was no problem, just fall in my direction.

We sat on the couch and talked and flirted. She called me "love" and "honey" in such a way that I barely caught them. She burped loudly while drinking beer. We kissed some. She asked me to pet her. We fell asleep, entangled on the couch listening to music, and then she had to go home.

I know I'm probably setting myself up for disappointment, but when I think of how I feel - and how good she looked sitting on my couch in old sweats with her hood over her head, and how she'd gently grab onto the front of my shirt when we were laying on the couch, and her dimpled smile, and the brightness of her green eyes, the smell of her lingering on my shirt - I don't care.

A few weeks ago, Liv told me to not worry about anything like that, since it won't really change how things work out. She was right; the fact that I've stopped expecting anything to really happen over the last few weeks actually made it easier for me to relax and be myself tonight. It was good.

Patience, grasshopper.

Now that I think about it, I have enough free time and definitely enough work to do to keep me busy most of the time that I don't have social plans in the works. Rather than feel sorry for myself and pine over Laura G. like I did for a bit last week, I can spend the time and get shit done. Getting myself busy has always worked well for me in the past. I know there's an element of escapism to it, but at least in this case the escapism is at loggerheads with my procrastination. It'll feel good to have less shit hanging over my head anyway.

Speaking of Liv, she sent me photos of Eszti's puppies today. Fuck, I wish I could go and just watch them right now.

I have an all-day lecture tomorrow and Saturday. It should prove educational, informative, boring, dogmatic, and ridiculous, I suspect. I mean, Hell, it's called "The Alexander Discipline" and it's being presented by two of the Drs. Alexander (of many). Some of their principles rub me the wrong way already, such as their focus on centric relation, having "mandibular incisors balanced on basal bone," and (I think) feeling wisdom tooth extraction aids retention. Non-dentists (or even non-orthodontists) will probably not understand why I feel so, but those positions have the weight of history behind them, with absolutely no quality research in support. And people have come to fighting over them. Crazy, I know. I'm obviously in the skeptic/"that's bullshit!" camp.

Ok, I just did some text message flirting, and now I must go to sleep or I will be super-deadsville tomorrow.

Down mitts and neoprene liners were not enough to protect me.

It was ass-tits cold today and it's only supposed to get colder. Although, to think of it, most of it was the wind, since I rode home with a tailwind and was feeling awesome, not hot, not cold, just right, and not having to exert myself too much either. This morning, though, icy fucking headwind. Bitter. Argh. Down mitts and neoprene liners were not enough to protect me. This is life. Live it.

Quote from Howard K:

Anyways, one [thing] that comes to mind is something I've noticed in my rush hour travels along the "Hipster Highway"- seeing people stuffing a big heavy gym bag into their SUV in the morning. Can you imagine sitting in traffic for however long to get to/from work and then spending an extra 90 minutes and a few thousand dollars a year to get your exercise?
Another thing that is great about BikeWinter is that it's theoretically possible to control the amount you sweat by undoing zippers. I get completely drenched in the summertime, just from looking at my bike.
And lastly, is it my imagination or do cars give you more respect than in the summertime? Or maybe they are just driving slower because they're dreading having to leave the car when they arrive at their destination?
Or maybe the drivers aren't talking on their cell phones because they don't want to take their gloves off . . .
Howard

I had a not-too-busy day, although I was occupied enough to not even check my email until 5:30pm. I ran into Dana just after I finished my essential tasks, before I could start any long-term reading, and we ended up talking and going to the Hawk to get dinner. Fun times.

I can't believe it's 9:30 already; I just got home. Actually, when I consider my tiredness, yes I can.

Maybe now I can get some real work done

Another day of procrastination is nearly done. No school reading done, despite the need for progress in both my board review and the fact that I have a mini-lit review due for my orthodontic-periodontic course next week. I'm meeting with my thesis advisor Thursday to sidestep any copyright issues associated with my questionnaire, which means tomorrow I'll have to dig through the stack of research papers on my desk to find the two or three which yielded most of the questions I'm planning on asking.

Erick, the Ormco rep, asked me if I were married, since I was giving Derek (good) advice on dealing with his wife. I said no, I've just learned from past mistakes.

The Lawrence Arms are playing out in West Dundee on March 16. I already have a ticket to see Anti-Flag at the Metro that night, which is good, because otherwise I would end up battling outbound Friday rush hour traffic for about the same amount of fun.

Scooter School opened up on April 27th. I'm going to have to ditch ortho school for that. Worth it. I just need to get my ass to the DMV in the next three months to get my permit, so I can take the class and (hopefully) the licensure exam as well.

I finished reading the novel I bought last week. Maybe now I won't be so distracted and I can get some real work done.

God grant me the balls...

The most exciting thing that happened to me today was falling over backward in a plushly upholstered office chair in a conference room while the rest of my class was getting ready to do our first board-review session.

I think I laughed harder than anyone else.

I think I'm setting myself up to get knocked down again by Laura G. God grant me the balls to say what I need to when I see her next.

I'm going to bed early in an attempt to stop riding the knife-edge of exhaustion I've been on recently.

I'm sure you'll learn to dance and drink and dream, but you might still feel lost

I should have learned from the past and brought something substantial to read to the Loved Ones show tonight. All I had with was Friday's Derailleur, which I read in about five minutes. The Bomb record that was playing between sets was better than the first band, and Jeff Dean, coincidentally, was the guitarist for the next band, Four Star Alarm.

Some kid in a NOFX T-shirt was showing off his Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle tattoo. I wonder how he'll feel about that in ten years?

The Loved Ones put on a good set, but despite having only one full length out, they shy away from their previous EP live. Still a ton of fun. They finally added a second guitar player so Dave can riff. One of the best things about that band is Dave's ability to talk shit from the stage. That's what makes a good show, the shit you won't hear on record. I was able to sing and dance and rock out, and it was good.

My MP3 player battery went dead from the cold in the car, so I listened to NPR on the way home and the guy was just going over Iraq war news and making such tongue-in-cheek comments, it was entertaining and sad, since the news was all true.

I've been blogging so much lately that I feel I have nothing to say when I talk to people. Of course that's bullshit, and the only reason I think that is because I still get struck stupid when I talk to Laura G. I've been sleeping all weekend and feel like I can't think straight.

Speaking of Laura G., she texted me last night: "Hey. Whats up love?" That, combined with her broaching that she was free on this coming Thursday or Saturday when I talked with her, leads me to believe she's feeling into me. Of course, as many of my friends will no doubt attest, I'm a sucker for pretty girls who talk nice to me. Anyway, she said she'd give me a call, and I suavely replied, "Please do." I couldn't bring myself to tell her how I felt about plans breaking last week. Well, I'll do it in person, or if there's a third strike this week, over the phone, and let the chips fall.

I think I said something to Ryan on Thursday about ideational and sensate societies, and I'd like to expound upon it, but right now I want to get on my way to bed.