Nothing Like Pain to Inspire a Blog Post

In roughly two minutes the time will be {ding} 3:00 AM. It has been only 4 months since the last time I had a post like this. I believe it was Christmas eve when I awoke in the middle of the night with some malady or other that prevented sleep. It has happened once again. Only this time, medicine has now all but eliminated any pain and discomfiture. I probably ought to sleep for the remaining 3 hours before my usual wake up time, but I've already turned my computer on and opened this page and started typing.
It was midnight-thirty when I first looked at the time after waking up with a horrible (pronounced "har-uh-bull") headache. Unlike any head pain I have ever experienced before. Centralized to the back of my head, just above my neck. Cerebellum area, if you are so inclined and oriented. The pain was bad, but I remained in a sleep-like state for about an hour. Sometime after 1:30 I was fully awake.
I debated in my head for several minutes if this was an ER type headache or not. I don't know much about headaches, or medical stuff in general, but I know that headaches sometimes are indicators of some serious problems. Add in the fact that this one came on suddenly, woke me up, and didn't have any obvious influencer (as in a cartoonish mallet to the head), and you've got the recipe for me being terrified that I'm about to pick up a hospital bill for 2 grand to get my brain scanned. I rationalized that if it got to the point of going to the hospital then I would go, after all, it is better to be in debt than to be interred.
I debated a bit and then took some Aleve. Another hour of agony left me wondering if it was then time to go to the ER. I put some socks on in preparation of going. I also texted Muffin Man because he lives in Hawaii and it was only evening time for him. He replied, but couldn't talk because he was out running the "Hawaii Five-O," a local charity 5k run. Even though he was in a charity run he still returned my text message, that's friendship! I offered some words of encouragement to get him through the mid-run doldrums and then decided I'd check out Facebook.
I read a few comments, made a few comments, and then decided to write this post. Somewhere in that process the pain in my head finally began to dissipate. A warm, almost soothing sensation has taken its place. Also, whereas sleep had fled my eyes for the duration of the pain, it has now returned. Since I have no real message to convey here, and the pain that was preventing sleep is now over, I suppose I will go back to bed.
To quote a classic, "it's too late to say good night, so Good Mornin'!"

Ajax and Taylor, Sitting in a Tree...

You all know how much I love to live my life according to nursery rhymes and other types of rhymes (such as commercial jingles), so in the spirit of that, I must live up to this one:
Ajax and Taylor, sitting in a tree, k-i-s-s-i-n-g (though we have never sat in a tree together),
first comes love (check!),
then comes marriage (this is the one we are going to discuss)...
Well, you know the rest. We have accomplished the love part of the rhyme, it is on to the "then comes marriage" part. We are getting married in July. The 19th to be exact. We are both very excited.
We both feel like there has been some divine guidance in our meeting and we are both very happy that we have conducted ourselves as we have to be full beneficiaries of that guidance. Our first date was February 26th, and the formal proposal (complete with bestowal of ring) happened on April 21st. Fast? Perhaps. A year or so ago I would have said it was fast. Four months ago I would have said "not me, boy!" But I hadn't met Taylor. It is one of those situations that you just don't know until you are there. And I am there.
I've never been so comfortable or happy with someone as I am with Taylor, and right from the start. The first night we met was in a group and I was declaring my supremacy over everyone because I was the oldest. Something I often do when this is the case. Later, I noticed a walker, not a person adept at slowly maneuvering their body, but a metal device designed to assist such a person in their transportation endeavors. I shouted to the group "Whose walker is this?" Just as I did the words "probably mine because I'm so old" came to mind. Simultaneously "probably yours because you are so old" was shouted back by Taylor. I had already taken an interest in her from the time we had been around each other that evening, but this sealed it for me. Her quick, witty retort was all I needed to hear.
I am in love with her. I am filled with gratitude and joy every time I get to be with her.

This and/or That

A few weeks ago I was watching something, ah yes! it was 21 Jump Street. Taylor mentioned her fascination with the old television program and I professed a personal interest in it as well. It is one of our many uniting interests. I remember one summer, perhaps in 1991, I don't know, 21 Jump Street was on every morning for two hours. My brother and I ritualistically watched the show before heading out into the yard to enjoy summer vacation. What a fantastic show.

For those of you not familiar with it, the premise of the show is a group of young looking police officers who work undercover in high schools. It might happen in real life, but never with as much cool and style as on the show. Did I mention Johnny Depp plays one of the officers? And Jerry Seinfeld's TV dad plays his training officer in the pilot episode! Gold! Mr. X from the X-Files is part of the cast as well, all around perfection. If you want a procedurally accurate police show, stay away from television, those don't exist. But if you want melodrama dripping from every bit of dialogue and every trend setting article of clothing this is your show.

The whole point of mentioning this was to tell you about an idea that an episode of 21 Jump Street gave me. It didn't actually give me the idea, I generated the idea based on something that was said on the show in conjunction with my own creativity and wit. You see, one of the characters expressed that all he wanted was to see justice done. To which my brain responded with a scene where a police officer leads a man in handcuffs to a door. On the large glass window of the door the following is stenciled "Justice Howard H. Dunn." The caption on the scene is the cuffed man saying "This isn't what I meant when I said I wanted to see justice done."

I thought it was pretty clever and humorous. But that is how I view most things I say and think. I just can't help it.

Cue the Tip-toeing Cartoon Villain Music

I am going to type this up really fast. I have somewhere to be tonight. It rained today, after it snowed, so it was kind of slushy and slippery. As Lane and I headed out for lunch, I was walking closer to the building where it wasn't so slushy, and he commented "it is slippery." I said it wasn't slippery where I was walking, so he walked over towards the side, and I walked out further from the building. I then said "it is slippery." Perhaps there was an emphasis on the word "is" when I said it, as though it were in italics, but maybe I didn't say it any differently than Lane. With the rain coming down, however lightly it may have been, my hood went up. I have a very lightweight hood that rolls up into the collar of the coat. It is a winter coat and does a fine job at keeping me dry and warm. The hood is too flimsy to be much good in any kind of wind, or while walking with any swiftness, which is my preferred mode of walking. When I was at school it was always windy and I was always walking with a swiftness, yes, a swiftness, so my hood would bounce around and blow away from covering my head whenever I tried to use it, so I stopped trying. Unless it was really raining, in which case I would use the hood and just hold it down in the front, pinched between index finger and thumb. I think it is ridiculous to have to hold a hood. If I wanted to hold something I'd buy an umbrella. And if I could remember to buy an umbrella I wouldn't have to hold my hood. Vicious circle, I know. The reason I mention this is because of a thought that came to mind a few days ago. I went with my girlfriend, Taylor (codename for her in this blog), and another friend to see Brian Regan perform his comedy routine in Boston. Boston, MA in case you were wondering. Brian Regan is hilarious. After the show I suppose I was in a comedic observation type of mood so I was doing my best to keep the laughs coming as we were headed back to the car. There was a woman at the bottom of the stairs next to the exit door, ushering us out into a back alley filled with boxes of empty beer bottles and a mop bucket. I remember making some comment about the situation, thinking it to be very clever and humorous, but I can't seem to recall it right now. It makes no difference as that wasn't the joke I wanted to retell here in hopes of getting more laughs. Also, I don't have time, I have somewhere to be tonight. Anyway, it was raining. We were pushed out into the alley and into the rain. I pulled my hood up and it did the bouncing routine so that I had to hold it if I wanted the protection. And that is when I realized that I was like a cartoon villain. And I said as much to Taylor, recounting my many experiences of fighting my hood while leaving work for lunch over the last few months. I have to keep the hood pulled down on my head so that I can stay dry, but as I do this I lose all ability to see anything but the ground several feet in front of me. Generally, this is fine, but not when it comes time to cross the street. When I reach a crossing point I have to A) throw back the hood in some heroic fashion in order to scan the roadway, or B) keep the hood pulled down and do a full body turn in each direction I want to look, not unlike Batman in his stiff-necked Batman cowl. It's called a cowl, right? For some reason, one that escapes me now (perhaps that overwhelming desire to mimic Brian Regan's joke making ability, which I felt leaving the theater?), I thought that the image of me throwing back the hood to look both ways at the crosswalk, and then covering my head again was reminiscent of cartoon villains. As I think about it now, it is more like when someone in a cartoon, or campy movie, is trying to sneak past someone else under cover of a ridiculously large and noticeable object. At the time i suggested "cartoon villain" and enacted a tiptoeing type walk with my hood pulled over my eyes, then I'd stop, throw the hood back and look around, re-cover my head and tiptoe further along the sidewalk. The Flintstones tinkling toes sound came to mind. Which makes me think now that the similarity is more like the cartoon character who hides under a rock and less like the cartoon villain who is creeping around. Well, I don't know anymore, and like I said, I have somewhere to be tonight.