A friend of mine admitted herself to the psychiatric ward of a local hospital.

She is severely depressed over a recent breakup and was afraid that she would attempt to harm herself; she has a history of attempted suicide. We visited her about 12 hours after she was admitted, and she seems to be doing much better. I am very, very glad that she took this step, and I know it was a scary thing for her to do. It's all too easy to collapse into yourself when you're in the grips of serious depression. It's like mental hydrophobia -- the things that will help you are the last things you're inclined to do; the most harmful actions seem most appealing.

My housemate /jen works at the hospital where the friend was admitted. She later told me of a related incident. A man came into the hospital and approached the information desk; he said something like "Can you tell me where the psych ward is? I need to check myself in." The on-duty nurse politely directed him up to the third floor. But while the man and his companions were waiting at the elevator, a nurses assistant, who was on break nearby, openly mocked him to her friends: "Hi! I've gone crazy, and I need to go to the nuthouse!"

The guy wasn't even close to being out of earshot. /jen said one of the nurses called the assistant on the carpet for her utterly callous and totally inappropriate comments ... but damn. What kind of a jackass do you have to be to think that mocking anyone's condition is an appropriate way for a caregiver to behave in his or her workplace? How is ridicule supposed to encourage people to seek treatment?

It makes me sad that hospitals are so hard up for nursing help that disrespectful, irresponsible, uncaring people like that can still keep their jobs ... while meanwhile far more competent, humane folks in other sectors remain unemployed in this frigid job market.

On a probably-unrelated note, Braunbeck shaved off all his hair right down to the scalp today.

This is much cause for household astonishment, because he's had long, curly hair for over 20 years and until now has steadfastly refused to even get it cut short. Also, it's very, very cold out, and not exactly baldness weather.

I think he was concerned about having anything but a long, shaggy 'do because he was in a pretty bad automobile wreck when he was a teenager and received head lacerations. He was afraid he had a lumpy, misshapen skull or lots of scars.

As it turns out, his skull is nicely shaped and quite symmetrical, and the only scar he's got left was already visible on his forehead.

So, if you see him, be sure to openly admire the curve of his cranium, the gleam of his scalp. Bald men are teh sexxxy, and he needs to be reminded of this ....

I am sorry in advance if this daylog might not be interesting to someone, but this site is called "Everyting" and I think perhaps this is a fitting place to inlcude my Uncle Bill in the scope of "Everything"

My Uncle Bill - has been like a father to me for the past 20 yeras and is one of just a few people in this world that I truely love. He passed away this morning, and while I'm still a bit numb - I've yet to break down and cry but I think that's because I haven't quite accepted it yet. Or it may be because I've been expecting it for almost 18 years. He was given little chance to live 18 years ago - he had some sort of kink in his artery in his neck and could die at any moment then. So it was then I first had to learn to think about losing him... but he went on just fine. Then about 8 years ago he had a triple bypass, and at that time he was in such poor health from clogged arteries that again I had to learn to accept that I'd have to lose him.

Last summer when they discovered cancer and gave him 6 months to live, I really didn't take it too seriously I guess because I'd long since stopped believing he was going to die. I spent alot of time with him though because I didn't know how much time I had left with him. While he'd lost at least 50 lbs he was still doing fine 9 months after they'd given him 6 months to live. He'd undergone all the normal things one goes through with cancer, but the treatments were killing him so he stopped.

In January he was offered one of only two slots in a new type of experimental treatment that was doing very well with those who had undergone the treatment. So I had hope - just a bit of hope anyhow. Then when undergoing the exams for this treatment they found out his cancer was too widespread and said they needed to save the slot for someone who had a chance. (they did'nt say this exactly but that's what it came down to) Bill was talking and walking and doing well that week, days later he had a massive stroke and the last few times I'd seen him he looked like a holucaust survivor, it was incredibly tough to see him like that, and it really wasn't how I had wanted to see him but that's how it worked out anyhow.

Well I'd like to share a bit of history about my Uncle Bill.

He was a war hero, from the 'forgotten war' - the Korean War. He had seven children, all of whom turned out very well. He was a Southern Baptist minister and had his own church in Texas, Ohio and lastly in Spokane Washington. He knew the bible inside and out - and was not the kind of Christian to judge other religions. He worked in the HVAC (heating and air conditioning trade) and owned his own HVAC company here in Spokane for many years.

He was the kind of guy who never had a bad word to say about anyone, and would offer anyone a helping hand when they needed one. From the day my son was born he treated him like his grandson (he was really...) He was the kind of dad who was always there for his kids - and all of them have always treated him with the utmost respect. He was the kind of guy who could fix anything, and build anything. I remember when I was really young "helping" him build the A-Frame the day Mt. St Helens erupted, the A-Frame his family of 9 were to live in till he could get their huge log cabin was built.

I have alot to share about him and his life that I think is worth including on "Everything" but this is a tad hard to discuss so I'll amend my post a bit later with more interesting informative information about him and also the new experiemental treatment he was to undergo I think that may be of interest here.
I've been thinking a lot lately about the ramifications of being bi. It's not something that generally I contemplate much, except when teasing the homophobic or deciding to make a point in speech class. But recently I've felt like I should come out to my parents... but I haven't been able to.

I've come out now to at least a few hundred people, most of them all at one time. The National Student Leadership Conference.... nearly all of us Law and Ad folk gathered at an activity called Over The Line, I believe.... it started out with simple enough statements, like "I am x years old" or "I am blank religion". Those who agreed crossed the line, those who didn't remained on the same side.

Then the questions started getting more serious. Things about abuse, views on current issues.... the most memorable for me.... "I believe that everyone is entitled to equal rights, even homosexuals"... less than half the group crossed for that.

And finally- "I am a homosexual or bisexual." Only three people moved at the remark, at least that I could see. The first, a rather pretty brunette, crossed over quickly but did not turn to face those who did not follow. The second, a boy I'd seen occasionally at social events but never really talked to, went to stand on the line- bi.

The third was me. Walking a few steps has never been so difficult. When the words "Go back" finally came, I could barely stand, clinging to the arms of my two fellow Lions. That night was the night before the trial, and it certainly did nothing to improve my performance that I spent three hours sobbing afterwards.

Since then, things have become far less stressful. But there is a reaction from others I have come to expect, that moment of hesitancy, the muttered "Oh, right, I don't have a problem with that", the awkward "I have a few friends that are... homosexual."

Tis amusing, really. But it is no wonder that I still can't bring myself to come out to my parents...
It's going to be a good day.

I'm going to touch the face of God
I'm going to gather the furies of hell
I'm going to break a childs dreams
I'm going to learn the story of the tornado, that swam like a statue of Thomas Jefferson!

I'm exploring the history of South Africa, colored with, well, color and the problems caused thereby. Is apartheid the natural economic evolution of Slavery after it has ceased to be a viable economic basis? What parallels exist between the United States before 1860 and South Africa?

I finished Fear and Lothing in Las Vegas. As your attorney I advise you to pick up a copy under an assumed name. Now onto Lord of the Rings! (Or possibly, The Best and the Brightest)

Highlander

He came to the party. I found myself sitting on the back porch trying to plan an escape for when things got hectic. I lit a cigrette and cooked the eye that was staring down at it. Shit. That fucking hurt.

So... How did I get in this mess? Well the answer, inevitably, don't date people. I used to think there was a clause to that sentence: Don't date people who...

-have boyfriends in jail. -procreated more than once. -lift weights.

No, and no again, I understand that there is no novel long enough to secure that sentence.

They call him Highlander, and everyone was telling me to hide. He thinks I like his girlfriend, but let me tell you how joyous I was the day I boke it off with her. He should be thanking me for freeing her up. But rationality must never have been mastered by his particular species. After I came back in, he walked in the room and grabbed a bottle of rum off the table.

"Guess whoever's this was is hit. Oh yeah, and you're gonna fuckin' die little man." He points to me, in case anyone was confused, and storms off to find his "bitch".

The hottest girl in the room looked up from her game of pool and said, "That guy's scary."

Yes, Michelle, that guy is scary to big tall street people like me, nevermind tight little vixens with beautiful voices. He came back in after a minute. He had his tree climbing ninja claw on backwards(spikes out) and carried a sword behind his back.

"I don't know why you're still in the room." He put his hand on the edge of the table and used the claw to steady his blade. He took a shot at the eight ball and turned away from my corner.

People probably thought that he gave me the mark under my eye. Now I knew they were afraid to ask. I left. Michelle followed me.

"You need a ride?" she asked.

"Sure."

In the driveway a stranger came out of the shadows.

"Hey! You the guy Highlander's tryin to kill?"

It was Kevin. Oh thank Christ. It was Didn't-we-grow-up-together Kevin. Thank the football playing gods of bodygaurds, Kevin is HUGE. Huge like Rhino!!! He's Now-I-can-stay-and-party-cuz-this-huge-guy-got-my-back huge.

"Shit man, it's me, Shane."

"What?! Shane? Yo, Highlander's my buddy. Lemme talk to him for ya'."

It's my birthday again. Always seems to happen around this time of the year.

I'm getting older, hopefully wiser, and definately more cynical, which is a bad thing. Of course, I've got my children to remind me of the important things.

"So, Dad, why do people make such a big deal about having money?"

"Well...", I paused, trying to put the worries of food, clothing and shelter into terms a seven year old could understand, "...money makes the world go 'round."

"But Dad, Love makes the world go around!"

Thank you son, for reminding me of that which I have tried to teach you.

One of the great guiding principles in the founding of the democratic society we live in today, is that a sufficiently educated populace is capable of governing itself.

Education for everyone was deemed essential by Jefferson, Adams, Franklin, Lee and others, because only with knowledge can tyranny be overcome. In the 18th century, that "tyranny" was British rule in the New World.

Osama bin Laden is, by all accounts, a highly educated man. A man who views the world through a bias set by his personal religious beliefs. This does not make him a "madman" or an "evil" man, it makes him a man who sees us differently than we see ourselves. It makes him a man that most of us, have no context within which to understand his actions.

a CAUTIONARY Note here:

I do not condone or in any way agree with Osama bin Laden's lack of tolerance for other people. In fact I find him reprehensible beyond any society's ability to tolerate. He does deserve to be held accountable for his actions, because he has not taken any action without full understanding of the consequences for his "enemies" and has no respect for anyone's rights beyond the strict interpretation of Islam.

Making use of the vast amount of information now available to me through all media, I have absorbed the pros, cons, opinions, analysis and vitriolic statements from all sides ...and have formed my own "educated" opinion. The process has been long and the results are complex in their derivation. I am not sure that I can provide a direct logical line of reasoning for any of my thoughts.

  • Islam is not a "religion" like Catholicism. It is not being a Baptist, or a good member of The Church of Christ. Islam is a life encompassing religious based philosophy that dictates every action, reaction, decision and point of moral tolerance, in the life of those who adhere to it.
  • Osama's actions are about Islam.
  • Bush's (our) reaction is about retribution.
  • Bush's (our) further actions are about energy.
  • Bush's (our) actions beyond Afghanistan are about fear.
  • Bush's (our) actions toward Saddam are about energy.
  • We have become, through the public actions of our leaders, the very tyrant we have been accused of being.
  • An attack on Saddam is NOT an attack on Osama ...in fact it may be just what Osama wants! Iraq's socialist dictatorship is not the Islam he supports, and he only fights us instead of Saddam because he perceives us as the larger threat. He fought the Russians in Afghanistan for the same reason; their incursion into that country represented a large threat to Islam.
  • Osama is intelligent enough to know how to use his enemies against one another.
  • A war against Iraq is a "no win" situation and has no basis in any tolerant morality. Perhaps we should be recruiting Saddam to use his armies and his non-existent "weapons of mass destruction" to help us quell the threat to the world, represented by Osama.
  • Bush's (our) actions in the Middle East, are about Islam.
The first settlers, and many immigrants thereafter, "fled to" or were "sent to" the New World because they created unrest where they were by not adhering to the prevailing religious views. We, as a people, believe in the separation of Church and State. Our country, our freedoms, our way of life is predicated on the "right" of every person to make his own choices regarding God. We are rightly proud of this distinction in our culture ...although we often go overboard with it... but it is extremely naive of us to believe for one minute that what is right for us, is right for everyone else ...that's what we fought against to begin with, wasn't it?

"We fight to defend our way of life".

Just because we consider religion to be a non-government issue, does not mean that anyone else in the world does. The New World is in fact one of, if not the first place where such an arrangement was even considered, much less implemented.

Is it right for everyone? Our immigration figures would suggest it is part of a pretty attractive package.

Is it right for us to impose it upon others? Is it right for us to pollute another culture by ignoring the differences in our systems? or refusing to consider that our way of life might not be what everyone else wants? Have we in fact, attacked Islam in ignorance?

This saber rattling against Saddam will go bad for us. Many will die ...including some of us. This may be the moment it all spins out of control...

I don't know what to do.

I was safer in my ignorance.

  • An attack against Saddam is an attack against a socialist dictator who rules his people with fear and military power.
  • An attack against Iraq is an attack against Islam.
  • Osama does not care whether we understand him or not. He fights for Islam. He will bring that battle to our streets if we continue our aggression against Islam.
If I understand this...

If I have enough information to deduce and reason the sense of this ...the non-sense of this...

How am I to believe that our leaders remain ignorant to what they are really doing?

They cannot possibly be that right ...and righteousness is so unbecoming.

When will we be asked to disarm?

And who will do the asking?

filling in the blanks... been gone a while and i just want to make certain these fall on the right days.

i hate albuquerque. i hate gangstees. i hate forgetting my knife... because there are some days you only realise people are flammable after they flee.

so no shit, there i was, walking down the road, when suddenly this guy tries to rape me...runs up behind me, and in a totally ineffective moron-fu maneuver, grabs me by the boobs and the crotch...so i reached for my trusty jackknife, with a shout of "and now is the time on sprockets when we kill you in the face with death!" and then i realised i had no jackknife. ooh, pisspoor day to wear the other jacket. and the thought that goes through my head is: "great, i'm gonna get raped in a well-lit alley forty metres from my house. well, most accidents happen close to home..." so, feeling like an utter fool under my fifty pounds of backpack, but still standing, startlingly enough, i resort to the defense of the immovable object. i weigh close to two hundred pounds with my current assortment of gear and books, and i'm five foot one. i can be bent, spindled, and mutilated with the application of sufficient kung-fu, but unless i want to move, or you hit me with a tank, i'm not going anywhere. and, so firmly affixed, i unleash a gory yell for help that turns my skin a fairer shade of pale...

and he leaps back and runs like a man chased by the immortal legions of hell, which if my brother had been home, he might have been...

and nothing happens. not a ding in the calm of the urban night. i shit you not. i stand in the cold, immediately in front of someone's front door, watching them watch tv through the blinds for five minutes while i speculate about summoning the boys in blue, before finally heading off to the mailbox, which i know damn well contains 128mb of ram, all for me. as i slink out of the alley, sprained back and all, i hear someone announce they're going to take out the trash, and i watch them do so, as i filter my mail. i am faintly astonished at the utter lack of response, once again proving that people suck, and yelling any number of things, 'help', 'rape', and 'get off me, fucker', among them, is an utterly useless exercise in inviting a sore throat.

for once i'm glad i'm the only one who noticed...

Log in or registerto write something here or to contact authors.