Raw beef with questionable yellow bits.

Take That!

I just told a lady on the phone at a medical office that she sounded mean. It felt good.  She did sound mean, and I did not deserve to be spoken to with a gruff voice.

New Project: A 1978 Honda CX500E

Bought this trashed 1978 CX. It appears to have been stolen probably in 1979, then dumped at a NYC river (gross back then). The registration stickers say 1979. The odometer states only about 1400 miles. Washed off construction dust (from sitting in the garage of a building undergoing renovation).

It smells like a sewer.

The cooling liquid is bright green and the oil came out pretty clean.

The rubber hoses had to be peeled off everything. Used a thin screwdriver. And now trying to get the rear engine cover unstuck. I want to get the stator from it and use it in my 81 CX500c. Either that or just use this experience for when the 81 engine comes off.

Here are some images for posterity:

A New Bed

Before this year, I had never purchased a brand new bed for myself. At the age of 39 and having been diagnosed with a B12 deficiency requiring monthly injections for the rest of my life and fibromyalgia, the quality of my sleep should be of paramount importance. In fact, fibromyalgia pain often causes sleep disturbances, and poor sleep exacerbates fibromyalgia.

I remember being 5 years old and having trouble sleeping.

There have been occasional nights where sleep has been restful, usually after a night out of drinking. In college I remember sleeping well on days playing field hockey for 2 and a half hours. I might run for a half hour these days and lift weights in the gym, but that does little for sleep quality.

Recently, my upper back started cracking abnormally. A chiropractor had pointed out two points in the cervix, the second or third bone below the skull and another at the base of the cervix, where there were subluxations, or misaligned vertebrae. And one was probably responsible for the other. I guessed the lower one caused the upper one.

I used to go to the chiropractor whenever my neck would be stiff so that he could align my spine and make the crick in my neck go away. But when the cracking started to get more frequent, I stopped going. Now all I have to do is pull my shoulders back to make my upper back sound like cracking knuckles.

Then I discovered that if I placed a skinny stuffed animal, a fish, under my C7, near the bottom of the cervix, the stiffness in my neck would go away – instantly. Amazing.

It's been about 2 years now that I've slept with this fish under my C7. And when the fish loses its place, I feel pain in my neck and trapezius. Put the fish back, the pain goes away.

I can't keep sleeping with a stuffed animal under my back.

Finally, I decided to buy myself a brand new bed. Not just any bed. It had to be perfect. I'm like the princess who slept on 17 mattresses over a pea and felt the pea. (Was it 17?)

I also don't want to put any more plastic products in landfills. Besides, Tempurpedic mattresses are too warm after a while. Everything else in that price range is made with foam in addition to wood and metal.

Then I lied down on a horsehair bed. Oh my goodness. It was a Savoir bed. It's expensive. Hand made. All natural materials. Yet it's completely compostable. In reality, the compostable nature of these beds don't really matter anyway, since they are supposed to last a lifetime. Okay, so after I'm dead, it's good the bed is compostable. The bed I considered at Savoir was about $11,000. Holy s***.

Then one day, being walked to my motorcycle after a date, we passed by another mattress stores. Hästens. Holy cow. Another horsehair bed company. We go in. We lie down on mattresses. My body tingled.

At this point in time, my body was exhausted. My sleep was getting worse and worse, probably because the mattress I was sleeping on was too old and needed to go. (Unfortunately, another foam-top bed for Mother Earth.) My back was in more pain and I could feel the fibromyalgia symptoms – which I had learned to overcome – were starting to creep back into my joints. Daily exercise wasn't enough. I needed a new bed. But I didn't want one made with foam.

Hästens makes a model that is more affordable that I like, and they offer financing. It's a full size, which is a tiny bit smaller than what I had before, but I don't care. It's just me anyway.

I bit the bullet, signed the financing papers, and picked a fabric.

(Funny thing about the Hästens store in New York is that it's right next door to Savoir.)

Earlier today, May 27, 2011, the bed arrived with white glove service. Two guys came in, unpacked the boxes, set up the bed, and took the old one away. Now, I'm going to sleep on it. I can't wait.

Good night. :)

It just fits.

Review of Circus Circus, Reno, Nevada

Check-in was fast and easy. Front desk people were nice. Room was clean and didn't smell like cigarettes. In fact the casino on a whole didn't smell like cigarettes, though there were people smoking at the slots. Towels weren't soft, but they were clean. The bathroom wallpaper was peeling and the light was obnoxiously buzzing and bright. The bathroom had a vinyl floor.

The worst part was the styrofoam cups and "disposable" plastic coffee filters. Obviously no regard for the excess garbage in the US or for the environment.

The best part of Circus Circus...well, there were 2 parts that totally rocked: The poker room, which was just a sectioned off portion of the casino close to Keno and blackjack tables, was very welcoming. With a minimum bet of only $2 and staff that was very friendly and helpful, I played my first game of Texas Hold 'Em there and am so glad about it. I didn't play a tournament there, but the next time I played Texas Hold 'Em, it was a tournament. The experience at Circus Circus totally made it worth it. The second thing that totally rocked was the midway. It was so fun! And the games were inexpensive to play. Obviously there for the kids, but so fun. There were live acts that performed on stage and above on trapeze.

Circus Circus is at the northern end of the tract of casinos in Reno. It's attached to the Silver Legacy and ElDorado. We really enjoyed our stay and would consider it again.

B12 Deficiency

Often overlooked in the medical field, vitamin B12 is a necessary nutrient responsible for synthesizing red blood cells and getting oxygen to the body.

I've had a vitamin B12 deficiency for nearly half my life. I tested low for B12 at the age of 20, and despite different efforts to heal, my body refuses to hold onto it. As an avid meat eater, there should be no reason why I should lack the vitamin in my system. I have the intrinsic factor necessary for my stomach to absorb B12. For some reason, no matter how much I eat, my body refuses to utilize it properly. Over time, my body rejects it. Hence, I must take injections to stay healthy and active. Pills don't work for me.

Vitamin B12 comes from animal sources including some bacteria. It's a complex molecule with a molecule of cobalt as its center. Scientists have found the absorption process of B12 to be complex. So, there are many steps in the process where failure may occur.

Some symptoms of low-B12 has to do with the nervous system. I know my B12 is low when my hands and feet are burning hot, or if my body feels certain pains. Lately, I'm discovering that I have allergies.

To test and see if low B12 was cause for post nasal drip, I waited several weeks to make sure these allergies were actual allergies, and not an effect of work-related stress. I was sneezing constantly while at home. After my job got quiet and I was able to relax, the runny nose and sneezing was still happening. This morning, I took an injection.

Lo and behold, the sniffling and sneezing stopped. Could B12 injections be a prevention of allergies?

Everyone should have cathartic moments-- those times when we are overwhelmed by emotions until we reach a point of clarity.

I try to make sure that the people around me, the ones I let into my life, are honest with me and themselves. If they aren't, and I care about them enough, I will confront them and challenge them to be real. That's what happened this weekend with someone very close to me.

Challenges are never easy, or else they wouldn't be called "challenges." After my friend listened to me tell him he was "boring," he stormed out of the restaurant. I thought that because I could tell he had not been himself for some time. His passion had waned, and he became a person of rote and habit. I went after him, got him to listen to my argument only to convict myself of my lack of passion for what I've been trying to do, which is sell the book I just wrote.

It might not be easy to speak the truth, or say what we really think, but when we do our personal growth is imminent.

So, in the process of trying to help my friend, I found in myself the same flaw of becoming "boring." And I realized the having a success that is truly satisfying must have our passion involved. I've been passionless.

In the big picture, I can see where my efforts will lead me if I keep them up. But the satisfaction of my success can only manifest if my passion precedes those efforts. Now, I have a growing passion to prove to myself while my parents are still alive that I can accomplish what I want in spite of my upbringing. I used to want to prove it to my parents, but that was a miserable state of mind. Proving it to oneself shows solidarity and independence. There's freedom in that.

Whatever we have become slave to, we must overcome. But the only way we will know we are enslaved is if we open up to the truth, unafraid and unashamed. Carpe diem.

I'm terribly sad today. The sun is shining, it's beautiful outside, and I've got Annie's macaroni and cheese cooking on the stove.

Okay, now I have the mac and cheese in a bowl next to me. I didn't feel like dirtying a colander to drain the water from the pasta, so i just strained the water out using the pot lid, dumped the powdered cheese into the pot, added a little water and olive oil and mixed. Doesn't work well that way. I've destroyed the peace symbols that the pasta is shaped into and can feel the granules of half-moist clumps of cheese in my mouth. Tasty. They look like yellow Amtrak logos.

My parents were not very nurturing to me. Maybe as the third child I was victim to parents having had enough rearing. My oldest brother had social issues, and my other brother had unavoidable and obvious visual art talent. They both received plenty of parenting, whether discipline or encouragement. I, on the other hand, was "fine" my mother told me later. Little did she know I had developed a debilitating self-diagnosed neurosis that would lead to a desire to study psychology-- the basic course of which I nearly failed during college, because I had trouble reading with then undiagnosed ADHD.

It was very difficult talking to my mother. Her expectations for me were far beyond anything I cared about. Image still is very important to her, having been born into an aristocratic Korean family. My father was also difficult to talk to, but for different reasons. I don't really know why.

While I had ideas and dreams as a child, none came to fruition until high school when I inadvertently instigated the implementation of a recycling program in our upstate New York county. That was in the late 1980s. All I did was put out empty boxes labeled, "Please recycle," and they filled up rapidly. So quickly that a Board of Education member took notice and somehow made the program happen. I wish I could remember who that was. When she asked me what I did with the cans, I told her that I took them to the dump. But really I just threw them in the trunk of my mother's old Buick Century. Later, my dad took them to the dump.

Whatever I wanted to do, my mother was vehemently opposed to it. Once I wanted to bake brownies and sell them, because I wanted to save money for a car by the time I turned 16. I was 8. Someone had to take me to the store to buy ingredients (the store wasn't walking distance), so of course I had to consult the parents. That went nowhere.

I always wanted to make money somehow that wasn't an allowance. But my parents squashed every effort. I did get to sell brownies during summers, but only with a partner who had been selling them already at a local concert hall. The concert hall was walking distance. I was not allowed to be a self-starter.

Now, however, I have been self-starting since 2002 and before during adulthood. I can't say I've been self-finishing though. I did write a book. But it hasn't made much money, which is why I'm sad. I feel as though my parents are squashing my efforts. They really aren't, but all those years of repressed feelings of rejection are coming up. God, I could use a good cry. Then pull up my bootstraps and get back to it.

Don't ever let anyone stop you from doing what you really want to do. Not even yourself.

I ate the entire box of Annie's mac and cheese.

"I'm just a little girl." That's the line I'm thinking of today. It's from the play The Owl and The Pussycat by Bill Manhof. I read the lines of Doris in a Stanislavski acting class at NYU's continuing education program (adult night school).

I decided to write a personal journal online. I have nothing to hide and everything to give. This journal is therapy for a wounded heart. While I'm writing this for myself, I'm also sharing with the world to let others know that they're not alone...or they're not that crazy...or they're not the only ones who are crazy...or you may live vicariously through me, if you'd like.

How did I become "crazy" and why would I say such a thing about myself? That's what I'm going to explore as I write. I guess this is a memoir of sorts. But really it's therapy.

This blog used to be about living with ADHD. But now that I have somewhat of a handle on my "special" skills and how to use them in this "slow" society, I haven't been inclined to talk.

I've just written a book, AlphaDog, Get The Bitch You Want. I made the title controversial to get men's attention. Now i'm trying to market it.

Ideas go so fast through my head, faster than I can write them down. Half the time, I forget some brilliant ideas. Sometimes they come back, but not usually. It's painfully apparent as I try to sell my book and write a marketing plan.

To cope with this slight problem, I have a bulletin board on which I tack pieces of paper with ideas written on them. I hope, in time, I will have a full marketing plan written on these scraps. They will be the ideas I get, which I was able to hold on to long enough in my memory to write them down. There's a solution to every problem.

My Review of Lightweight Forearm Crutches

Originally submitted at AllegroMedical.com

Lightweight Forearm Crutches The Drive EuroStyle Lightweight Forearm Crutches feature a one piece molded plastic cuff and hand grip assembly which provide maximum safety and comfort. The Forearm Crutches are available in attractive colors and have a limited lifetime Warranty. Forearm Crutch Produc...

Lightweight Forearm Crutches

Bang for the buck

By Torn Ligament from Brooklyn, NY on 11/4/2008

 

4out of 5

Pros: Supports Weight, Quiet on the floorground, Safe, Lightweight, Well Constructed

Cons: Arm braces small, Handles are hard

Best Uses: Indoors, Outdoors

Describe Yourself: Short Term User

The pink color was not as bright as I wanted, but the crutches are super light and don't sound like a peg leg hitting the floor. I used them daily for a week, sometimes putting full weight on the crutches, hobbling for almost a mile a day in New York City.

The handles are relatively hard and small, but were fine after putting foam around them. The arm bands just got around my skinny arms with a sweater and jacket on.

I used these for a ligament recovery. Definitely prefer them to regular crutches even if taking a bit to get used to them.

(legalese)

When I was 22, i came to New York City eager to gain wisdom and understanding. Well, now that I've learned how to learn, I've learned something about myself. I'm an artist. I can't help it. I've tried every type of occupation out there. And there is nothing like getting clay or paint under my fingernails and molding something beautiful out of something ugly and unwanted.

Then there's acting. Acting is in itself an art. You take a character or a script and you make it part of yourself momentarily, sometimes having an affect on your regular life. But when you starting out, it doesnt' always pay the bills.

So, how to make money to live? How to keep the income coming while allowing artistic expression to gleefully show itself on canvas or screen? Well, I got this song. It's called Happy Birthday. And finally, it's recorded. It can be heard on http://newhappybirthdaysong.com and you can even buy a CD on http://www.cdbaby.com/cd/kiai1 or kiai2. Unfortunately, as i've learned in my process of learning how to learn, I suck at business. It's not that I don't understand the concept or that I don't try. I try and next thing I know, it doesn't work according to the plan, because I missed a step or someone who was telling me something in the process of learning didn't tell me everything that was supposed to go along with that something. Either bad teachers, or not teachers at all. And thus, not so good student. Some may say a student is only as good as the teacher. But I've learned in the process of learning how to learn that one can learn great things without a good teacher. Sometimes we just have to ask the right questions.

So, here i go with a question. How can I market my Happy Birthday CD without going broke (again)?

Thank you very much for listening.

I started this blog as a journal of events from being distractible. I used to think boredom was a symptom of being distractible, but now I see it is a state of emotion or feeling on a scale somewhere between cheerful and apathetic. It's possible in any situation to change the state of boredom towards interest and it happens by using one's analytical mind.

Learning about the mind and seeing that what I'm learning makes sense makes me ecstatic. I've always believed that the mind was powerful, but to understand how it's powerful and how to use its power is "mind-blowing".

I started this blog when I was having problems in my spiritual life. I had difficulty with prayer. In 1 Peter 4:7 Peter writes, "The end of all things is near. Therefore be clear minded and self-controlled so that you can pray." (The Holy Bible, New International Version) I tried every day, but some days I'd just sit there or lie facedown with nothing but my breath coming out. I had so much to say but no ability in my mind to say it. I could say anything to people if they were willing to listen. I realize that the problem was that I had no one close by who was a good listener. My mind became clouded with thoughts and anxieties.

Today, for the first time in years, I prayed with a clear mind and with self control. I finally found people who listen...

(To be continued)

Being of ADHD blood, I have many talents. But I don't know which ones to use. I do know that most jobs in the world do not make me happy. Being creative makes me happy. I like designing houses and floorplans and kitchens. I like acting and singing and songwriting and performing. I would like to become an M.D. and help people with mental and emotional struggles. I like offering advice and writing about it. I like using Craigslist.org and meeting people.

I suppose Craigslist will be my hobby. If I am an M.D., I can offer advice too. I don't like the idea of working at designing to make money, so perhaps I'll just design my own houses as i buy and sell. I would like to make a living from performing, but that is very difficult to do right now. I would have to make sure my finances were ok before pursuing that full-force.

I am putting hope in my stock portfolio. I believe that i have a great portfolio thanks to Mark Gundy of A.G. Edwards in San Diego, who advised me. There is one stock, STEH, that looks hopeful. Sunncomm seems like a good company with a great product. The potential is enormous. They seem to be ahead in the music industry, which will never go away as long as people are listening. If that potential is reached, I would be able to quit my current jobs, which don't make me happy (they're not very creative).

I didn't go to the office today. i don't feel well. But i'm well enough to sit in a big comfy chair with a warm blanket in front of the computer. There are two things i could do in this position: learn ArchiCAD so that i can design a house or learn ProTools so that I can create music. Hard choice, but ArchiCAD is more pressing.

The Yahoo Group TheDistracted is going great. I'm so happy about it. I'm glad to have helped some people. And I've been focused at work. Working on deals. Getter better at business. We all need mentors at some point in our lives. Maybe always.

Why am i writing here? Whatever i might have had to resolve is resolved. i gotta listen to my heart more in terms of deciding what to do. i'd rather be happy doing what i enjoy and being poor than making lots of money doing what i don't enjoy as much.

writing on yahoo groups has been good since 14 people have signed up since it started. i feel purposeful. yahoo.

sometimes others know us better than we know ourselves, which means we might be in denial. sometimes we know ourselves better than our family knows us. that is especially difficult to deal with if we see family members during the holidays.

this thanksgiving was fine; the food was delicious; i got leftovers, but just before leaving mom and dad's house, i heard my mom telling my boyfriend, Louis, all the things she complains about concerning me. and all those complaints are because she doesn't understand ADHD. the positive thing is that Louis got to hear what i grew up with and understand why i get depressed and feel like a failure sometimes. the saddest thing is that my mother probably will never understand why i get upset whenever she complains about me. basically, cause i'm not good enough for her. when things don't go the way we hope, sometimes we complain. (some people always complain. how unpleasant.) i know my mother has tried to change, because she has admitted being a nuissance and even refrained from making comments when there was a perfect opportunity. But as long as she complains about me, i will resent her words.

So, this weblog writing has gotten me on a roll. I'm now working on a sitcom that hid in the back of a binder for close to 2 years. got the incentive to work on it after getting interest for it from a production company.

it's wednesday and last night i forgot that i had to draw a floor plan for a commercial space in Brooklyn. so, i'm late to get to the office. last week, i told the broker i'm working for that i would get to the office every day by 10:30am. a lot of people who struggle with being distractible dislike work schedules including myself. but getting to the office at a set time every day, or at least having it be important to get there, has started off every day well. as long as i don't have to get there really early or stay at the office, working is fine. in fact, i kind of like working in real estate. i just need a check.

Someone told me that it takes 12 to 21 days to make or break a habit. Suppose I kept up this weblog for that many days in a row. Hmmm. i don't know if that will happen. I expect myself to get distracted by something else and find that more important than writing. however, writing does seem to organize thoughts. and besides, i have a chance at getting my sitcom idea produced. gotta write.

A friend advised me to make a detailed schedule every day. Know what i have to do minute by minute. i've tried this before and it was productive, but i got frustrated when i fell behind.

i have a palm device. it's great for keeping contact information and calendar events. it's also my phone. some people don't want to have both things in one package in case it gets lost. somehow i've learned over the years to keep track of my electronic equipment. my eyeglasses on the other hand... i lost my glasses sometime in April, i think. i don't remember the last time i used them. i think it was in the Bahamas. so, they're probably on the beach somewhere buried in the sand or washed out to sea. i really liked those glasses and the frames were discontinued. actually, the frame maker went out of business.

speaking of out of business, i'm gonna be out of business if i don't start making things happen in real estate. better get a move on.