Catty New Year

Traditionally, we have always celebrated holidays on the evening before. Tonight is no different. I'm a-ringing in the New Year with lit candles and Christmas/Yule lights, incense, acoustic guitars playing on the satellite music channel, and a freshly semi-clean house.

2008 has been a hell of a year, both fun and challenging. It has been a pivotal year, as many milestones were achieved and decisions made, and I have the feeling that this coming year will be just as pivotal.

The year in review:
1. Last year at this time, we had just finished our first full, arduous year of school, and yet we still held on to the belief that our school was basically good and that while they seized every possible opportunity to capitalize, it was not all about the money. My how things change. At present, we've just finished our second year, which means we're that much closer to setting up shop in a strip mall near you. To be honest, it was the Year of Bitterness, bordering on hostility. I mean, everybody got the life, energy, drive, and passion sucked right out of them by a hypocritical and overbearing administration, even the "think positive" silver-lining types. We realized that everything was indeed all about the money (or covering their collective asses, take your pick; usually, it was both), and that our two-faced admin was dang near indictable. Over the course of this year, it dawned on us that we ran the risk of walking across the stage at graduation as ineffective doctors better suited to be fanatical fringe-appealing salespeople who reeked of some kind of fundamentalism, who might have amounted to something if we had actually earned bonafide business degrees. But we didn't. And what the hell do you do with Anatomy? It's a tough and prestigious degree to earn, and it just might impress the hell out of the world, if only anybody cared besides fellow DCs. There's more but I have the feeling it's going to need its very own post.

2. Also last year at this time, we made the lion's share of the wedding planning progress. The planning could not have gone any better; everything fell into place and took a fraction of the typical time. The wedding itself took place on Halloween and it went off without a hitch, smooth as glass, save for a flaky DJ with a malfunctioning hippocampus (that's the short-term memory bank for those of you with lives). It was beautiful and amazing. With any luck it provided some inspiration for some of the unmarried couples who attended. We'd like to think so.

Sidebar: I'm probably one of the luckiest ladies on earth, to have my husband. He is one of the warmest, kindest, funniest, most intelligent, most sensitive, and most respectful men on this planet. He's the kind of guy who would restore even the bitterest woman's faith in the male gender. He's a fantastic cook. He does the laundry. He combines errands and plans them outside of times of heavy traffic to minimize the amount of time I spend driving. He likes cats. He leaves the toilet seat down. He doesn't smoke, drink, take any drugs, dabble in porn, go out with the guys, or oogle other women. He doesn't crack distasteful jokes, especially in mixed company. He's comfortable enough with his own masculinity that he doesn't feel the need to display machismo. He treats his patients well and listens to them. He likes nostalgic '80s movies and doesn't fall for stupid humor. He pays attention to the world around him, not just what the mainstream media want him to swallow.

3. I continue to struggle with a couple of mysterious health issues. It's not anything common or deadly like diabetes or heart disease, nor is it debilitating like asthma, depression, or paralysis. No, I've been going deaf, so slowly that I barely noticed it. Not just your normal hearing impairment, either; it has its good days and its bad days. It's not that the nerves are dying off, at least not yet; it's that there's something somewhere that is interfering with them. Maybe the nerves are being injured, but there is indeed a perpetrator on the sidelines. Whether it's a food allergy, an accumulation of released particles from my leaking amalgam fillings, or yet something else, remains to be figured out, which is not currently something I have the money to do. I'm leaning more toward the mercury hypothesis at this point, because I have all the other symptoms: the balance and coordination issues, the short-term memory loss, the tinnitus (ringing in the ears), and the occasional nystagmus (involuntary horizontal eye twitching).

Other previous health issues are improving, though. The migraines have become less frequent and I no longer fall asleep in class, probably thanks to my fall from vegetarian grace. Reverting back to omnivore status was a tough and guilt-ridden decision to make, but after two and a half years, I had to face the inevitable; I function better when I include animal flesh. I can't explain it; it is what it is.

4. This year, I've taken some powerful steps to take my life back. I slowed down my driving, preserving both gas and sanity. It works and it doesn't cost much extra time. I tightened the leash on my massage availability. No longer do I work into the evening on Fridays, nor do I schedule more than one appointment on a school night. I've turned off all political AM radio talk shows and evening newscasts. Most of what concerns me I'll hear about at school anyway, as the mainstream media typically ignore those subjects. I've made it a point to stay regular with my studing, then to take some time to unwind, and then get to bed earlier. It's still hit-and-miss, but I've made some progress and I notice the difference.

5. And last but not least, last year at this time, I was researching, and in the process of adopting, Buddhism as a faith that I would soon follow and practice. This year, I am doing the same with Wicca, as an apprentice until this coming fall, when I will become a true practitioner through the typical and traditional process of self-initiation. I'm still a Buddhist, and I'm still a Hindu as well. (Gosh, I'm starting to sound like Gandhi: "I'm a Hindu. I'm a Buddhist. I'm a Jew..." Not that that's a bad thing.)

I look back because I firmly believe that one must reflect upon the past in order to discern where he or she is going. Here's where I'm going--my New Year's Resolutions:

1. At school, I resolve to make the most of my education, to absorb and incorporate the material, to understand it thoroughly and to apply it properly. To study diligently, consistently, and to stay awake and attentive in class.
2. In marriage, I resolve to be as good a spouse to my husband as he is to me, to give more than I take, to be supportive and encouraging, to listen attentively and empathetically and provide stress relief, to do my part to keep a clean uncluttered home, and to keep control over my thoughts, actions, words, and moods.
3. As an intern, I resolve to take good care of my patients, to listen carefully, to observe astutely, to consider every possible option in diagnosis and treatment, to go the extra mile and to be their advocate when approaching my staff doc to discuss treatment options. I'll respect their intelligence, always telling them why I prescribe what I do, instead of resorting to false information simply because I think it's easier for them to absorb, or using fear tactics or high pressure to keep them coming back.
4. For myself, I resolve to take care of myself both physically and mentally. Physically, I'll opt for organic fruits and vegetables and organic animal products and abstain or minimize junk foods, artificial ingredients, processed foods, and non-organic foods. I'll also set aside time specifically for physical activity. I also resolve to continue the search for the underlying cause(s) of my issues and once identified, to faithfully work to eliminate them. Mentally, I'll pay more attention to what I surround myself with, whether that pertains to people, music, movies, colors, words, concepts, subjects, research, space, clutter, photographs, or vibes. I'll avoid horror or violent movies, edgy hostile music, dark subjects and concepts, agitating colors, or toxic/negative people consumed by their own issues that they use to manipulate those around them.
5. As a Hindu, Buddhist, and Wiccan apprentice, I resolve to study the faiths I follow and practice regularly, (save for nights before exams), and to live up to their tenets to the best of my ability. I'll never prosthelytize or evangelize, but I'll also never hide or deny what I am. Never will I doubt that which rings true to me, nor will I fail to speak up and question that which does not make sense.

Raise the roof. Carpe diem. Just don't forget to turn off the music and blow out the candles.

losing (not)my religion

Let me be perfectly clear: I do believe in a Higher Power. I say this because so many people assume that if you're not Christian, you're atheist or Satanic. I am neither, and vehemently.

I've always teetered back and forth on exactly how Christian I was (or wasn't). At 13, in the middle of first-year confirmation classes at the local Lutheran church (not my idea), I proclaimed that I wasn't so sure about whether or not I should go through with an official, public, vocal affirmation that I was Lutheran--or Catholic, for that matter (I was raised both, with less emphasis on the latter until later adolescent years--as in, after the flopped Lutheran indoctrination). Inside, I was secretly timid about the whole venture, and the fact that I dared doubt the church's teachings. It was blasphemy, after all, to consider multiple deities, or to put a face to the idea of God. It was certainly not permissible to practice astrology, and the ideas of reincarnation and karma were completely out of the question.

As far as the Catholics were concerned, every human being on the planet had screwed up just by having been born, and we had to beg forgiveness by paying off the church to get on the guest list in heaven. Lutherans were less hardcore, but every church benefits heavily through the practice of tithing--giving a portion of your income to the church, usually 10% per year. They claim that God likes it when we do this. My question is, does God care? I would think that with God being God, material goods are insignificant, especially when it comes to paper with numbers and Presidents' faces printed on it that is only worth squat because the recipient also thinks so.

So many aspects of Christianity seemed hokey to me; not the basic premise, not the big idea, but the details--although those details were rather significant. However littered with eggshells the floor was, I gingerly stepped forward and considered alternatives. First, I explored Judaism, primarily because in our area, it was a visible and sizeable alternative. Many of the people I went to school with were Jewish, so it readily came to mind. I liked the idea that they acknowledged Jesus the Prophet but not necessarily his divinity. Hanukkah was also easy to swallow, being around Christmastime. It was cool because it lasted 8 days, not just 1-2. I made a Star of David in art class and put a small chain on it, wearing it daily as a pendant.

It wasn't long before that wore off, though. I didn't have any real Comparative Religion information readily at my disposal, and without being able to do any research, it's hard to participate. As I drifted into clinical depression, I became a darker person in general and thus my faith also diminished. I became more adamantly rebellious and started to ask the tough, pointed questions, dissatisfied with the lame-duck company line answers. I began to deny the existence of any God.

That didn't last long, either. If you possess capabilities of higher reasoning, it doesn't take long to simply look at the world around you or to reflect upon your life thus far and realize that the Higher Power (whatever you want to call it) is simply self-evident. My belief re-awakened, but it was different this time. Stronger. Deeper. More mature and genuine. It had evolved and ripened. It was mine. I knew something was there, and this time I knew it for myself, not because the Bible tells me so. I wasn't sure exactly what I was, but I figured that since I was now a believer again and I had no knowledge of any other alternatives, I was Christian.

Ten years later, in a Comparative Religion class, my jaw dropped open sometime during the first day. I stared at the sheet of Hindu characteristics/basic beliefs in front of me and turned to my now-husband: "dude. We're basically Hindu!" Although we weren't from India and we didn't wear turbans or saris and we didn't have our noses pierced, we shared the same beliefs and outlook on life. I got excited. I felt like I found my home. The class covered the other 4 major world religions (Buddhism, Judaism, Christianity, and Islam). Buddhism was nice too, but it just wasn't the same. I had been lost from the git-go, having been spoiled at the beginning.

There are about as many opinions and viewpoints on different aspects of Hinduism as there are Hindus, and much of the real deal information is written in languages I'll never understand, so getting information was tough. The people themselves tend to live out of the way and not go out in public much, at least in our area, and I had no Hindu friends or nearby temples, so it was tough to get into a community. Sure, there were Indian grocery stores, but they tended not to open up to Westerners much. I later learned that the further removed Indian/Hindu generations in the west become from their mother country, the less accepted they are by their own people as genuine Hindus. They are seen as too "Americanized" or "westernized". Thus, as an English-only-speaking white girl who hadn't even the roundabout inlet of having married an Indian, I hadn't a prayer of actually getting accepted in the mainstream.

I still consider myself Hindu and I probably always will, but I began to seek out other alternatives as well, if for no other reason but to add. I felt like something was missing. Lack of community support was one reason, but not the only one. I felt like the faith was rather inaccessible, and that the only information readily available to whites was made such by people looking to capitalize on those in my situation. I have my doubts as to how trustworthy the information is and how genuine the messengers are. I don't think the spiritual supermarket professes outright lies, per se, but I'm fairly certain they're spinning the truth in their own ways.

Something inside me told me to revisit Buddhism. After having been enthralled with Hinduism, when nothing else could measure up, I hadn't been in a position to give Buddhism a fair shake. This time, I researched it more thoroughly and evaluated it for itself alone, without comparing it to anything else. I found that I liked it. I admired how it had spread, and though there were missionaries, there was no record of any wars breaking out over conversion or the refusal to do so. I also admired how as it spread to each area, each culture embraced the basic teachings and adapted them, melding them in with their own already-established customs, thus creating a unique hybrid brand of Buddhism. There are about as many ways to practice Buddhism as there are Buddhists, and none of them get all uppity about who is and who isn't a "real" Buddhist, no matter what race you are, what country you're from or what language you speak. Another aspect that really attracted me was that Buddhism is not exclusive; it's inclusive. This means that you don't have to give up any pre-existing religion in order to be a Buddhist. You can if you like, or you can overlay Buddhism and intertwine it with another faith.

It wasn't until we got more heavily involved in our wedding planning that the idea of Wicca became viable. Sure, it had crossed my mind before. My interest in witches had been piqued in high school, and it was early in my college career (ten years ago) that I took up reading on the subject, borrowing a book from my younger sister, who was a new Wiccan at that time. I really liked what it had to say. It was tough to wrap my head around the idea of twin Higher Powers, a Goddess and a God, but everything else was intriguing and very compatible with my own essence and the beliefs I held. Why I had not adopted the faith then I'll never know. Most likely, it just wasn't time yet. I had some interest in European culture, history, and religion, but not much. The whole Celt thing and Renaissance lore was my mother's territory, not mine. I was fond of it, but it wasn't as kindred to me.

Until a few months ago. My husband had mentioned an interest in Celtic traditions. He wasn't raised with any particular religion other than celebrating Christmas as a folk holiday with the ideas of presents and Santa Claus, and here I was a member of two Eastern religions already. Wedding plan input felt lopsided to me; I felt like I dominated all the ideas, so I really tried to incorporate the spirit of what he was drawn to into the ceremony alongside my own contributions.

The combination turned out really nice. Much nicer than I expected. Nobody really understood what we envisioned for our ceremony, but we could each see it clear as day. Everything became evident during the wedding and everything unknown resolved in peoples' minds. But something different had happened inside me; something had been stirred. By the time the wedding had passed, it was clinched: I would become a Wiccan apprentice.

I'm sure my family wonders why I so intensely sought a path outside of Christianity. My sister and I are the first ones to do this, and our extended family is rather large. I left Christianity because although I believe in Jesus and his teachings, I don't believe in his divinity or that his conception was immaculate, or that he was a child of God any more than the rest of us are, or that he was the savior. I don't believe in the Father, Son, or Holy Ghost. I don't believe that religion needs to revolve around attending a building every week or that doing so makes you a practitioner of that religion or a better person. I don't believe that the world is coming to an end or that God judges people or that only Christians will be saved while the rest of us roast in hell. I believe that there are negative predatory spirits or forces, but I don't believe in the Christian devil, per se. I don't believe that creation occurred 6000 years ago or that it happened in 7 days. I don't believe God is a bearded man in the sky, or even male in the first place. I don't believe you have to give a certain portion of your income to an organization to be a better person. I don't believe you sin the moment you're born, and I don't believe you have to be baptized to be legit. I don't believe that every child you have is a "star in your crown". I believe in reincarnation and that there are other lifetimes besides this one. I don't believe that people who swore to be celibate for the rest of their lives and forgo some of the deepest, most fulfiling relationships known to humankind are fully qualified to tell me how I should live. I don't think any other person is fully qualified to tell me how I should live.

I'll make those decisions myself. :)

i'm dreaming of a polite christmas

We had fun today. Our local Unitarian Universalist church service featured the first day of Hanukkah as its headliner, with the Winter Solstice and the approaching of Christmas as its auxiliary acts. We clapped and sang and shared the tears and joys of the congregation, and we came away having learned something, but most of all, with restored faith in our fellow human beings, which frequently rests on shaky ground.

Especially this time of year. I remember years of Christmas Past, when no matter how dominantly rudeness prevailed in society, everybody at least found enough decency in their souls to be cordial--even friendly--to perfect strangers during the few weeks leading up to Christmas. After all, it was a season of love, giving, family, sharing, and joy. It was a holiday, and even the run-of-the-mill disrespect took some time off. (As did the restaurants, an increasing number of which now refuse to close on Christmas or Thanksgiving, but since nothing is sacred anymore, what the hell. But that's another matter entirely.)

Indeed, nothing is sacred these days. Self-centered animalistic behavior is so entrenched in society that it has been hardwired into the fibers of our being. We have officially reverted back to toddler status, like three-year-olds who selfishly and defiantly proclaim, "me first." And instead of taking a holiday, rudeness and impatience with others crank up a few notches.

We try to cover it up, but no amount of huge inflatable Santa yard ornaments or 24-hour Christmas music on the radio or sleighbells incessantly jingling in the background of every "buy stuff...from us" commercial is going to fool anyone. Fat kids with chins full of melted chocolate slobber who mumble that "Santa brings me presents" as an answer when asked what Christmas means to them eventually grow up into sullen teenagers who can't for the life of them figure out why all their teen angst didn't evaporate when they unwrapped the spankin' new iPod Nano. Sure, we use fun phrases like "magic" and "this holiday season" and we sound all perky and rah-rah, but the fact is, the secular consumerist culture only encourages us to soar to new heights doing the same thing we do the rest of the year: shop.

Bit by bit, certain movements and interest groups have sought to remove all spiritual references and symbolism from "this holiday season", banning the word Christmas from their websites and stores, relegating their employees to wishing the customers an empty "Happy Holidays" instead. They kept Santa Claus, but only because at some pathetic point during my lifetime, he morphed from a Saint into a Bill Clinton-esque secular figure who wears shades and plays the sax. When all of the meaning full elements of whichever holiday(s) we choose to celebrate have been removed, what is left? A buying frenzy and nothing more, except maybe the empty promise that yet more accumulated Stuff will solve everything, somehow mending emaciated relationships or making us better people. Top secret: it won't.

The only thing that will make us better people and improve our lives is to treat each other with dignity and respect. Every single world religion encourages the observation of the Golden Rule in some way, shape, or form, and no, it does not involve acquiring gold. Do we need to inevitably trample over, shoot at, beat up, or punch out someone else for a Wii system? Must we cut across right in front of each other on the freeway? How do we like it when the cashier at the store continues his or her cellphone conversation instead of acknowledging his or her human existence? Oh, we don't? It's rude, we say? Then why do we do this to cashiers dozens of times a day? When you ignore someone or cut someone off on the road, causing them to brake to avoid hitting you or let the door close behind you in front of someone instead of holding it open for them, does that make the world a better place? Is it really that much extra effort to be the change that you wish to see in the world (special heads-up to the pushy, snotty teenage mall kiosk salespeople)?

Saddest of all, we seem to lose sight of this fundamental the most, at a time when we've historically celebrated the birth of Jesus. (For you Christians out there, Jesus was a man who lived a long time ago who railed against the mistreatment and disrespect of fellow humankind and idealized that we all would love each other no matter what our differences. Just in case you didn't actually know.)

Don't look at me, I'm not the Grinch here. The Grinch stole Christmas, and it was a cartoon. I'm just trying to give it back to you, and I'm for real. I'm trying harder to defend the Christmas and restore its original meaning and sentiment than most Christians out there, and I'm not even Christian myself. Our Unitarian Universalist church is right: the human spirit and true happiness do not start with Sony, Visa, or iPod. They start with each of us. They start with you.

problem child

The word for the day is "inspired". It's time for me to come out about something. Today I had a revelation. It's been a long time coming, really; a long-forgotten emotion that I thought I had stubbornly buried alive with the end of my nude-modeling-for-an-artist career. The revelation is, I've been a frog in a tub of water for the last few years; a tub which has gotten warmer ever-so-gradually, and now it has started to boil and I hadn't realized it. Up until now. See, I have this loyal and frequent massage client who knows just how to walk the tightrope that separates the gray from charcoal gray areas of appropriate behavior so well that I'm amazed he hasn't fallen into the tiger pit below by now.

I'm not sure which came first, or even which was worse--the sixth hug and reticular formation-oriented vocal grunts that immediately precede "I could use that all over again" at the end of the massage or the comments about my recent weight loss or the other comments about having dreamed about my hair sweeping over him during the session or whatever else pulsates through his limbic system. All I know is that I allowed all this to progress way too far. No, not that far, perverts of the world. I did not to anything that would end me up in a confessional booth had I remained Catholic, nor did I commit any act that would have broken a wedding vow or otherwise made my husband unhappy.

But I allowed it to progress far enough that somehow my client is enamored with what my "hard body" (his words--I know...ew!) and all I know is that this shit has got to STOP. I'm angry with myself over that. I'm angrier still that I didn't cut it off right there, but let's face it: we do need the money, he's a paying client who has surprisingly never out-and-out propositioned me, and he's one of three whole clients that have remained with me while the others have been eroded away by an uncertain economy, the glut of discount massage places popping up all over like bunnies, and my own ever-changing and ever-more-demanding school schedule, and the fact that one of us has to bring home SOME kind of bacon, and in the massage therapy business, it ain't my also-licensed husband, especially a future doctor with a beard who looks better in a white coat than in scrubs, the typical massage therapist clothing of choice. And, I'm angrier still that this won't have been the last massage visit I ever schedule with this client.

From the outside, it would beg the question: where will I draw the line? When is enough enough? I had to get this off my chest to my husband, who has periodically received a play-by-play of the unfolding events over the course of this client's history. My husband listened actively and attentively as I vented briefly (yes, briefly...yes, this is occasionally possible) and we came to the conclusion that the only reason I wasn't yet ready to cut this client loose is that I need to include him in my pool of people to draw from as possible patients in our chiropractic residency (pathetically, we have to recruit all of our own patients).

For a while now, I've been toying with the idea of limiting my massage therapy practice to those who become chiropractic patients and keep current with their treatment plan. I have also toyed with the idea of eliminating the longer (2-hour) massage therapy sessions because I can't last that long anymore, I get bored, and I've also realized that there is a such thing as overworking a muscle, which can sometimes actually do more harm than good. An interesting sidenote: most of the perverts out there who intend to misbehave in some way, shape, or form in a massage therapy studio also tend to favor the longest session offered on the menu, and this particular client is no exception. So, a whole flock of birds get knocked out by a single stone; what's not to love? The ideas went from being toyed with to becoming reality. I still felt slimy, used, cheap, and depressed, but at least I also started to feel inspired.

By the way, I, too, look good in a white coat. And if this client won't listen to that, there's always Towanda...

pleased to be p2p faq, yes?

Am I the only user of my particular P2P that has any experience, and sometimes, common sense? I find myself fighting the urge to shoot out my computer monitor when I come home to 14 nonsensical messages from brain-dead chronic dope-smokers, but it is taking considerably more effort these days, so I thought I'd put this together to help everyone out.

Can I browse your files?
Yes. Right click, select "browse user's files" and wait for them to come up. You will see "waiting for file list" during this process.

Why can't I see your files / Why won't they come up?
Our P2P has a tough time indexing large collections. Mine fits this category. Sometimes, when you attempt to browse me, the program will get hung up on the "waiting for file list..." part, and it will show this indefinitely, timing out before it can bring up my files. THIS DOES NOT MEAN I AM NOT SHARING. If I wasn't, it would simply say "no files shared". I have been wrongly banned by people who so severely lack common sense that they mistake the two. Don't be that guy. If you can't get my files to come up, try again. If after several attempts, you still don't have success, come back and try again later. Don't message me. Really. There's nothing I can do about it, and I'll just get annoyed.

Um, hi... r u there?
Puh-leez do NOT send messages like this. I don't reply to them. It's not that I'm a jerk, it's that I'm busy. I also don't respond to such vague private messages for the same reason as I don't return non-specific phone messages. I don't like walking into something open-ended without knowing what I'm getting into. So please: when messaging, have a point, and state it from the git-go. And for the love of all that is holy, please spell out words like "are" and "you". "R" and "u" are SOOO 1996.

Why did you ban me?
Chances are, it's because when I browsed you, you came up "no files shared". Or maybe it's because you queued over 24 cds or so. Perhaps it's because you're sharing less than 100 files, or because all you're sharing is p0rn, without any music to be found. Sharing pro-communist, pro-Nazi, or pro-animal abuse crap is also not tolerated. Sharing files of m4a or any other "secure" proprietary format does not count as sharing, so if this is all you have, be prepared for the banhammer. It's all about common sense. Read on...

Why do you have so many rules?
When you really think about it, I don't. I don't set official limits on how much someone can queue at once, like "1 album at a time" or a daily limit, like "only 2 cds every 24 hours". I also don't ban people for sharing certain artists or types of music, or for NOT sharing certain types of music, i.e. "if you're sharing any DJ Tiesto, I'm going to ban you", or "if you don't have any zero-day releases, you're banned" or anything like that. I don't really care what you share, or what you don't share, other than what's mentioned above.

My only rule is this: common sense. Apparently this isn't so common, because I ban several people every day. Common sense means things like, if all of your shares are stored in one big folder and all you're sharing are miscellaneous single tracks, then download miscellanous single tracks at once--not full organized cds. Likewise, if you're sharing full organized cds, you may also download full cds. If you're sharing a lot, you can download a lot. If you're sharing little, you can download little.

Can you start my download?
No. What makes you better than the people ahead of you who have been waiting? Usually people who ask this question are just impatient. My favorite is when they try to pull one over on me and say they've been waiting forever and I haven't even seen the name before. Top secret: it doesn't work. I'm not that stupid. I've been asked this question so many times that I am so incredibly sick of it that when someone asks me now, I actually delete their queue and let them figure out that they're no longer in it. This boots them to the back of the class. If you simply can't wait patiently, go get the files from somewhere else. If I'm the only one who turns up in your search, queue it up and wait patiently.

Why do I keep moving back in the queue?
First of all, don't get mad at me (I say this because some people do). Unless you've asked me to start your download, I haven't touched your spot in line. You need to know two things: first, I have a long user list. If you're not on it, the program gives these people priority over non-list users. Second, you lose your spot in line every time you log off the program, so if you're crunched for time, stay logged on. You WILL move up in line, I promise.

So will you add me to your list?
I'll certainly browse you and check you out. Even though I'm not picky about who downloads from me, I AM picky about who I add to my list. If you don't have a sizeable organized collection that is of decent bitrate and is properly-labeled, or if your upload/download speed sucks, don't bother. For as many people as I ban every day, I add about as many to my list. However, if you message me and your collection is scanty and in shambles, I'll ignore you, and possibly delete your queue.

I may add to this later, if more questions and answers come to mind. As usual, I'm sure I'm forgetting something. But this oughtta satiate about 95% of the private-messengers for a while anyway.

the best things in life are free...

…Such as music. I am among those heathen pirates mentioned on the evening news just often enough to scare anyone younger than 14 and older than 60. I’ve been at it for 10 years already. It’s like a long-term relationship. I remember acquiring my first batch of tunes. A friend sort of hooked me up with about 40 songs. Among them were Yes’s “Owner of a Lonely Heart” and “Frozen” by Madonna. At first I thought, “well hell, this is pointless” because I already had the more important songs on CD or the less important songs on tape off the radio. And the file sizes—they were huge! Three and four megabytes each! If I collected any more, my hard drive space would vaporize.

But then I thought it might be cool, especially since I started hearing murmurs about this process called “CD burning” and some people were archiving their audio loot onto CD-Rs. Despite still being light years away from actually acquiring a CD burner, I did have a hazy vision of the future, and I gave it the benefit of the doubt. I decided to casually start collecting.

Of course, you couldn’t really find anything GOOD yet. At first, there were a few Geocities pages that hosted a few miscellaneous Jewel and U2 tunes, but only those that were current hits of the day. These were interspersed with a limited offering of “legal” mp3 files from who-cares groups like Antiloop and 13 Stories.

Wow, how far we’ve come since the Dark Ages of MP3. Napster’s heyday has come and gone, and it spawned in its wake a dozen little copycat germinations determined to carry out the Robin Hood spirit that it so innocently pioneered. One of them became MY P2P. Not that I invented it; I just wish I had. It started out as a safe haven for a select community of elite uber-nerds who use words like haxx0r and 1337 to swap album wrapped sets of their favorite obscure IDM electronica artists. At first, none of my searches bore any fruit. Six months or so later, I returned to find a pleasant surprise; the whole atmosphere had changed, and now whatever you wanted, no matter how obscure or even unreleased, was all there for the taking.

So I did. Icehouse, Cocteau Twins, the Motels, and Juliana Hatfield—entire albums’ worth—became mine with the double-click of a mouse button. I was in heaven.

Over six years later, the snuggly relationship is still going strong. My tastes have grown ever more eclectic and spoiled, having taken for granted that I can search for whatever I want and it will simply pop up; if not now, then eventually. The wishlist feature makes that happen. If I want to browse a user because he or she turned up results for an awesome obscure search I ran, I can do that too. And if I’d like to send a private message to said user inquiring about anything similar they can recommend, it’s a done deal. I can even start a chat room dedicated to anything I want, whether it’s a genre of music, a political view, or simply an exclusive little group for people with huge collections.

I still remember my first few songs…

Cocteau Twins “Oomingmak”

The Church “Numbers” and “Pharoah”

Murray Head “One Night In Bangkok”

Michelle Branch & Santana “Game of Love”

Juliana Hatfield “My Sister”

Blake Babies “Disappear”

Pizzicato Five “Strawberry Sleighride”

Bif Naked “Chotee”

Johnny Cash “Hurt” and “Personal Jesus”

Due exclusively to the act of napping music for free off the internet, (let’s not kid ourselves—that’s the only real reason anyone would need a broadband connection), I have discovered more music than I would otherwise have ever thought possible. It has literally opened new doors for thousands of users. Lately, it’s Celtic music (both the hand-clapping, knee-slapping, foot-stomping violin-based music AND the serene, beatless, beautiful harp melodies), Turkish bellydancing, Persian dance/pop music from Iran, or ambient/dub with traditional/ethnic accents from places like India, the UK, Egypt, or Tokyo. And I love Musical Starstreams shows as well. I’m currently collecting the entire Hearts of Space collection. Mmm.

Can you hear me now?

Despite the fact that it really is the killer app for the early 20^th century, I am really starting to regard the telephone with a look of contempt. Not necessarily one for letter-writing myself, I do enjoy receiving handwritten letters in the mail, and I will write back. Ideally, I prefer to meet the person somewhere--as in, face-to-face. Yes, that means putting the Xbox controller away, putting the computer into sleep mode, and straying AWAY from the comforts of the 4-walled cage we call home. And it means that we actually venture into a public place, where people might see us, scan the crowd for the recognizable face, obtain a raspberry-pomegranate Italian ice from the coffeehouse counter, and then settle in for a couple good hours of pure old-skool schmoozing.

The phone has been an important cog in the wheel of society’s slow-but-sure downfall. Armed with a tool of convenience from the git-go, which in itself isn’t a bad thing, we became complacent, technology-dependent, and it led us a step in the direction of hermitdom. No longer did we have to venture out or hand a letter to the Pony Express rider in order to contact someone and spread information. We could push buttons into a machine and then talk into a speaker and voila! Houston, we have contact.

This has led us, though, to increase our demands. You want to ask someone a question and get the answer right now? Call them. Want to see if they’re home without checking their driveway for their car? Call them and see if they answer. I’ve done all this, but in the additional years that have passed since high school, in talking with people from previous generations, I’ve come to agree with some in that to call someone is actually somewhat rude; you’re potentially interrupting whatever it is they may be doing. Maybe they’re catching a much-needed nap, or trying to enjoy a quiet meal. Maybe they’re using the restroom and thinking “dammit” when they hear the phone ring across the house. Manufacturers have tried to come up with workarounds. The ringer volume switch that includes an “off” option was a start; the answering machine was golden. But then you get these people who don’t leave messages! So during the Pre-Caller ID Age, you never knew who it was that called you or what they wanted.

Enter Caller ID. It couldn’t come out on the market fast enough for me. I was so assuming that the crappy priority-reversed state I was living in at the time (NOT Texas) would make Caller ID boxes illegal because it would infringe on the privacy rights of the hoodlum classmates who would crank call me in junior high school or the telemarketer who wants to sell you carpet cleaning service. But thankfully, this product of God’s Eighth Day saw the light of day.

And then you have the morons who decide they’re going to remain “out of area” or “unknown caller” on your Caller ID display. Almost always telemarketers and always annoying, they managed to snuggle up to the politicians to at least allow this loophole. At first, I imagine it was legit: not every number was hooked into the network yet. But I had a hard time with that logic when numbers from Canada would show up, but not those of corporate American telemarketers. But, at least you could tell the annoyances more easily now; they soon became the only ones who showed up as “out of area”, so identifying them became a slam-dunk.

Now, in this day and age of shameless we’ll-stoop-to-any-sleazy-shenanigan-if-we-can-make-a-buck antics, even unlisted numbers get pestered by automatic dialers that comb through every number combination and greet you with an automated greeting that lies to you, telling you that this is a second notice on a vehicle warranty renewal. Funny, I don’t remember having a first renewal. The worst part? You can’t call them back. Sure, they show up with a number, but don’t expect it to actually work. They’re only playing pretend. The real owner of that number is an innocent party somewhere, some college chick who has had threats made on her life because some cunning scam artist spoofed her number onto his and started harassing her such that she had to ditch that number and get a new one just to get herself out from under the mess. So, good luck tracking them down.

Let’s also talk about the self-absorbed narcissists who loudly gab on their cell phones all the way through the store, and cannot even be bothered to ask the other party to hang on a minute while she (usually female) acknowledges the human existence of the cashier that she expects to serve her. Did I also mention exactly how loud she is? Did I also mention that we all may not WANT to hear a play-by-play of last night’s entertainment event or her feminine issues? Some people have no shame. Shame is something that is on the decline in our society. This sad fact does not, however, make inappropriate social behavior any less inappropriate. It’s time to start a grassroots comeback.

Can I also discuss the phone menus? You know, the kind you run into when you have a simple question about your electric bill. It’s no secret that these impersonal we-already-have-your-money-so-now-we-don’t-give-a-shit companies don’t actually want to talk to you. Why should they? Their use for you is finished. It went in with last night’s deposit. They don’t actually want you to take up any more of their time, nor do they want to pay a real live human being to tell you this. They’d rather display passive-aggression, the empty claim that “your call is important to us” but the attitude speaks greater volumes, especially when you’re 54839056th in line and “your call will be answered in the order it was received”. You have two choices: kill your evening waiting, or just hang up the phone and eat whatever defeat you incur by not following through on your phone call. Either way, you’ve lost. Yes, they know that.

And my last beef with the phone is that I am a Massage Therapist (Hear Me Roar). In case you don’t already know, massage therapy sessions run at least an hour, if not 90 minutes or even more. Most massage therapists are still solo practitioners who are small potatoes enough not to have a storefront with a receptionist to answer all the incoming calls. Thus, when you call a massage therapist, expect to leave a message. This is the rule rather than the exception. I cannot understand the people who took the time to look me up, read my website, like what I have to offer, reach for their phone, dial my number, and then...click. No message. I see that the person called; their number shows up on my “missed call” list. But no message, so I can hardly call them. It’s almost like a tease: “ha, ha, you could’ve had me, but since you were in session, I’m punishing you by letting you know I called” (hence the glaring evidence of the missed call) “but I’m moving on. Neener neener!”

OK, I lied. I have one more beef with phones. Talking on one is one thing. No problem there. Texting, mp3-playing, and internet browsing are quite another story. When a professor announces that there’ll be a surprise quiz after a 10-minute break and during the break half the class floats in, you just KNOW that those who were here texted those who weren’t (but were on campus, studying in the library or playing ping-pong in the gym) so they made sure to hightail it up to the classroom. This is cheating the system, if you ask me. The whole idea is to be HERE, in class. This is kind of important if you want to be a doctor. You gotta kind of be here to receive the information. Just once I’d like the prof to come back after the break and say “psyche! No quiz. I just wanted to see who was actually on campus after all.” Bonus points if the prof springs the quiz on us unannounced at the very END of class, after the slugs had all left again to go reclaim their beanbags in the library. Suckers!

Sweet(er) Ride

I loathe driving. So much so, that I used to race around as fast as I could, so that I could arrive at my destination and be done driving ASAP. I thought I was saving precious time. The reality? I wasn't. It took me 22 minutes to get from my driveway to the Royal Lane exit off the Tollway, doing 75 mph, getting pissed off at everyone and their brother for being in my way.

The result? I arrived at school at 7am, already irate at the entire world, my heart pounding and my legs still wobbly from the adrenalin release. Wow, real productive. To add insult to injury, I was getting about 13 miles to the gallon and I was refilling my gas tank every 5 days. Thinking back, I remember discussion of a vague theory that some vehicles are designed to go 55 mph - lower or higher, they said, and you lose mileage. So, I did a little experiment...

The Old Me used to drive 70-75 miles an hour. The New-and-Improved Me decided to try and keep it between 60 and 65, just to see what would happen. The result? I got about 17-18 miles to the gallon. This got me 50 more miles to the tank, which means I could wait 6 days between fill-ups. This translates to 5 fill-ups a month instead of 6, and when gas was $4 a gallon, this meant a savings of $80 a month. For real. Oh yeah--and all that extra time I was saving? Three minutes. Three. Which could get eaten up at a stoplight doing 75. So the "time saved" was hardly significant at all.

The biggest payoff, though, was that my red-faced perpetual state of general global intolerance had all but dissipated. Am I still snippy and brash? Sure, from time to time. But I no longer harbor intensely the feeling that no one can do anything right (unless I'm PMS-ing, which is a different matter all together) from the 7 AM git-go. My blood pressure went down. My adrenals finally reconstituted from their shriveled state and reclaimed their rightful place atop my kidneys, albeit in long-term recovery mode. Hey--at least they're not still backed into a corner, afraid to move. Progress!

Useless Facts About Yours Truly

I saw this on another blog and thought, how tempting...in a self-absorbed sort of way. Regardless, it looked fun, and I couldn't resist coming up with my own version. So here it is...useless factoids. Feel free to add your own in the comments section.

5 Things under $5 that I can't live without:
scrunchies
soulseek
kamasutra scented oil from Earthbound Trading Company
safety pins
organic chocolate truffles from Whole Foods Market

5 Favorite movies:
"Fried Green Tomatoes"
"Pump Up The Volume"
"Office Space"
"Hackers"
"Silence of the Lambs"

5 Baby names I love:
Kylie
Laina
Savannah
Austin
Dirk

5 Songs I could listen to over and over again:
"Solid Rock" by Dire Straits
"Page One" by the Charlatans
"Tantalized" by the Church
"Third Gate of Dreams" by Makyo
"Now & Then" by the Smithereens

5 People who have influenced me in a positive way:
my parents
my sister
my husband
my late grandfather
Dr John Donofrio & Dr. Joe Thomas (they act as a team, so I count them together)

5 Things that are always in my purse:
(well, I don't have a purse, but...does my bookbag count?)
my kamasutra oil
my tincture of astragulus
my Ziplock bag of vitamin C Capsules
my laptop
my bottle of reverse osmosis water

5 Moments that have changed my life forever:
moving (back) to Texas
meeting my husband
marrying my husband
realizing I can function well without antidepressants, despite a diagnosis of clinical depression
deciding to become a natural healthcare practitioner

5 Obsessions I have right now:
downloading and listening to music
blogging :)
House MD (TV show...and I don't watch much TV, so that says a lot)
perfecting the world's grammar
reading books about Wicca

5 Places I would like to go:
Egypt (Alexandria, Cairo)
India (New Dehli, Goa, Bombay)
Middle East (Bethlehem/Jerusalem/Lebanon/Syria)
Yucatan, Mexico
Brazil
(I'd also like to go to Ibiza, Sicily, Vancouver Canada, Hawaii, Puerto Rico, and Costa Rica, but we'll save that for later!)

5 Appliances/Kitchen Tools I can't live without:
(well, actually I don't cook, but...)
stainless steel cookware from Kitchen Craft
stainless steel measuring spoons
teapot that I use to heat water for both oatmeal and tea everyday
mortar & pestle (more ceremonial than culinary, but I digress...)
corianne (sp?) cutting board

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I'm adding my own...

5 People I'd like to meet:
Thomas Jefferson
Buddha
Jesus
Gandhi
Edgar Cayce

5 Things that annoy the crap out of me:
drafts of air blowing
holes in my socks
holes in my jeans
compression of radio signals
fluorescent lighting

5 Places I've been:
Vancouver, BC, Canada
Calgary, AB Canada
San Francisco, CA
Miami, FL
Quebec, Canada

5 Music artists I could listen to all day long:
Dire Straits/Mark Knopfler
REM
The Cure
Queensryche
Def Leppard

5 Things I've never done (besides the big bad things):
send a text message
do illicit drugs
parachute jump
broken a bone
been outside of the continental US and Canada

5 Ways we could spend our honeymoon:
Renaissance Festival-hopping
Road trip: Ghost Towns of Texas
Texas Big Bend
Santa Fe, NM
walking the Riverwalk of San Antonio

5 Things I would like to do (realistic):
earn black-belt knowledge in a martial art
be able to treat practically anyone that walks through our doors (besides emergencies, etc)
tour the Mediterranean coastline countries
learn Spanish
do yoga

5 Things I can't do, no matter how hard I try:
Run for more than 30 seconds
Raise one eyebrow
cook
draw - at all
hold a grudge (I can be bitter as hell, but I can't hold it for long)

Flu Shot, Schmoo Shot

Every year like clockwork, the mainstream media suddenly start harping on the flu shot, headline-style. Out of nowhere, it seems to leapfrog directly to the head of the class, and have you noticed that it usually does so at the beginning of the month? Kind of like it was...dare I say it...planned? Orchestrated? Engineered? The exact timing varies; it could be October 1st, November 1st, it doesn't matter. I doubt they'll do it on September 1st again; they did that one year and I had to laugh because they were trying to instigate mass panic (as usual) but it was still over 90 degrees and sunny (as it commonly is in North Texas in September) and not a single soul had any evidence of the flu just yet. It just made them look stupid.

So, what's all the hype about the flu shot? They keep changing the rules anyway. Who should get it this year? Elderly people? Kids? The immunocompromised? Everyone else? Lord only knows. But what I do know is this: first, please understand that the flu shot is not all it's cracked up to be. It has not been shown to reduce mortality (read: the instance of death) from the flu. It has not been shown to decrease symptoms. It has not been shown to make any positive impact on the target groups (elderly and kids).

Its common classification as a "vaccine" is not exactly accurate. Vaccines typically contain a weak or dead pathogen, or remnants/products thereof. This particular shot doesn't contain any part of the flu virus at all anymore.

So what does the flu shot include? Let's take a look at that, shall we?

* Mercury: From Mercola.com, one of the leading authorities on health and wellness, a typical flu vaccine contains 25 micrograms of thimerosal, which is about half mercury by weight. That amount is indeed safe for you....if you weight more than 550 pounds. Mercury is perhaps the most neurotoxic substance on the face of the earth. Out of the 80 trillion or so cells in your body, exactly NONE of them can live without proper nerve supply. Mercury directly hampers this, and it does its damage quickly, with far-reaching effects. Run a search on YouTube for the videotaped study of the introduction of mercury to normal nerve tissue done by the University of Calgary.
* Aluminum: While the most recent evidence no longer links this with Alzheimer's Disease, it remains on the list of toxic heavy metals you should avoid.
* Ethylene glycol: this is plain ol' antifreeze, ladies and gentlemen. Why not just go sit under your car and catch the sweet-tasting drops? I'd be crazy to do that, you say? Why would I get the flu shot then? ;)
* Formaldehyde: Yes, the embalming agent. For real. The EPA has classified it as a probable human carcinogen (meaning that it in all likelihood causes cancer in humans). This means that it is toxic to cells and can cause damage throughout your system and unpleasant reactions.

There are others, but these are the heavy-hitters. This information came from multiple sources, including mercola.com and vaclib.org (which has put together an expansive and comprehensive site on vaccines, studies, efficacy, ingredients, and many other facts. If you're interested in this kind of thing, do check it out. The layout is tough to read, but it's worth it.)

It comes down to this: please resist the pressure to get a flu shot this year. You really don't need it, no matter which demographic you fall into. Chances are really good that even if you get a shot, you'll still get the flu. Chances are also really good that after just a few consecutive shots, your risk for neurological diseases (such as dementia, especially premature/early-onset) increases exponentially, although these don't shot up till much later and thus are never correlated with the reception of a flu shot, but are rather attributed to "old age" or some other nonsense.

The worst that can happen is that you actually get the flu. As much as the media scare people about the mortality rate of influenza every year, the flu still comes around every year and it still infects people, and by and large, they survive. I now have a cold/flu for the second time this year, and I'm simply weathering the storm using as many natural remedies as I can (although NyQuil comes in a little handy--I'm not a drug-oriented person and I don't like the way I feel on it, but at least it forces me to SLEEP). But I'm going to bounce back in a couple of days. And so would you.

Whip it! Whip it good: 30 Ways To Beat the Cold/Flu

Great. My husband is sick. If I'm not careful, this means I'll get it too, and I just don't have an extra time slot in my schedule to deal with a cold/flu. No, we didn't get the flu shot. Give us some credit, we're not stupid :)

With arctic air upon us (at least, as arctic as it gets in Texas--which can be surprisingly cold at times), I thought it'd be helpful to outline our plans of attack and lines of defense against the bugs, and what you can do if one gets ahold of you anyway.

First, let's face it: prevention is the best cure that ever lived. That comes down to simply taking care of yourself. It starts with the basics: a decent diet, exercise, and basic hand-washing. This is what I do.

* Follow a preventive diet. Don't consume dairy or sugar, because these foods inflame mucus-producing cells and cause more mucus production. They also provide a great breeding ground for bugs. Take extra vitamins. Now that my husband is sick, I'll do the following.
* Instead, eat foods that are easy to digest. Current research indicates that 80% of your immune system is in your gastrointestinal tract. If your energy is tied up digesting a ton of food, you won't have enough energy left over to fight bad guys.
* Astragulus - this is my front runner, my quarterback, my secret weapon. It's an herb commonly used in Traditional Chinese Medicine to build the immune system. I tend to forego echinacea; it's not that it doesn't work, but its job is to stimulate the immune system. It will only stimulate what is already there. Most people are immune-deficient, which means that there is not much there to stimulate, and echinacea will only provide limited benefit. Astragulus is the better alternative because it builds the immune system from the ground up.
* Vitamin C - never underestimate the old standby. You'll need more than a Centrum pill, though. You'll need more than a standard 250 or 500 mg dose. That's child's play; your body will burn through that in an hour--or less, if it's busy fighting off an infection. You'll need a much larger dose; exactly how much will vary. I like to start with 10,000 mg per day if I've been around a sick person but I'm not showing any symptoms.
* Water! I will generally take in a gallon of water per day when preventing getting sick. It's a great detox mechanism that doesn't stress the body very much and will help prevent illness by flushing you out.
* Sleep! If you don't get enough sleep, you can't regenerate, you can't recuperate from stress, and you can't repair or heal. Muscles get tight, brain chemicals get depleted, and the body becomes inefficient. Winter seasons or living with someone who is sick is not the time for your body to be functioning at below-optimum levels. So give in, turn off the computer and TV, and hit the sack.
* Exercise - keep your body active and balanced by moving around. Active people tend to be sick less often than sedentary people.
* Home hygiene is extra-important, if someone in your house is sick. Keep separate areas between you and the sick person. Wash your hands before and after touching things they've touched, and suggest that the sick person does the same. Don't share food or utensils, and don't drink out of the same cup. Sanitize the air with an effusion lamp. Use regular rubbing alcohol, not any type of fragrance oil, which could be irritating to the respiratory system, especially in those who might be allergic or sensitive. Wipe things down, keep them clean.
* Stay regular with your chiropractor. This is perhaps THE most important component of staying well. Spinal adjustments have been shown to boost the immune system by 700%. I don't get sick at all if I'm adjusted regularly.

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So you got sick - now what? Despite your best efforts, you may get a bug anyway, if your body is weak enough or the bug is strong enough. Here is what I do:

* Astragulus at the first sign of drainy throat sensation. Sometimes this can stop it in its tracks, but it takes a lot. Tincture variety is best.
* Fenu-Thyme from Nature's Way, 4 capsules. This is your non-drowsy Dristan or Sudafed. It won't make your nose quite as dry, per se, but it does help unblock the congestion in a big way. I like the Nature's Way combination because it's convenient, but truthfully, fenugreek and thyme are common culinary herbs that when used together, have a synergistic effect (i.e. their combination is better than the two taken separately) that is especially powerful for beating congestion. These herbs work their best when not stale or over-processed, so get them from a good source.
* Kali Muriaticum, 30c is a homeopathic remedy that is VERY effective for unblocking the sticky, stubborn buildup that is loose enough to come out but is to thick to budge.
* Bayberry tincture is a fantastic congestion-unblocker that is especially useful for those unique situations where your sinuses are so blocked that you have to resort to breathing through your mouth and no amount of nose-blowing brings any relief. This herb won't dry you out, so to speak, but more importantly, it thoroughly breaks up the congestion so that you can then blow it out--for good. Definitely my secret weapon for those nights that would otherwise be sleepless with labored breathing. Do NOT take too much of this herb, however! It is a powerful emetic (i.e. it makes you puke) if you consume enough.
* Megadoses of Vitamin C now. I find that I take anywhere from 20,000-35,000+ mg *per day* at the first sign of evidence that the bug is starting to take hold.
* Ginger and any other "yang" herb I can find. Ginger is awesome for colds. Tea is best; gingersnaps don't count...sorry :)
* Water! For the same reasons as above. I often pee every hour when fighting something.
* Sleep! For the same reasons as above.
* Take garlic. Not only is it fantastic for cholesterol and anti-aging, but it has fantastic immune-boosting properties.
* Very importantly, I go on a very restricted diet. Only warm, nutritious foods that are easy to digest. Think steamed veggies, soup without MSG, oatmeal, herbal teas, etc. No dairy, sugar, beef, or wheat.
* Most importantly, I see my chiropractor right away. I get much better, and much faster.

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Obviously, there are some no-nos. Here are some things to avoid.

* Sugar - creates mucus and a bug-friendly environment. Saps your body's energy.
* Dairy - inflames the mucus-producing cells in your body, making them secrete more mucus, and making you feel worse.
* Alcohol - alcohol steals vitamin C away from your body, impairing your immune system and interfering with your body's natural everyday detoxification processes.
* Smoking - has the effects of alcohol and dairy combined.
* Flu shot - this actually hampers your body's functioning, due to the fact that it's a cocktail of toxic ingredients that only load your body full of crap. They're overrated and they don't do much anyway. In fact, their proponents have finally had to admit that they haven't had any effect on flu mortality.
* Cold air - saps your body's energy and makes you feel worse.
* Stress - same as cold air.
* Beef, potatoes, etc. Heavy foods are tough to digest and they occupy your GI tract such that it doesn't have any energy left over to fight the bad guys. And don't eat too much of even the good food, for the same reasons.
* Massage therapy - this is NOT the time or place for massage. Massage will simply spread the virus around your body. While its relaxation properties and GI function enhancement are good, wait until the worst is over. Besides - it's not much fun being face down when you're already plugged up anyway.
* Oranges are too yin and acidic, and they don't deliver the blast of Vitamin C people thought. In fact, some oranges have zero Vitamin C, due to growing processes and fertilizers used, etc. They take too much energy to digest and they're fairly pro-inflammatory, which also increases mucus production.

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Remember that all is not lost at the first sign of a cold or flu. I have kicked several bugs that tried to take hold, and looked like they were going to win, to the point where I was sure I'd been beat. Don't give up hope. Don't tell yourself you're sick at first. Sometimes I've won out simply by telling myself and my body that it's not going to do this, I don't have time to be sick. Other times I have closed my eyes and visualized the crappy buildup in my throat getting blown apart by a positive, bright white light. It worked in 10 minutes. Visualization is quite powerful if it's done in time and it is genuine. Become a warrior this winter; don't give up the fight! :)

Bittersweet Symphony, This Life

In case the date tacked onto the end of the post is in too small a font, it is December 5th, 2008. In just a couple of hours, the 20th anniversary of my grandfather's death will come to pass. And later into the evening tonight, my husband will officially turn 38. Talk about being caught in a moment where you're celebratory and mournful at the same time.

It was sunny and cold outside, with a variable wind, much like today. I got to leave school partway through the day for an appointment with the ENT specialist for yet another ear infection, and since it was my mother who usually took me, I was surprised to see my father's large 4-door pickup parked in the school's loading zone. I climbed into the back and asked where mom was. My little sister in the front seat said she was at the hospital with Poppie, who had had a heart attack, and even though I had not yet been conditioned to look on the bleak side (I was only 11, after all), something inside me already knew: he wasn't going to make it, and I wasn't going to see him again. I asked them if he had survived, and they said they didn't know yet.

I don't remember much after that. I can't even remember when I heard the news that he was officially gone. My memory fast-forwards to that evening, where my mother was very shaken and tearful, and so were the rest of us, and we were trying to cope with the fact that the world as we knew it had dropped out from under us. I remember the funeral and the tearful-but-trying-to-be-upbeat festivities that surrounded it. There were the dozens of cookies that had been baked on his last weekend with us, and when it came down to a choice between having to laugh or having to cry, we did our best to laugh. We remembered the good times and his wonderful personality. I figured I'd pay some homage here.

First off, my grandfather was one of those gentle giants. A big, smart, quiet guy who was raised in the Deep South on corn and rice. He had thick glasses He had the biggest heart that ever lived. He devoted his entire life to my self-centered grandmother, on whom the sun and moon rose and set. He put up with everything, including that which would drive anyone else off the face of the earth. He also dearly loved his children--my mother and my aunt. He had a special spiritual connection with my mother, always knowing exactly when she needed a hug, and that carried over to me as well. Intuitive eyes behind thick coke-bottle glasses missed nothing. He was very sensitive; a REAL man always likes cats, and he did.

I admit that as a dumb kid who knew nothing, I didn't treat him that well back then. I realized what I had in a grandfather like that, but I didn't appreciate it or respect it nearly as much as I should have. And for that, I am sorry. I wish I could go back and do it all over again, reconnect with him now and set things right, to help him the way I now know how.

Fast forward 20 years. There is now a lot of sweetness thrown into that bitter mix; I now have a reason to celebrate, because it's my husband's birthday. We just got married, and the funny thing is, when we met and started to fall in love, I realized how strongly he resembles my grandfather. Not entirely, of course, but in many of the mannerisms and especially the eyes. Unfortunately, I'm a little bit too much like my grandmother, (who is a good lady truth be told, but not someone I really want to emulate. We're not actually all that similar, but I'd like to be even more different.)

My husband is a giving, caring man who might grumble at the prospect of having to do a particular chore or about anything else, but he sucks it up and does it anyway. There is a lot that he does that he doesn't want to do, but takes care of so that I don't have to worry about it. He really does take care of me. He listens to every rant, he takes care of every odd and end, he does every possible favor, and he empathizes and sympathizes with all of the uncommon stressors that often plague me.

He is also a real man; he loves cats. They are his children. We don't even want any human children at this point; we're satisfied with the furry ones. He hugs them, pets them, and gives in to their every quirky desire. He is also a real man in that he is not incessantly glued to every sports game on TV; in fact, he doesn't even watch sports. He doesn't care about them, or even like them. Instead, he'd rather dress in costume and hit a local Ren Fest. He'd rather people-watch at the mall. Hell, he'd rather shop. Yes, girls, he IS straight. I know. You hate me.

The reality is, even though I miss my grandfather and I wish we could interact again on the physical plane (at least, sometime soon), I no longer mourn his death. Instead, I make the effort to celebrate his life, the fact that he lived on this planet and we got to experience his presence and who he was. Along with that, I celebrate the life of my husband, and all that he is, with all of his strengths, weaknesses, quirks, and uniqueness. I wish that those two could have met, and my heart aches with the idea that they can't--at least, not yet. But to have known both is truly a gift. It's deep and mushy, but it had to be said.

Class Stuff

I dedicate this post to the recent mysterious vanishing of one of the few websites that preserved my sanity. Truth be told, it was a unique website, written by unique people in exactly the same boat as I am now floating in, people who go to my school, share a similar future, and have realized the same things at about the same point in their school careers and soul evolution as I have. Only I think I was a trimester early with the Bitterness part. But, I digress.

This was a site in which a spokesman for an entire class with the gift of written gab chronicled their experience at our school as budding Doctors of Chiropractic from Day 1 up until now. At the end of each trimester, they would look back and formulate an hilarious Top 10 list of moments and concepts they experienced and discovered during the trimester.

Now, the whole site is gone without warning, without so much as a hint. For real. I hope it comes back. Trying to send it loving thoughts and positive energy (in case I possess such a thing somewhere) and encouragement to spontaneously reappear, I write this in the spirit of that page. Not to be a copycat, per se, but to carry on the oh-so-empathetic essence of those pages.

MY Top 10:
Apparently there are Unicorns in Dr Bodnar's world. He even said so. But he encouraged us not to include that fact in our initial phone greetings. During Business Principles 1 in Tri 1, he covered ways to answer the phone in our future offices--and also, how NOT to answer the phone. He told us that we wanted to be genuine and upbeat when taking that initial call, but not to put the sap on and say, "it's a great day at Bodnar Chiropractic; we have flowers and rainbows, and--God dammit there's a unicorn!" Funny part was, he hadn't meant to say the "God" part--or probably the "dammit" part, for that matter. It just slipped out, before he could catch it, and he spent the next several minutes trying to recover, while trying to cover up the fact that he was trying to recover.

1. I won't use students' names (although professors' names are fair game, since they're on those rate-your-professor websites anyway, and believe it or not, our tiny school of under a thousand students is on there). We were advised to develop our palpation skills by plucking a hair and putting it under a piece of paper (or a page in a textbook), moving our finger(s) over it to see if we could feel it. Once we could feel the hair through one layer of paper, we were told to turn the page so that we were feeling it under 2 layers. One of the cool guys who sits behind me was doing this, using a textbook that covered all things anatomy. He was mindlessly feeling the hair under the page, not looking at what else was on the page. You can see where this is going. The girl who sits right next to him started laughing quietly and discreetly drew his attention to the page, which featured the basic surface anatomy of the male thorax. He blushed and without looking, flipped back a page. She cracked up again. Turned out he was mindlessly moving his finger over a detailed female breast.

2. Doctor school is sometimes less about anatomy and more about math. You start calculating that if you make 75 on a lab practical exam and 63 on the final, you can STILL keep your B in the class.

3. Guys look really spiffy in dress shirts and ties (dressing up for clinic). But pretty soon you start to realize they're letting the JC Penny models do the thinking for them. Oh, and there's that humorus phenomenon in the back hallway near the records room that if you're a guy, you're going to get your collar straightened up by the girls and if you're a girl and you see ANY guy with a crooked or flipped up collar, he's fair game. Doesn't matter if you're involved with him or not. Don't worry. He's expecting it by now.

4. You learn some interesting things. Like how autism is actually not caused by the inhibition of a methylation reaction (due to the combination of mercury in the vaccine and a genetic encoding error--which is basically proven fact at this point) but actually by the inhibition of the right cortex of the brain. Neat. Well since all of us have our right cortices dampened by the left-brain dominant schooling process, wouldn't we all have autism then? Hard questions.

5. Twenty-first century school is FUN. When I was in high school, we thought our school was hot because we had a phone in every classroom. We especially thought it was funny when the phone would ring (usually an incoming call from the admin office) and if the teacher wasn't there, a student would invariably answer it with something like "Domino's Pizza, can I take your order?" and the class would roll. Now? Hell, we have a campus-wide wi-fi network, so everyone with a laptop can get on YouTube and stay awake amuzing themselves with Charlie the Unicorn. Actually, it was a professor who introduced Charlie the Unicorn to us...he was trying to be cool and gain rapport with the class, so like many profs he started to begin each class with funny videoclips.

6. Ah yes, Charlie the Unicorn. It's a hopelessly stupid cartoon short between several talking unicorns. Charlie, the main character, is a wet-blanket crank and he is endlessly pestered by two younger unicorns who incessantly want him to play with them. They nag and nag until finally he gives in--very grumpily. He fulfills their request to take them to Candy Mountain, and all along the way, they're making noises at different pitches. It's impossible to describe or spell, so I won't even try, but suffice it to say that it became a very signature sound. So during National Board exams, as some very near-retirement officials are handing out the Scantron bubble sheets, three people in the entire room start making that noise and nobody notices it except the 10 people randomly seated about the room who are just dying.

7. I learned that here, if you try something and it doesn't make sense, you don't just stop doing it; you apply a band-aid fix that's almost worse than the pre-existing problem. And then you get all excited about it like things are going to be so much better this time. They came to us with this 5-year plan of which they couldn't actually divulge any helpful juicy details, but they wound themselves up in their own personal pep rally about how it was going to be really cool in 5 years. We're going to graduate in 13 months, and it begs the question--are we actually supposed to care? We should sync up our watches so that in 5 years I can come back and have the satisfaction of knowing that my education was far substandard and that I paid Ivy League tuition to be a captive guinea pig.

8. I must say, however, that in the midst of all my caustic sarcasm and ranting, I have to take a moment to recognize the talent we got to benefit from during our first year. I was never impressed with the school's admin or chain of command (other than the recruiting staff, which is suspiciously competent), but the faculty--save for a few, damn they're good! Too bad some of them are very close to retirement.

9. Talk about counter-intuition...I learned that if you think you did well on a test, you didn't; and if you think you bombed it, you did surprisingly better. Every time.

10. For some classes, it doesn't matter how much you study; what does matter is how well you know the inside of the professor's head. For these select few classes, don't put much time into them. Show up to class, take some notes, get a feel for what's subjectively important to them, and if you don't know what to study beyond that, don't really study much of anything. Follow up on what's important to them and leave it at that.

Well, there ya have it. It's not nearly as cool, funny, or descriptive as the original website. In fact, it didn't even do it justice. But since I don't yet know of any similar sites out there, this will have to suffice for now. Since we're only two-thirds done with the program and we haven't even started residency yet, I'm sure they'll provide us with much more material to, shall we say, critique.