When We Were Armless

Have you ever imagined what it would be like if your arms fell off while you were playing basketball? I haven't...until now.

It'd probably suck a lot. You couldn't dribble, shoot or touch the ball. And if you went out for a burger later, wouldn't be able to pick up the burger and bring it to your mouth, nor could you pull out your wallet to pay for it. And when you went back to your apartment, you wouldn't be able to turn your key in the door, but even if you could, you wouldn't be able to turn the knob to open the door.

So I decided to make a list of things that armless people can do that people with arms cannot do. Here it is.

-Nothing.

Seriously, if our arms fell off in the middle of a basketball game, we'd be so screwed. We should probably go ahead and surrender to the Japanese now. At least then we'll still have our dignity, even if we don't have arms.

First Coffee in Two Years

Almost two years ago, I quit coffee forever. I wasn't sure I'd be able to do it, and all my closest friends had their doubts, and today I finally proved them right. After almost two full years of not drinking coffee and sticking to tea, I caved.

And it's been a total disaster. I seriously feel like my limbs are all going to break free of my body and fly away at any second, and there's nothing I can do to stop it. It's more like I'm on speed or cocaine.

The problem with having all this nervous energy is not having anywhere to channel it. If you've read much of this blog, you know that my job requires almost no actual work, so it's not like I can just be more productive than usual. Looks like all I have is blogging. And while caffeine gives me energy, it does not give me motivation to blog more.

See you tomorrow if my heart doesn't explode

Scruffy

I haven't shaved in about five days now. That's kind of a lot for me. It's not that I've gotten too lazy to shave, or even that I decided to grow a beard. It's that I discovered that I like it when I look sruffy. Kind of like a terrier.


Next time you see me, you'll remember this picture, and you'll think to yourself, "Hmm...Ben really does look kind of like a terrier now that he stopped shaving. Maybe I should get a terrier, but not because it would remind me of Ben. It would be very strange to own a dog that reminds me of Ben, especially when it's licking my face to wake me up in the morning, or when it's peeing on a tree in my backyard." And since I can read your thoughts, I would be disgusted.

I have a feeling, though, that if I keep up this not-shaving business past this week, I'd end up leaving Scruffy Town for Beard City, and no one would like that. Then I'd look less like a terrier and more like some loser with a beard.

Broken Skeleton

What if every single one of my bones broke at the same time? That would suck beyond belief. I really doubt it would ever happen, but still, it wouldn't be good news if it did.

A few minutes ago I was worried that my neck would break. I'd just be sitting here, and all of a sudden, SNAP. Broken neck. Again, I really doubt it would happen, but better safe than sorry, right? Though I don't know how to be safe about spontaneously broken necks. Still, broken neck would be better than a broken skeleton.


If I had a choice between having a totally broken skeleton or to have no muscles, I would probably choose the totally broken skeleton. Cuz check out that rhino: sure, all his bones are intact, but he's dead. Granted, he could still be alive and have no muscles (in theory), but the he'd look pretty ugly.

So I'm really glad that I have an intact skeleton and all my muscles.

Adventures in Energy Boosting

Upon my return from the tiny country of El Salvador, I've discovered several things. Not the least of these things is the fact that I am now very tired all the time. I've been at work three days, and in each of them I may or may not have fallen asleep at my desk AND during a meeting.

Last night, I told my roommates that I was having significant problems staying awake, and Corey presented me with some creative solutions. Of course, I spurned them all and came up with my own. For your reading pleasure, here they are!

1. Mustard. I don't really like mustard, but for some reason it made sense to me that drinking two liters of the stuff (instead of water, of course) would give me a huge boost in awakeness. This experiment gets an 8.5 on the not-worth-it scale.

2. Robotic Heart Transplant. I figured if I removed my human heart and replaced it with a superior artificial model, I maybe wouldn't even need to sleep ever. Not that I actually went through with it. Stupid responsible doctors.

3. Jumping off of buildings. Nothing gives me a rush quite like a free fall. If I take a good five-story jump every few hours, I should have no problem staying awake for the whole day. Caution to the wind.

4. Hummingbird Blood. Native American legend says if you drink a creature's blood, you gain its strength. So why not drink the blood of the most energetic creature on the planet? Surprisingly, it did not taste as honey-sweet as I expected.

Legless

Would you still like me if I had my left leg amputated? Don't laugh. This is a serious question. No longer is this some distant hypothetical situation. It's becoming a real possibility. In a few weeks, I may have to just find a guy with a chainsaw and a jar of ether and get this darn thing hacked off in an alley.

Allow me to explain the present situation. I walked to church on Friday, and after about half a block, I got a really sharp pain in my knee. I probably shouldn't have walked to church to begin with. I mean, this is America. We're too rich to walk. That's what I get for not abusing luxury, huh?

So yeah, I might have to get my whole leg removed. I understand if you won't really want to read my blog anymore after that. That would be really shallow if you did stop, but in the long run, it might be the better decision. But if enough people stop taking me seriously, I'll get it reattached. I'll save it in my closet until the time comes.

Too Old

Someday over the last couple weeks I turned 25. It's the most horrifying age I've ever been. I'm now a quarter-of-a-century old. I'm halfway to halfway dead. My best years are behind me, and now my life is like a train recklessly speeding toward the wasteland of 30, where it will inevitably crash and kill millions.

Already I'm experiencing some signs of old age:
-Arthritis: My hands can no longer type without significant pain, so I hired a typing monkey to do all my word processing at work. I dictate, he types. He's not as literate as I would like, but you work with what you get. So I get to work with a monkey.
-Memory loss: This has always been a problem, so I don't really care.
-Yelling at punk kids: The monkey knows how to skateboard, so I find myself shaking my fist at him and yelling about his shenanigans as he rolls by. It's embarassing for both of us, but mostly for him, I imagine.

I can't remember what else I was going to write.

Spine

My back hurts. I guess all those years of leaning sideways instead of standing up straight are catching up to me. Something must be done, and it certainly won't be anything related to posture correction.

I've heard a number of people talk about chiropractors this week, but I don't think I'm ready to take that step. Something about chiropractics doesn't gel with me. I think it's cuz I associate the whole thing with snakes. I've always imagined a chiropractor's office to be full of snakes. Sometimes the chiropractor has snakes for arms, too. There's a reason for that, but I'm not gonna waste our time explaining it.

I've also considered massage therapy, but the thought of being rubbed by hands is incredibly disconcerting to me. I think I'd react a little like Charlton Heston from Planet of the Apes. You know, "Get your stinking paws off me, you damn dirty ape!" I know that's not a really healthy attitude to have, and I should probably get over that, but I'm kinda too busy.

That leaves two solutions that I consider reasonable. One, get attacked by an octopus or squid, or two, spine removal. So if any of you can get your hands on a giant squid, let me know.

No Sleep 'til Ever Again

I used to love sleep. I would look forward to every nap opportunity. I would sleep past 10 as often as possible. I would yawn and whine about being tired most hours of the day. Sleeping was one of my favorite things to do.

Those days have passed. Now I can't afford to sleep. I'm too busy. I need that sleeping time to...read. Or watch TV. Wow, that's a lot more pathetic than I expected it to sound. But really, it's not like I'd spend all that extra time learning to be an architect or something. Wouldn't that be weird anyway, to be an architect by night? I mean, I'm weird, by not night-architecting weird.

There are some things that might change my mind about sleep. For instance, if sleep made amputated limbs grow back, then I would be all for it. But here I am, sleeping every day, and every morning I wake up without my left arm. Actually, that just happened this morning, and I have no idea how that happened.

I just did the math--I've spent 8 years of my life sleeping. Do you what I could have done with those 8 years? Neither do I, but I'm sure it would have been awesome! Eight whole years! Man, that sucks! And now I don't have an arm!

Vitamin-C-Induced Hallucinations

I'm about to take a serious overdose of Vitamin C. About 1,000 miligrams. That's one whole gram. Hopefully, this will prevent me from getting sick. But the main reason I'm having it is because I'm bored and I'm hoping it'll make the last hour more interesting. Here goes.

10 minutes later...

On the walk to the copier, my legs felt long and stretchy. I imagined myself wearing one of those tall, striped hats. The copier itself, however, was less than thrilling. It produced the 36 copies I asked for in excellent form. Now that I'm back at my desk, I feel slightly less fulfilled than before.

2 minutes after that...

I've discovered numerous mistakes that I've made before I took the vitamin C. It would seem that I am actually a more effective employee under the influence. However, I refuse to correct any of those mistakes.

Also, vitamin C does not make my hands any less cold and dry. Does this building have heat? No wonder I'm getting a cold.

15 additional minutes later...

If I ever quit this job, I've got to go out with a bang. So here's the plan. My last day, I'm gonna make three or four different fake treasure maps and give them to my coworkers. And I'll give 'em a note that explains how you have to decipher a series of clues to get to the treasure, but when you find it, you have to dig it up because it's buried. And while they're out hunting for the fake treasure, I'll take everything that's in alphabetical order and mix it up. Then I'll see what I can do about filling the office with llamas and balloons.

30 minutes into the future from now...

I'll fall asleep while driving on some side street and coast to a stop in the middle of an intersection right in front of the local marching band. Hopefully they'll carry me home in their tubas.

Get Low

I am shrinking. Well, not shrinking, but getting shorter. Shrinking implies that I'm getting smaller all around, but I'm only losing height. That's totally different. And I guess shrinking also implies that it's a continuing thing, but that's not true either. This was a one-time, two-inches-shorter-than-I-used-to-be deal.

Actually, maybe the world is just getting bigger than me. No, that's not it, because when I stop slouching the world goes back to its regular size. I guess it's better not to slouch--I don't want back problems. I'll need to be able to stand up as straight as possible so that no one notices I'm short now.

Next time you see me, try not to act surprised. I'm really sensitive about this.

Flu Shot Spectacular

Today is free flu shot day for my company. The line is long, as corporate America and fear of terrorism have duped many of my coworkers into taking the vaccination plunge. From what I understand of human psychology, people don't really understand how healthy a flu shot is. They just think anything that involves sticking a needle in your arm must be a good thing.

Well, in the interests of promoting public health, I did some research on the real effectiveness of flu shots to dispel all the rumors and brainwashing. And since wikipedia had nothing of interest to offer besides a picture of a Navy officer who got rabies or schizophrenia from the vaccine, all my information comes from up here (I'm pointing to my brain as I type that).

Welcome to your medical education.

FACT: The flu shot is not just water, though it tastes like salt water.
FACT: According to the American Lung Association, the flu shot will not kill you.
FACT: Old people will still receive their social security checks if they do not get their flu shot.
FACT: Even criminals on death row are allowed to get the flu shot.
FACT: When the flu shot supply runs out, there are no more flu shots.
FACT: The flu vaccine is transparent.

MYTH: The flu shot will turn you into a fire-breathing dragon.
MYTH: You will definitely die if you do not get the flu shot. (That's actually kind of true, though.)
MYTH: The flu shot is actually a mind-control device.
MYTH: The flu shot will end all your suffering and bring you eternal happiness.
MYTH: In light of the imminent apocalypse, whether you get a flu shot does not matter.
MYTH: The flu shot does not actually exist.

Mononucleosis

I don't remember ever feeling so much like mashed potatoes. My brain feels like gravy, though, so we go well together. It's like I'm one giant side-dish. Yuck.

Maybe I have mono. I can hardly conceive of how much that would suck. There would be a great many things I would rather have than mono. I would rather have a dozen mummies in my apartment. Actually, who wouldn't want that? Or, who wouldn't watch a sitcom about that? Nobody, that's who.

I hope the zombies will save me. I'm the one holding the sign that say "Eat My Brains, Please." But for now, I guess I'll party with the mononucleosis bacteria.

When Stunts Go Bad

Some of you may have been lucky enough to see When Stunts Go Bad and When Stunts Go Bad 2 in your lifetimes. I have. It's a defining experience.

An event I thought worth sharing was Gary Wells' attempt to jump over the fountains at Caesar's Palace in 1980. He crashed into a brick wall (I think), and, along with breaking several bones, separated his aorta from his heart--AND LIVED.

If you ever wonder whether or not you're invincible, I suppose that's the way to find out. If I thought I was invincible, I'd probably try something simple like smashing my hand with a hammer. Aorta separation is good too, but that's probably for the ones who are already pretty sure about their invincibility.

Notice Anything Different?

As of last night at about 10:10, I made a drastic change in my life. It may jar or frighten some of you, so you should probably sit down (but if you're standing while you're at your computer, we have different issues to discuss). Here it is:

I stopped wearing my "One" bracelet.

I wanted to know what it's like to be braceletless again. It's been probably almost two years now, and I can't remember what my right hand looked like without a white band around the wrist. But now that era is over. Now begins the era of liberty! My wrists will run wild and free!

I think my wrists are already growing. Pretty soon I might not be able to touch my thumb and middle finger around them. After that, I might be able to lift things! This is gonna be great!

Emergen-C

'Tis the season to start getting sick again. I almost have my first cold of the season, but I might have caught it early. Right now it's just an itch in the back of my throat, so if I use the right combat tactics, I'll feel fine tomorrow morning.

My first attack was this little powder packet of vitamin C called "Emergen-C." All you have to do is mix it in water and drink. Pretty easy.

The thing that amazes me about this thing is the nutrition label on the back. This little packet has 1,000 mg of vitamin C, accounting for 1,667% of your daily value. I have enough vitamin C in me now to last me almost 17 days! It also includes 500% of B6 and 417% of B12. I'll be sure to have another before I go.

Short People

I am not a tall person. I would describe myself as "average height." Maybe that's why I'm fascinated by short people (and concurrently wishing I was a little bit taller).

I speak not of midgets. Midgets are boring. (I'm sure they're great people, but this entry isn't about what people are like. It's about how tall they are.) Everybody talks about midgets. Big freaking deal. So you're three feet tall. I used to be three feet tall. I've been there. It's not that great.

I'm more interested in the 4'11" to 5'5" range. I don't know why. Can't explain it. Maybe it's an artistic obsession. Yeah, I think that's what I'll call it.

This post was inspired by someone questioning my awe over Matt Pryor's shortness. I responded to her accusations saying a bunch of stuff that included, "I love short people more than regular people." That was out of line, and I apologize. I love them both equally.

What the Human Body Means to Me

I went to that Body Worlds exhibit at the Science Museum last night. First of all let me say that science is useless. And now on with the story.

The exhibit was almost entirely boring. You see a lot of organs. Big deal. I can see organs in my 7th grade health textbook. And I would have gotten a better view in the textbook because I wouldn't be edged out and pushed around by the biggest, most obnoxious crowd ever.

There are also standing bodies in bizarre poses, and that was just confusing. One guy was in a running pose with all his muscles strung out off the skeleton in every direction. As far as I know, that never happens. There was also a body called "The Goalkeeper" who was posed in a sideways dive with a soccer ball in one hand and all his internal organs in the other. What's with that?

I won't say anything that I seriously thought about it, other than I was seriously indifferent and seriously unenlightened. And at the end we went to a gift shop, and I bought a shirt that said "Give a hoot, Don't pollute" because I like to rhyme.

Exhaustion

This morning I woke up and I could hardly move. My arms--both of them--were completely sore from tubing two days earlier. My back was completely sore for some unfathomable reason. Probably because I slept on a comfortable bed after sleeping on the floor for two days. Then I get to work only to find out that I have to work harder than ever before for the entire day. I did the math with a coworker, and we fiugred we had the equivalent of 5 people doing the work that 15 people are supposed to do. So I answered calls all day. It went something like this:

"Cigna Behavioral Health EAP message center, this is Ben, how can I help you? ... Well, actually I'm just the message center right now, so I can take your information and have someone call you back in less than an hour."

I said that nearly 50 times, perhaps more.


It's funny how that kind of stuff messes with my mind. It seems that I'm only inanely funny when nothing's going on. When days like this happen, I'm stuck in stupid reality. So here's what's going on in reality.

1. Just got back from Will's cabin in the mediocre state of South Dakota. The trip, unlike the state, was awesome. I got to experience Will gyrating, I got to hear "Can You Feel the Love Tonight" sung louder than I thought songs could be sung, and I got to partake in my first frisbee session in months. Some other great stuff happened too, but it's more important and serious, so you probably won't hear about it til I hit Retirement Town.

2. I have my Peace Corps interview tomorrow. If you don't have anything to pray for, you could pray for that. I'm not too nervous, but I'm worried that I will be nervous, and that's making me nervous. Dead serious. At least I took the day off for it and won't have to deal with answering calls.

It kinda sucks that real life has only two plot points. But I guess it's better than having too many.

On My Soon-To-Be-Amputated Leg

I keep my cell phone in my left pocket at all times (except when I'm sleeping), and it's beginning to take it's toll. The radiation is getting to me. In about 10-15 years, I'll probably have a tumor and have to lose the leg. So I want to get used to it now while I still can. That's why I'm going to the doctor's in two weeks to get it removed. I'll have a week off for physical therapy, and in about a month, I should be back to peak condition. Of course, I won't be able to play soccer as well as I used to, but I feel like I'd be better off leaving my promising soccer career behind for the sake of my future health and well-being. You guys are all welcome to visit me in the hospital, and I'd really appreciate it if you signed my prosthetic limb. It's like a cast, only creepier.