I’ve Been Hit By A Freight Train

I’ve been hit by a freight trained. Derailed off the course of life. I’ve been stopped dead in my tracks by the evil flu bug. It reared its ugly head earlier this week and is now charging full speed ahead and I don’t see it coming to a halt anytime soon. It has disrupted my daily routine. It has kept me home from work. It has left me wallowing in self-pity as I lay confined to either my bed or couch, while my puppy looks on with soulful eyes. I’m thinking I’ll be out of commission for about a week. He must sense this too as he leaves out a frustrated whine, he has lost his best play buddy. I haven’t had the flu this bad since I was in college and I carried a bucket with me in case I had to puke while waiting in line to register for my Spring classes. Back then, I remember feeling like I was going to die. Now, I wish someone would just kill me. Perhaps I’m just a baby, but I imagine lying on one’s death bed feels very similar. And if I am in fact on my death bed, I wish someone would just pull the plug, end this cruel suffering and put me out of my misery already.

Even my eyelashes hurt! And because of this, I will have to continue writing this post at a later time. Right now, I’m going to go enjoy some more fever induced hallucinations. Good times.

The Professor Is In

The Professor Is In

Well, I sure felt like a professor today, as I was a guest speaker in not one, but two classes in Temple University's Therapeutic Recreation department. The subject of my talks was accessibility, which is near and dear to me, of course, as it is the focus of my own master's research on urban parks. I did talk about park access, but I also spoke about access in other aspects of city life -- cultural institutions, sports facilities, hospitals, education, transportation, etc. In addition, I talked about the assistive technology I use on a daily basis.

The students asked a number of interesting questions, but my favorite came from a girl who asked if I go to parties on the weekend.

"No, not typically...Why, do you know of any? I'll give you my number," I said.

My nurse (who was thinking the same thing) nearly hit the floor, shocked at my newly-discovered bravado. It all comes with maturity, my friends. I am 30 years old, after all -- a fact which was surprising to one young female student.

"You don't act like you're 30," she told me.

I'll take that as a compliment! And if you know of any parties, you know where to find me...

Fan Mail

Fan Mail

I typically try to avoid responding to comments left on this blog. The reason is that everyone gets to hear my opinions whenever they visit the blog. The comment area is your area, where you can tell me that you love me and want to marry me (sorry, females only) or that you think I am the dumbest person on the face of the earth (sorry, no members of my family -- I already know that you think that). Unless comments are obscene in some way, they appear on this blog uncensored.

But every now and then, some comments require a response on my part. One of the goals of this blog is, after all, to help people in similar situations to mine. As it turns out, I have received a few such comments over the past few days. I would like to share them with you in this entry in case there's any advice that you, my readers, might be able to offer. Feel free to post a comment below...

NOTE: If you would like a personal response to your comments, please don't forget to include your e-mail address -- or send me an e-mail with your address by clicking on the link under my picture on the top right of this blog. Also, if you write to me seeking advice, I will do my best to provide it, based on my own personal experiences and what I may have heard from others. However, I am not a medical professional nor do I claim to be, so please consult with your doctor on any medical matters that I may discuss on this blog.

---

Original Comment #1:

"I recently got my trach inserted, after 19 years of DMD. It was a bit too early if you ask me, but completely necessary. I've been finding it really hard to talk, because I'm used to talking in normal, long sentences without breaks. Do you have to do this too, or is it just me?"

My Response:

"Welcome to the wonderful world of trachs! Certainly not a club that anyone would choose to belong to, but hopefully you will find in time that it's not as big of a deal as you might have imagined.

It's hard for me to completely answer your question because you did not say if you are using a ventilator. When my ventilator is connected, I can speak better than I had before getting the trach. Off of the ventilator, I can only speak when I have a Passy-Muir valve attached to the end of my trach. Then, it is much harder for me to speak in complete sentences.

I do know, however, that some people take some time to get used to speaking with a trach. They need to work on timing things just right. So, don't give up hope just yet. Make sure you talk to your doctor and he or she may be able to direct you to other medical professionals who deal with speech issues such as yours. Good luck!"

Original Comment #2:

"I have a trach too, and when I'm out and about, people tend to stare at me a lot. Does this happen to you as well? How do you deal with it? I've only had my trach for a few months and am still getting used to it. I'm used to a few stares because I've been in a wheelchair for most of my life, but when I got the trach, more people stared...probably because it's not something you see everyday. My nurse says to ignore it, but she just doesn't understand. I'm only 18, and I feel like one of those really old people who live in nursing homes...do you have these feelings too? I try and put on a brave face, but it isn't hiding what I feel inside!"

My Response:

"To be honest, I don't notice as many stares as I thought I would. I think a part of it is that people may be staring, but I am oblivious to it. When I do notice people staring at me, I start talking more loudly to my nurse or whomever is with me, so the people staring at me will realize that I am a person just like they are.

I think that you are correct when you say that people look at you because they don't typically see people with trachs. Putting on a "brave face" as you say, is probably the best thing you can do in many cases. Then you can go and vent your frustration to people like me, who understand.

And don't forget, you have only had your trach for a short while. The longer you have it, the more confident you will grow and you will come up with your own way of dealing with the reaction of people who encounter you. Best of luck to you!"

Original Comment #3:

"I read your blog all the time. I'm a 14 year old girl with spinal muscular atrophy. I'm in a wheelchair and have a ventilator. When you were in high school, did people stare and make fun of you too? No one treats me as an equal. some girls think that because I have a hearing aid, I'm completely deaf, and they talk about me even when I'm around. I'm pretty good with getting around my school, but people treat me like I'm retarded. They talk really slowly and loudly because i can't say full sentences in one breath. does this happen to you? I'm really confused and lonely, because I don't know anyone in the same situation as me. I'm the only kid in a wheelchair at my school, and I live in a small town, so I don't see many other disabled kids at all. You seem like such a understanding guy, like you've been through so much. can you give me some advice? thanks for being a great inspiriation."

My Response:

"It's nice to have such a loyal reader. Although I did not have a trach or ventilator when I was in high school, it was not necessarily an easy time. While nobody made fun of me, I did feel socially isolated. Like you, I did not know anybody else in my school in the same situation.

I'm sorry to hear that you're having such a difficult time. Have you joined any online groups for people with your disability? I think that could be very helpful to you in light of the fact that you live in a small town and are not able to interact with other girls who are going through similar issues.

How are your grades in school? If you do well in school, you'll be able to show your able-bodied classmates that you are as smart, if not smarter, than they are. Plus, you will hopefully be able to get into college as a result, and you'll have a clean slate and can meet people who will respect you for who you are."

Antique Anti-Masturbation Device

You know the old saying..."Everytime you masturbate God kills a kitten." Well from my understanding, a kitten has never died due to someone jerking it. And as far as I know, neither has a person. Unless of course you are talking about those freaks with that suffocation fetish where they choke themselves out with a belt around their throat just when they are ready to...well, you know. Now I can’t speak for all women, but if you are a guy and you claim you’ve never spanked it – YOU ARE A LIAR! I don’t care if you are getting laid on a regular basis or not, every guy plays with it now and then. It’s just how it is. However, in some religions and cultures masturbation is forbidden! So what do all of those pre-pubescent boys do? Well they turn to eBay and bid on an antique anti-masturbation device of course.

This circa 1880 anti-masturbation device was up for auction on eBay earlier in February. The starting bid was $1,500 and sold for just under $3,000.

From the auction listing:
EXTREMELY RARE ANTI MASTURBATION DEVICE DATING FROM c1880. THE COPPER SHAPED DEVICE WAS ATTACHED TO A BELT AND WORN BY BOYS AS A MEANS OF PREVENTING NOCTURNAL EMISSIONS. VERY MUCH AN INDICATION OF SOCIETIES VIEWS ON ONANISM IN THE 19TH CENTURY. THIS IS THE FIRST EXAMPLE WE HAVE OFFERED FOR SALE IN 24 YEARS. THE CONDITION IS EXCELLENT 3 ½ INCHES TOP TO BASE.

Huh, nocturnal emissions? I’ll need to reference Dictionary.com for this. I’m guessing that would be a wet dream? And what is onanism? (Nevermind, I looked it up. It means to pull out during intercourse.) Stop using these big words! These poor pre-pubescent boys are going out of their mind from not being allowed to spank their monkey as it is, so why turn up the cruelty meter and throw unknown vocab at them?

Can you imagine strapping on a "used" sexual device? And even more shocking, who’s junk can fit into a compartment that is only 3 ½ inches in size? Damn! If you’re only 3 ½ inches long, you have bigger problems than not being allowed to masturbate. Sorry kido.

Saving Your Beloved Laptop At All Costs

Let’s face it. Apple’s new ultrathin, ultraportable, ultra sexy Macbook Air laptop is awful pretty. And Charlie Rose’s face...well not so pretty...and that’s on a good day. So what about when he is black and blue, bloody and swollen? Charlie Rose’s black eye and forehead injury are not from an interview subject fed up with Rose's incessant talking. It's actually from his valiant attempt to save his precious MacBook Air! It’s been reported that Rose tripped on a 59th Street pothole in NYC while carrying a newly purchased MacBook Air. He made a quick, but ultimately flawed, decision while falling (although Mac addicts would argue it was a smart move). He decided to sacrifice the face to protect the computer. In doing so, he pretty much hit the pavement face first. And for those of you that are concerned, the Macbook Air is fine, with the exception of a few blood stains on it.

Like myself, Charlie Rose has a hardcore fetish for gadgets. However, I’m not sure I would eat cement in order to save my Dell Inspiron widescreen laptop. Don’t get me wrong, I love my new laptop, I just feel kind of attached to my front teeth.

How far have you gone, or would you go, to save your laptop or other precious gadget?

The Red Leather Diary

I like the feeling of a pen between my fingers and paper beneath my palm. So I began carrying a Moleskin notebook with me, in case a creative juice begins to flow, I’ll have somewhere to capture it. Like right now, for whatever reason, "fallen rose pedals, soft pink bubble gum and the breeze from a butterfly’s flutter" are the words that are currently running thru my head. I have a passion for writing and because of that, I am highly tempted to sell my business and pursue a career as a freelance writer in NYC. I’m aware that I would make significantly less money, live in a smaller place and live a simpler life, but I think following my heart would make me happy. I keep pushing that dream to the backburner and letting it simmer. Why? I guess I don’t really have an answer for that, other than perhaps the fear of failure. I question whether or not it’s smart to discard something I’m highly talented at doing for something I may only possess a small amount of talent for. I try to reason it out. I try to rationalize it. Instead of just making it a reality. Sometimes I think I look to some higher power, like show me a sign. And although some signs are there, I still seem to make excuses to not follow. The story below is just another reason why I carry a Moleskin notebook with me and it’s yet another sign of perhaps why I should follow a dream, no matter how crazy people may think I am for doing so.

Rescued from a Dumpster on the Upper West Side of Manhattan, a discarded diary brings to life the glamorous, forgotten world of an extraordinary young woman. For more than half a century, the red leather diary lay silent, languishing inside a steamer trunk, its worn cover crumbling into little flakes. When a cleaning sweep of a New York City apartment building brings this lost treasure to light, both the diary and its owner are given a second life.

Recovered by Lily Koppel, a young writer working at the New York Times, the journal paints a vivid picture of 1930s New York-horseback riding in Central Park, summer excursions to the Catskills, and an obsession with a famous avant-garde actress. From 1929 to 1934, not a single day's entry is skipped.

Opening the tarnished brass lock, Koppel embarks on a journey into the past, traveling to a New York in which women of privilege meet for tea at Schrafft's, dance at the Hotel Pennsylvania, and toast the night at El Morocco. As she turns the diary's brittle pages, Koppel is captivated by the headstrong young woman whose intimate thoughts and emotions fill the pale blue lines. Who was this lovely ingénue who adored the works of Baudelaire and Jane Austen, who was sexually curious beyond her years, who traveled to Rome, Paris, and London?

She writes about her passions, about love, about books, music, art and writing. These are just a few of my favorite exerts...

• "Hours repairing torn music books and they look perfectly hideous with adhesive plastered all over them, but what beauty within. My love is so sporadic."
• "Have stuffed myself with Mozart and Beethoven. I feel like a ripe apricot - I’m dizzy with the exotic."
• "Went to the Museum of Modern Art today. Sheer jealousy. I can’t even paint an apple yet. It’s heartbreaking!"
• "Slept with Pearl tonight. It was beautiful. There is nothing so gratifying as physical intimacy with one you like."
• "Wrote all day - and my story is still incomplete."

Compelled by the hopes and heartaches captured in the pages, Koppel sets out to find the diary's owner, her only clue the inscription on the frontispiece - "This book belongs to...Florence Wolfson." A chance phone call from a private investigator leads Koppel to Florence, a ninety-year-old woman living with her husband of sixty-seven years. Reunited with her diary, Florence ventures back to the girl she once was, rediscovering a lost self that burned with artistic fervor.

Joining intimate interviews with original diary entries, Koppel reveals the world of a New York teenager obsessed with the state of her soul and her appearance, and muses on the serendipitous chain of events that returned the lost journal to its owner. Evocative and entrancing, The Red Leather Diary re-creates the romance and glitter, sophistication and promise, of 1930s New York, bringing to life the true story of a precocious young woman who dared to follow her dreams. Visit www.redleatherdiary.com

Related post of interest...

• 1/1/08 - Proving Myself Wrong

A Bizarre Unknown Incoming Txt

From: ***-***-****

FWD: God saw u struggling. God says its over. A blessing is comin ur way. If u believe.

Tue, Mar 18, 11:00 pm

This is the txt message I received tonight out of the blue on my cell phone. I have no idea who it’s from and it didn’t allow me to reply to it. Weird? I would say so, especially considering it arrived at this rather "interesting" time in my life.

So is it a message from God? Or is it your standard spam? It's probably just spam. Actually, I’m sure that's all it is. But still, you have to admit that it is pretty bizarre.

And I always figured if God ever wanted to talk to me, he would shoot a bolt of lightning down, something flashy and dramatic to catch my attention. Or maybe he would go the more subtle route. Maybe he would leave me a voice mail message or even e-mail me. I never thought he would be a txter though. Hmm.

Related post of interest...

• 9/21/05 - Hi God, It's Me. Are You Busy?

Author! Author!

Author! Author!

When I began writing my autobiography nearly 2 1/2 years ago, it was hard to imagine that the day when I would actually see it in print for the first time. That happened today at my inaugural book signing party, and as you can see in one of the slides below, it was an extremely happy moment for me. Unfortunately, the copy of my book that I received today was the only one in the building! Thanks to Mother Nature, 500 copies of Worth the Ride: My Journey with Duchenne Muscular Dystrophy were left without a ride due to a powerful snowstorm that closed the airport in Louisville, Kentucky, home to UPS's distribution hub.

But the show must go on, as they say, so we celebrated anyway. We had food -- highlighted by a delicious cake in the design of the cover of my book -- and drinks. A few nice speeches were delivered and I even read excerpts from my book. The event was well-attended, with an estimated 300 guests. The best news of the day was the 230 book orders! That was in addition to about 130 online orders, so we are well on the way to selling out the first print run.

So despite our little weather mishap, I was pretty happy by day's end. Sure, it's quite an accomplishment for me personally, but even greater is the potential that this book has to help countless other families dealing with Duchenne's and to create public awareness of the disease.

Party Time!

Party Time!

Every year, I talk about doing something exciting for my birthday and never follow through. This year was going to be different and indeed it was, as I celebrated tonight at a local restaurant with a group of friends, some of whom I have known since I was a young child and some of whom I've only gotten to know recently.

The weather conditions outside may have been awful, but that didn't stop anyone from being there with me. One friend even traveled all the way from New Hampshire for the occasion. And although I insisted on no gifts, four of my friends with whom I graduated high school got together and decided they all wanted to take me to a Phillies game this season, so I am looking forward to that. But I was truly touched by the kindness of all of my friends, who made my 30th birthday celebration a night to remember.

Identity Crisis

About 2 years ago I met a girl from NYC, who unknown to her, taught me a valuable lesson. Discretion. It’s not that I didn’t know the meaning of being discreet, it was more that I didn’t always apply a level of discreetness in my life that perhaps I should have. I could use the phrase that "I was young, dumb and full of c...", but I think my immaturity and my hormone surges were only half of it. I was in college and craving attention. Attention not just from girls, but attention from the guys as well - to boost my social status. I suppose looking back I shouldn’t be so hard on myself. All guys brag and boast to a point, the point being where does it end? It ended for me when I began approaching my mid-twenties. One night stands and random hook-ups started to look cheap. Getting wasted and acting like an idiot started to look pathetic. I was growing up from the frat boy on spring break who was lost among a sea of boobs and booze, to dare I say, a decent and respectable young man? When I wasn’t studying or playing basketball, I would spend my free time fraternizing with those that most likely went on to grace the upcoming year’s cover of a "Girls Gone Wild" DVD. I would return each semester to campus greeted by high-fives for concurring the previous semester’s easiest lays. Today, those "achievements" are not impressive to me.

At the end of 4 years, I graduated from college knowing more about myself than perhaps the amount of knowledge I digested from text books and class lectures combined. What I learned were things that a professor couldn’t teach me. Sometimes you grow best on your own. And sometimes you need to find that one girl who helps you grow into the man you never dreamed you could be. I was lucky enough to find such a girl during my college years and to this day, I cherish every minute I spent with her. She was my first true love. Sadly though, a year after graduation we parted ways, but I still carry with me the things she’s taught me and we have managed to remain close friends. Despite the fact that she once broke my heart, I have always credited her for changing my life for the better and will continue to do so until the day I die.

It wasn’t until she came along that I wanted to be safe from all the stupid questions like "hey man, did you get some?" "That’s so dumb", I would think as I rolled my eyes. For the first time in my life, it wasn’t about getting laid. Just the mere thought of telling my buddies what we did the night before seemed so slimey and wrong. To kiss and tell, I just couldn’t do it anymore. I had no right to share a story that most likely would be exaggerated just to make things sound extra dirty or juicer than they really were. Why should my buddies get the privilege of knowing a girl’s inner most secrets and sexual escapades that I was dating? I would not tell these tales, nor would I fabricate a tale just for their own devious pleasure. I did not need their approval. I did not need their pats on the back. From now on I was practicing discretion and it felt good. It felt really, really good. They say good things happen when you make good choices and I choose to keep our intimacy just that – intimate. I no longer sought attention from my peers. Instead, I turned my attention solely on her.

When I browse thru blogs, I’ve come to realize that many people still seek that attention. Let’s be honest, running a blog in itself is a bit narcistic to begin with. Narcissism is something I would not like to be associated with. Spend any amount of time with me and you will soon realize, I would much rather hear about you than talk about myself. It’s sort of a double edged sword in the sense that although I choose to be somewhat mysterious and keep a certain degree of anonymousness in my life, I also feel the need to bleed myself out at times and allow raw emotions and thoughts to pour out of me and into this blog. The power and manner in which I open up varies from the trickling drip-drop of a leaky faucet to the powering gush of a broken dam. It’s often difficult to predict the speed or intensity of this outpouring until I’ve put it down on paper.

Believe it or not, I actually signed up for a Blogger account in 2002, but never made a single entry post until 3 years later in 2005! Why? Because I hated the narcistic persona that was tied to bloggers and blogging. I didn’t want classified into that group. That stereotype alone kept me from writing for 3 solid years. I would even form a pseudo name "DIAMONDKT", to further protect my identity and shield myself from the misrepresentation that it’s all about me, me, me. Because of this, my intent at the time was to not compose personal entries, but to write about tech news. Somewhere along the way I noticed people being more intrigued by my side comments and my sense of humor, rather than my journalistic style of reporting. Somewhere among the accolades, I began sharing pieces of myself. Pieces of my life, of the lessons I have learned and of the pain that brought me to understanding those teachings.

Along this journey I’ve come to realize its ok to be me, to be true to myself. Just use some discretion when I choose to tell a story because it’s not always about "me". Other people are involved in this thing called my life. Personally, I find the "gift of gab" ruins intimacy in a relationship. If I wanted the world to know my business, I would tell them myself. Demonstrating discretion, I find it to be an incredibly smart and sexy trait she displays. And I thank her for showing me how to apply discretion to my own life and to our "little thing". Although I'll admit, it was hard not to brag about you, even if it was just to my Mom.

My New Wheels

My New Wheels

Last March, I told you with great excitement about the new wheelchair I had just ordered. Well, believe it or not, a year later, I can finally report that I am now in it! Why the delay, you may be wondering, when I had been told that it would take only an estimated three to four months?

It's quite a long story, so I'll spare the details. Suffice to say that it began with an insurance snafu. My favorite part was when I received a form letter asking why I couldn't use a walker or cane instead of a motorized wheelchair! A call to an insurance company nurse and all was well -- or so I thought.

You see, back when my physical therapist ordered the chair, a TDX 4 (which stands for "Total Driving Experience") by Invacare, he ordered a mini-joystick from a company called ASL. It was that joystick that I have on my old chair, which made driving a pleasure again after so many years of struggling to drive a chair. But as he and I both later learned, the joystick from ASL was incompatible with the electronics on the TDX.

As a result, the medical equipment vendor through which the chair was purchased, ordered an alternative type of joystick. However, I could not safely or reliably maneuver the chair because that joystick was not sensitive enough for me. Obviously, you can't have much of a "driving experience" when you can't drive your chair! However, the folks at ASL were able to come through for us big-time, modifying their mini-joystick to work with the electronics on the TDX (Thanks, James!)

Driving my chair today with the mini-joystick, I was pleased for the first time during this extremely long process. But as with any new wheelchair, it's going to take me some time to get used to it, especially because it is a center-wheel drive chair and all I've ever known is a rear-wheel drive chair. It's amazing how the new chair is able to turn practically on a dime. Maybe now I won't kill myself when I attempt to board a train, like I did this past summer!

For now, though, I'll settle for being able to steer straight (not easy) -- and for enjoying my new chair's recline feature. As a matter of fact, I think I'll do that right now -- I could use a little catnap! Talk to you soon...

Celebrating in Style

Celebrating in Style

What better way to celebrate turning the big 3-0 than with a TV appearance on the local Fox affiliate's morning program, "Good Day Philadelphia," to talk about my book?

Well, that's just what happened, and it was quite a thrill! The only thing that didn't thrill me was that I had to wake up at 6 a.m. to get there in time. I don't think I've seen 6 a.m. for at least a few years, except for waking up, seeing the clock, and going back to sleep! Everything happened so fast that I hardly had a chance to open my eyes -- well, except for the traffic on the Schuylkill Expressway. That didn't move too fast. But I arrived at the studio at exactly 8 a.m. I was whisked inside, where a Fox 29 staffer informed me that I was scheduled to appear live on the air at 8:23 a.m.

That's precisely what happened. You can see my interview with Sheinelle Jones above. Note the birthday cake that was given to me at the end of the interview. As it turned out, I was actually on the air for a full three minutes, which is spectacular by TV standards!

As it was so early, my nurse and I decided to go find some breakfast. Problem was that we couldn't find any place in the area that actually served breakfast and when we did, the establishments we came across in Philadelphia's Olde City neighborhood were inaccessible. So we settled for some fast food and called it a day, er morning.

I spent much of my 30th birthday fielding congratulatory phone calls and answering
e-mails, but mostly just trying to stay awake at the computer. I had a nice, low-key dinner with my family, followed by the cake I had received earlier in the day.

Turning 30 is a milestone for most people, but especially for me. I doubt that anyone would have predicted I'd still be around more than 25 years after being diagnosed with Duchenne's. Still, my feelings are mixed because it's hard to predict the future and there is so much more I want to accomplish.

There will be more celebratory activities this weekend, because how many times do you turn 30, after all? But for now, I'm going to bed -- it has been a long day!

I Would Be A Professional SnowBum, If It Paid Well

While everyone else is complaining about the snow and asking when Spring will arrive to melt it away, I’m looking at things completely different. I love the snow! I often pray it never ends. Like a child waiting to hear if there is a 2 hour school delay or cancelation, I too rush to turn on the TV for the latest wintery weather report. While most people are bracing for the storm, I’m embracing it. I’m not looking to skip work, but I am looking to head to the mountains. I want to snowboard the day away and to keep riding late into the night. I’ve been snowboarding for about 10 years now and each time I go, I think I fall deeper in love.

There’s nothing like standing on top of a mountain and looking over the earth covered in a blanket of white. It’s a beautiful sight to see. It’s so peaceful and calming. Silent and still. It’s my definition of serenity. I think part of the reason why I enjoy it so much is because its a total disconnect from the electronic world, the world my profession is tied so tightly to. And its a reconnect into the real world, a connection with nature in its purest state. I love the fact that my cell phone often loses signal in the mountains, the high elevation makes no difference. It gives me even more reason to leave it and my laptop behind. I don’t want bothered with e-mails and conference calls. I don’t even want my phone to beep with txt messages. The only sounds I want to hear is the back edge of my board cutting thru the snow and the crisp air whistling thru the knitting of my beanie.

Snowboarding is classified as an extreme sport and while it delivers that adrenaline rush my body craves, I also find it to be incredibly relaxing. When so many things in my everyday life leave me feeling numb, snowboarding makes me feel alive again. While it exhilarates my soul, it somehow puts my mind in a zen-like state. It’s a total workout for the mind, body and spirit.

It goes without saying that spending 10 hours carving down a snow covered mountain in sub zero temps will leave even the most physically fit person with a few aches and pains. However, I find it to be a small price to pay. In fact, I often feel like I’ve just come home from a weekend spa retreat. I may feel exhausted, but it’s a good exhaustion. It’s the kind of exhaustion that leaves you feeling happy, almost rejuvenated. It's similar to marathon sex, but with much more clothing on.

Hitting up the local ski resorts is fun and all, but I need something more. So I started going to snowboard parks where I could drop into halfpipes, slide across rails and grab big air off of launch ramps. That satisfied my urge for awhile, but I still feel the need to progress further. I’m giving some serious thought to taking one of those extreme adventure vacations where they basically drop you out of a helicopter in the Swiss Alps and from there you have to snowboard your way down the mountains. Just the thought of that gets my blood pumping with energy and excitement! The only thing left to do now is finding some friends crazy enough to do it with me. To risk life and limb for the feeling of being alive, being truly alive.

Any takers?

Need a House?

Need a House?

Things have gone so well on my vacation over the past week that I'm ready to move out. And with me out of the house, I'm figuring that they can sell it because it's too big of a house for two people. So I thought I would give them a hand with putting it out on the market, as you can see from the photo above.

Okay, so I'm kidding! I put the sign up as a practical joke to welcome my parents home tonight. But the truth is that I would like to live independently someday. I'm not sure if I will actually be able to make it happen, but I will never abandon the idea as long as I live -- which might not be very long after my parents see that sign!