I have a grand total of 0 followers, which I'm happy about, because this can be more like an online Journal I'll never lose rather than an insight into my "feelings", whatever those are. Mostly gay from what I read about that trip to California. Weird how one generation calls it love, another generation calls it homosexuality. I laugh and punch millennials. My generation doesn't get it. I learned that 0.45% serve in the armed forces, and a special bond is formed amongst those that get the opportunity to serve side by side that is rarely seen outside of the 11 bang bangs. Cops get it, Firemen get it, Nurses and Doctors kinda get it, but it amounts to love, which we can't talk about. We just get it. We know, and there's nothing wrong with expressing it, but it makes everyone uncomfortable so how about instead, we crack open a brick of beer and give each other a head nod, cheers to those who aren't there and have a few more.
This week I hit new highs in the gym though, which I'm stoked about. I was looking over my baselines from early August and into September, benching just the bar was. a. struggle. HOLY BALLS that shit killed me. I mean, like, imagine going from 4 plates on each side with 3 people spotting you for a set of 5 to asking a 13 yr old child who's balls just dropped last month if he can spot you and the feather you're about to press. "Brian, stop being so dramatic". Hey, I'd kick your ass if I wasn't 18 lbs. So I went from that to having a grown man spotting me with 225 this week. It was a helluva struggle to get it up, but afterwards the dude high fives me and was like FUCK YAH BRAH!! So, like "welcome back to bro-town"? Not quite. Let me explain.
Bro-Town is this place that exists everywhere. It's kinda like Jesus. You see another christian because they display their religion with pride; tattoos, crosses dangling, bibles, surrounded by small children etc. A Bro usually works hard on their body and so displays it for the world to see and eat up like eye candy. So when two bros wearing tanks cross paths it's like a little rip in the space-time continuum occurs and they're both transported to Bro-Town. While in Bro-Town, they size each other up and determine if they would make a good wingman, if they would be good in a bar fight, if they would be excellent at high fives and drinking cheap booze and romancing the ladies. If there is an obvious YES to any of these, the aforementioned rift closes and both are transported back to Earth and one will give a head nod, or a "sup" or "yo" or any combination of those as if to say "Your Broness is worthy of my respect, Bro". This is how it goes. Don't believe me? Venture to Castaways on North Ave Beach to watch this phenomena occur at an alarming rate. It's quite beautiful actually. However, I am not yet bro-worthy because in the gym it is measured by how far over 2 plates on each side you can go. Rifts open, weird shit happens, and you become a tanner, shinier, more confident individual once this happens. Almost, but not quite there yet.
So I look forward to when my Bro-Town moment happens and I'll be sure to report it in some form or another.
Oh man, spending money. It's like the number one cause of divorce. So, don't be poor or your significant other will probably not love you for worse. Since I have no gf, I have minimal responsibilities this holiday season. I was able to dump almost everything not into bills, but rather people! Well, actually pretty much only family. My sister is hard to shop for since her B-Day is the day after christmas, it's like oh, she gets half on christmas and half on her birthday. Kinda totally unfair, but it is what it is haha. Still love her. Got her some cool stuff, took care of mom and dad too. Then my surrogate brother Danny decided he wants to marry this girl, so I gotta get him something and now her too. Boom, got em! Then I can't forget my other surrogate brother, who happens to be his actual blood brother matt, who's married with a little girl. Had some help there, but got the little one something too. I figure, be positive and give as much as possible and perhaps I'll have better fortunes in return, like holy shit, if I'm this good and nice and don't get arrested for beating up an abusive bf or whatever, and I get cancer again i'll fucking die on purpose so I can go kick death and the dude upstair right in the junk. I mean, I wasn't a freaking angel, I missed some birthdays, christmas' and such so my goal is to not miss anymore and stave off some real detrimental stuff. Stay positive. Work on my terrible writing. Stop staring at every chicks ass as they walk by me in this starbucks. Start eating more pizza, and most importantly get a freaking college degree. And enjoy the little things. Oh, and date more. I like getting dressed up and fancy and eating some good stuff. Although I'm dating this girl somewhat exclusively now and trying to figure out how it all works again. I haven't been on the market since like March 2013, so.....i'm figuring it all out again.
Speaking of online dating, wow. I saw a friend of mine when I was downtown a few weeks ago and it seems like dudes enjoy shooting off dick pics like it's a casual thing. I mean, what's the point of even wearing clothes if you're just gonna let your weird man log just flop out onto someones phone? Put it away. Gross. No, i don't do that, once I'm back into shape, shirtless selfies are great for everyone, but ill keep the pants on yo. Weirdos. She told me some truly horrifying stories that kind of makes me wonder how women aren't terrified of every man ever! So I was also turned onto a few apps where you can like whomever you desire, and they can like you back, but unless its a match and the woman messages you first, you're stuck swiping for love, hoping you get that one girl that's like meh, ok. Which saves me from sending a million emails every day. But ladies, get a grip. Yeah, you're a hot commodity but don't initiate conversation with "hey". You look like a brick wall. "but i'm shy". That's adorable. Go away. If I'm gonna put in the effort to scan your pics and profile and comment on them and ask you questions, at least be interesting enough to do the same. Minus all the dick pics, i'd wanna be a chick on the inter webs for a day, like for realz. I feel like I would probably start changing the world, one tiny dick at a time (because guys will always send dick pics).
Ok, enough blah blah blah, maybe one of these days I'll start writing short stories of some kind. Be ready to be entertained. That is all.
Tuesday, December 15, 2015
Tuesday, November 17, 2015
1 Year Anniversary, where's my underwear???
Holy hell, it's been a year. unbelievable. I didn't even realize it, but after I completed my shuffle down the stairs to get some breakfast going I noticed a package wrapped up and had a note on it. Figured it was for my mom from my dad, or vice versa and out of my cat like curiosity and the need to know about everything that's going on (gossip is more valuable than gold ladies) I read the note. Oh SNAP! I got excited like a kid on Christmas, because I'm basically like 5 years old and haven't figured out how to put my clothes away on the same day I do my laundry yet, and I'm just fine not picking up after myself if someone is there to do it.....because i'm a child. But I was SOOOOOO excited, like I just took a dozen adderall and chased it with red bull (probably not a good idea, unless you want your heart to explode) but I think you get it. So the note said something about how a year ago I had my transplant, so this is technically my birthday since all of my old stem cells were killed off and replaced with someone else's. I'll go into that in a bit. So I immediately put the package in the freezer, because Fannie Mae doesn't make you unwrap the gift to know whats inside, they were mint meltaways if you were as curious as I. SOOOOO, they need to be frozen in order to snap off the outer layer of mint or whatever god substance is on there, and taken apart piece by piece. Obviously. Keep up, because I'm not going to repeat this. I'm high as hell on caffeine right now, and this may end up all over the place, but whatever.
So then I'm like, perfect. Although I forgot about my anniversary my mom didn't and apparently God, or Buddha, or Rick James or whatever you believe in thought to schedule my OrangeTheoryFitness challenge today as well. Trying to get a job after not having the cranial capacity to learn anything new limits your options when trying to get a job again, but when you commit to something like Physical Therapy, you have to take baby steps and of course surround yourself with people that have similar objectives. Going forward and pursuing a sales job at a tech company couldn't be further from where I need to be, so I turned down money for the education or whatever. Sounds noble right? Good, because it's all about perception at this point. I like to help people and everyone kinda helped me through it, so I'm gonna take a few minutes to heap praise on everyone that I can think of, because that's fair and mandatory. When someone helps you, you're supposed to say thank you. And bringing girls flowers isn't such a bad thing either, try it, I bet that girl hasn't gotten flowers in forever and will love you for it!! Oh, they usually love Starbucks too, so flowers and starbucks will get you a second date. I digress. Here's my overly emotional love list to everyone that said or did something to help me out along the way. Most of them don't know about this blog anyhow, so that's good because i feel like a hipster writing my feelings down. Here we go!
Danny - Called or texted or communicated in some form every day. Most days in the hospital I preferred to be left alone and fight my battle solo. But this dude was not about to let that happen. I've also known him since the day I was born and grew up down the street and fought with him and lived some pretty awesome adventures with him. He's my weaker, less aggressive, yet super competitive brother from another mother. There was a point when I couldn't eat. I was on maybe 20 pills at the height of the big pharma push to medicate everything away. Granted meds are awesome for some things, but for eating and pain I just hate taking them. So I discussed this with Danny one day, and he's like "you know what you need to do" and I did. But in Illinois it wasn't legal. So the doc gave me a little THC pill that was supposed to stimulate appetite. Didn't work. Danny sent me money via PayPal and I got my own source of THC that was much more effective than some fabricated junk. THEN, as if he could do more, he did. My birthday in April I spent in the hospital, unable to eat thanks to nasty medical garbage which was eventually blamed on all the pills I'd been taking, they drilled a hole in my stomach and put a tube in there to feed me. I mean, they went in through the "NO-GO" hole, but thankfully I was sedated. I woke up feeling like I'd been in prison in a bad way, and had a tube sticking out of me. I eventually got home, but for my birthday he sent me Pink Beats Wireless headphones for working out! WTF!! keep in mind, he's a Joo, and I've never received a gift from him in my life, and neve really gave him anything either, cause we're not gay. But it made my life so much better. I took them everywhere, I listed to music for the first time in like 4 months while I used his "feed me" fund to get stoned and then attack the shit out of foods that would ultimately make the butthole sore but I'll be damned if it didn't feel GREAT going down. Once, I ate a pound of sugar in one day. High as a kite. But guess what. The pain was all gone, I could eat, I was happy and in good spirits, I was terrified, however of the big fucking snake that kept chasing me on the wall. Which is a total bitch when you can't walk and have an IV attached to you. I fell, all the time running from that monster. There was one time when the monster from Alien came after me while I was on the toilet, it just came out of the toilet and stared at me. He talked. He sounded like Stewie Griffin. It was a good relaxing moment. I spent about 2 hours talking to James the Alien that day. Thanks Danny. He's my best friend, my brother and someone I idolize, yet when that pretentious Apple job gets the best of him, i'll choke him the fuck out and bring his ass down to earth in a gloriously painful yet loving way. Violently. Thanks man.
Momma Kate - Where to begin with this lady. HOLY. SHIT. I mean, she's the mother of Danny so obviously she's got a heart of gold to love such an ugly child right? haha totally kidding, but she can't come down and kick my ass so i'll hide behind this keyboard here and take pot shots! NO, again, totally kidding! As a kid she invited me to all the birthdays that were attended by all these smart kids from the private school. I was all about football, WWF wrestling, and my penis. They were all about math, science and computers. Some of the kids I was allowed to talk to, but those birthday parties were honestly the best. Pizza for days, arcade games and laser tag! WHAT?! I'd kill to do that tNOW, but we got lucky and did that when we were like 8-13. She made everything awesome. She brought the neighborhood together for block parties, wine gatherings, and holiday parties. She took care of me when I was a kid, make us all get outside and play street hockey, or invite us to play with the big kids and not let them say no. I mean, I'd get sent home for playing too rough on more than one occasion, but only because I never learned. She really treated me like one of her own, which was completely unnecessary but totally standard for her to just love everyone and everything. So through the ups and downs in my life, she's been there with a kind word, or a kick in the butt when I needed it. Lump it on top of my mom's swift kicks, it was rough having 2 moms, I'll leave it at that. But when I was in the hospital she came to visit me! She's a busy woman, with lots of volunteer work going on and programs she runs but took the time out to come and see me. At first I was mad, I didn't want anyone to see me so weak and feeble. But hell, if there was going to be one person that i'd let in besides my mom and dad and sister, she'd be the one. We had a good time, she scolded anyone that denied me anything and through a food fiasco where it took them 3 hours to get me a meal. She got after the nurse so hard that I felt like....oh man, this woman is gonna pull the plug on me when you leave, ease up. But guess what, it got her to act and I got a meal. After that, I never waited 15 minutes for a meal. I'd loose a bunch of weight and she'd be there to text or stop by the house to demand I eat. She cooked meals to make me eat and all that, practically forcing food down my throat, but hey it worked. Between that and casual conversations keeping me up to date on the goings on of the neighborhood and such it was just amazing to have her on my support team. Oh and I went up to the bakehouse of course, and the food was just like heaven. Such a great time. Always. If you don't have a second mom, go adopt one, because the more the merrier!
Guna Platoon - I can't just single out everyone because I already hate writing this blog and that would literally take forever, going on trips down memory lane and such. Well, these guys were my brothers and saw me every day and we would have literally caught a bullet in the face for our brothers. There might have been a few shit bags, and maybe some of those shit bags are the reason I no longer have a military career, but hey, I'm not salty, but if I ever see one of those pricks, i'll beat him like he owes me his soul. But the rest of the platoon was just freaking amazing. We still communicate through thick and thin. Some of us are getting thick and some are just wicked thin these days. Guys are having kids and getting married and some are even still in the service, trying to get to that 20 year mark. Some live in hawaii and should be castrated for having so much fun. boohoo. hahah, of course I kid, I love these men. I received care packages, friendly insults, invites to AA meetings (they claimed I was substance abuser of Chemo), words of encouragement, stories of how i did some cool shit, how I was a good soldier (that'll never be hard to hear), how they named an exercise after me because I might have been such a smart ass. Stronger or Smarter they said, What's your old lady's number? I'd ask. I was stronger. I climbed a 50 ft rope upside down with a combat load on as punishment, dragged an LMTV tire all over the place, carried a 5 gallon jug around, crab walked for miles, did handstands for hours on end, stood at attention in ceremonial blues with rifle and the list goes on. If you could do all that and then have the balls to call your squad leader a a tiny girl in a big body or whatever, knowing you'd get the shit smoked out of you, you can beat this stupid shit. They were right. Chris would send pics of his deer kills, Luke would send a T-Shirt and tell me to sack up when i needed to hear it Sgt Knapp would tell me I could do it, unless I was a lil bitch. Which I'm not to be clear. I'm not a little bitch. haha and so on. One more dude I would talk to had some NASTY cancer that fought long and hard but ultimately succumbed to it. Leaving behind 2 boys, a wife and many brothers, but he would give me strength and inspire me in ways I can't describe. Josh was motivated, dedicated and loyal as anyone to his God. I found strength through his unwavering character. What a good man. There's more, but that's all you're gonna get, you weak ass civilians, go do pushups whilst beer bonging a bottle of Stoli, then maybe we can talk about your cool college days hahaha HOOAH!
Neighbors - Wow, the whole neighborhood came together to help out. offering to cook, to clean to give my mom a break when she needed it and so on. Lost of people have moved out that knew me as a kid, but it didn't stop a lot of people from coming by and just sharing words of encouragement. I can't talk enough about my next door neighbor whom I've known since I was 8. Turns out her and my mom are both from Jersey. You get those 2 together and there ain't an OFF switch. blah blah blah blah blah yadda yadda holy freaking yadda. It's always entertaining to watch the interactions, because it's endearing. Lots of love and mutual respect go back and forth, and when my mom needed a hand, like a good neighbor, our neighbor showed up. Making food or just a quick word of encouragement, it never was too little or to much. it was always enough to make the day go by easier and a little brighter. Not to mention talking to her was the highlight of some of my days, just so many positive vibes! shit, see? Now I'm looking like a faggy hipster, exactly why i dislike blogging now. oh well, haha
Stuart - A legit chef that's gone through culinary school and took the time to make insane dishes that were finally palatable. Food that I could taste! There was a few months where I couldn't taste a thing, and when you loose that sense of taste, you don't want to eat anything. Well he brought around fatty foods I could taste and enjoy. Just like.....the most heavenly thing I could've asked for. The funny part was I went to middle school dances with his sister and now here he is, cooking meals for me just so I can eat. My parents paid him, the neighbors paid him, but he was really just taking enough to pay for the food, didn't keep much for himself, but man what a great dude. Sometimes he'd just come by to chill and drink beer in front of me that I couldn't drink like a dick cause he know I couldn't whup his ass quite yet. Stuart, if you're reading this, I haven't forgotten. You should've killed me when you had the chance, now ur gonna die. Just kidding. But for real, you owe me like a brick. Anyhow, one of those days we just chilled my sister had gone out to get me food, because she's the shit, and I ate a large blizzard, a 5 guys cheeseburger, another large blizzard and the Italian nightclub from Jimmy Johns. Yikes. Diabetes, wassup! But it was good. Not so much fun spending like the entire next 3 days on the john, but man was that so good.....
Noelle - My sister got her own place and works pretty hard. I think she should finish school, but I'm not gonna beat her up online about it, I'll do that shit in person. So my parents got out of town, they earned a little vacation. Seriously, I was at the point where I needed minimal help and if anyone deserved a break, they did. So they got my kid sister to come help me not die. She would run around buying me food and stuff. Mostly just food. I mean, she barely had a minute to herself, I'd ask her to get something when she had a chance and she'd zip right out of the house and go get me whatever I wanted. No questions. She never complained. She never said, look man, I only have so much money here. It didn't matter to her, she just ran out and grabbed what she could. Sometimes she'd go to the wrong DQ that's like 10 miles in the wrong direction, but that's because she's borderline autistic and it only makes you love her even more when you realize she's working with such a disability. Or maybe she's not. Maybe she's just a dummy and no matter what I love her to death for all the hard work she put in to keep me alive. She's going through some shit now, so it's my turn to help her. I'm not at 100 percent but to hell with it, family is family right? Best kid sister I could ever ask for.
Mary Ellyn - My mom's friend for like 30 years or something cray cray in a good way! Her family is like our family and vice versa. Just an amazing woman really, and super irish. I've known her again my whole life, and she's probably the kindest woman I've ever met. Her son used to baby sit me, which I don't get, I was a terror child for any babysitter, and it's probably why my parents didn't go out too much. And her daughter was like my favorite growing up, she was just so cool!! Well anyhow, this one time I was pretty high and just looking for grub, not being able to taste anything I was just looking at nutritional value and my mom tells me Mary Ellyn is out there surrounded by fast food, do I want anything. My first reaction is, gross. I'm healthy. Then my brain kicks in and is like "bro, if you don't eat something soon, you're gonna start scraping the wood molding down and chew on that. Plus you gotta be careful with that big ass wall snake somewhere around here. It's like freakin Jumanji up in the bitch! Get a burger bro! Snakes hate burgers." So i told mom I wanted 5 guys cheese burger. I successfully evaded that big ass anaconda that's responsible for many hundreds of deaths on the Amazon I'm sure, and was able to shelf my paranoia for a few minutes to sit and eat. I had a wonderful conversation with Mary Ellyn, just catching up on family stuff and enjoying our food. WAIT. WHAT? I CAN TASTE THIS!? NOOOOoooooo........but YESSSSS!!! oh man, I had to let her know how much she rocked. My brain was right, snakes hate burgers, cause that big slithering asshole stayed away for a few days. So over the next few weeks I'd smoke a lil, and get 5 guys or chipotle. Bastard snake.....muahahah I KNOW YOUR WEAKNESS!! and the weakness of most of diabetic america I think. And I get it, those burgers are freaking amazing! But I wouldn't have been in such good spirits if it wasn't for the burger and love she brought that night that really set the tone.
Do I have to say something about my mom here? FINE. haha, just kidding mom, you deserve thanks more than anyone.
Pretty sure It goes without saying that mom pretty much saved me and kept me going. Nobody knows me better or knows what I need better than my mom. I have yet to have a night full of undisturbed sleep, but she would make sure I was comfortable. My sheets were always clean and smelled like fresh awesomeness. My clothes, she somehow kept on top of so I was always clean. Anything I needed as far as food went she provided. Sometimes she'd get something and I couldn't get after it for whatever reason. She never scolded me for it, or complained about anything I did. Sometimes I'd make a total mess and she'd clean it up without hesitation or a negative word. I'd get sick and she'd let me be, unless it was really bad, then she'd get after me and try to help. I lone wolf my battles as best as I can, I have a real problem accepting help from others and I absolutely hate when I'm weak, but that didn't stop mom from making sure everything was good. She'd clean my feeding tube, and fill it with what I needed when it was supposed to happen. She organized all the pills and gave them to me at the proper time and forced me to eat them until they were gone. She didn't take anything personally. She let me struggle sometimes because she knew I couldn't ask for help. She'd hook up my IV and make jokes about it, it would get me to laugh which sometimes is exactly what you need. Sometime's we'd take selfies. My mom is probably, no she is the best woman I'll ever have in my life. I'm a total momma's boy so there's that, and I don't think it's a bad thing, although some girls I've dated felt threatened by it. Needless to say, you're gonna loose that conversation overtime girls, but I've been told it's why I still think it's appropriate to buy a girl flowers, give out massages, and tell them they look beautiful every day at some point. Oh and, she never misses a beat, my mom that is. Today for the anniversary she bought me my favorite candies and left them on the table with a note before she went to work. Damn. Mom rocks.
Well, that's all i've got time for, I've gotta get back to grinding out study sessions and download new songs to help me grind through this stuff so I can be employable once again! As always the love and emails are appreciated and don't go unnoticed. Love you all! If I missed anyone just let me know, and I'll be sure to add you in! I want to make sure everyone is on here!
So then I'm like, perfect. Although I forgot about my anniversary my mom didn't and apparently God, or Buddha, or Rick James or whatever you believe in thought to schedule my OrangeTheoryFitness challenge today as well. Trying to get a job after not having the cranial capacity to learn anything new limits your options when trying to get a job again, but when you commit to something like Physical Therapy, you have to take baby steps and of course surround yourself with people that have similar objectives. Going forward and pursuing a sales job at a tech company couldn't be further from where I need to be, so I turned down money for the education or whatever. Sounds noble right? Good, because it's all about perception at this point. I like to help people and everyone kinda helped me through it, so I'm gonna take a few minutes to heap praise on everyone that I can think of, because that's fair and mandatory. When someone helps you, you're supposed to say thank you. And bringing girls flowers isn't such a bad thing either, try it, I bet that girl hasn't gotten flowers in forever and will love you for it!! Oh, they usually love Starbucks too, so flowers and starbucks will get you a second date. I digress. Here's my overly emotional love list to everyone that said or did something to help me out along the way. Most of them don't know about this blog anyhow, so that's good because i feel like a hipster writing my feelings down. Here we go!
Danny - Called or texted or communicated in some form every day. Most days in the hospital I preferred to be left alone and fight my battle solo. But this dude was not about to let that happen. I've also known him since the day I was born and grew up down the street and fought with him and lived some pretty awesome adventures with him. He's my weaker, less aggressive, yet super competitive brother from another mother. There was a point when I couldn't eat. I was on maybe 20 pills at the height of the big pharma push to medicate everything away. Granted meds are awesome for some things, but for eating and pain I just hate taking them. So I discussed this with Danny one day, and he's like "you know what you need to do" and I did. But in Illinois it wasn't legal. So the doc gave me a little THC pill that was supposed to stimulate appetite. Didn't work. Danny sent me money via PayPal and I got my own source of THC that was much more effective than some fabricated junk. THEN, as if he could do more, he did. My birthday in April I spent in the hospital, unable to eat thanks to nasty medical garbage which was eventually blamed on all the pills I'd been taking, they drilled a hole in my stomach and put a tube in there to feed me. I mean, they went in through the "NO-GO" hole, but thankfully I was sedated. I woke up feeling like I'd been in prison in a bad way, and had a tube sticking out of me. I eventually got home, but for my birthday he sent me Pink Beats Wireless headphones for working out! WTF!! keep in mind, he's a Joo, and I've never received a gift from him in my life, and neve really gave him anything either, cause we're not gay. But it made my life so much better. I took them everywhere, I listed to music for the first time in like 4 months while I used his "feed me" fund to get stoned and then attack the shit out of foods that would ultimately make the butthole sore but I'll be damned if it didn't feel GREAT going down. Once, I ate a pound of sugar in one day. High as a kite. But guess what. The pain was all gone, I could eat, I was happy and in good spirits, I was terrified, however of the big fucking snake that kept chasing me on the wall. Which is a total bitch when you can't walk and have an IV attached to you. I fell, all the time running from that monster. There was one time when the monster from Alien came after me while I was on the toilet, it just came out of the toilet and stared at me. He talked. He sounded like Stewie Griffin. It was a good relaxing moment. I spent about 2 hours talking to James the Alien that day. Thanks Danny. He's my best friend, my brother and someone I idolize, yet when that pretentious Apple job gets the best of him, i'll choke him the fuck out and bring his ass down to earth in a gloriously painful yet loving way. Violently. Thanks man.
Momma Kate - Where to begin with this lady. HOLY. SHIT. I mean, she's the mother of Danny so obviously she's got a heart of gold to love such an ugly child right? haha totally kidding, but she can't come down and kick my ass so i'll hide behind this keyboard here and take pot shots! NO, again, totally kidding! As a kid she invited me to all the birthdays that were attended by all these smart kids from the private school. I was all about football, WWF wrestling, and my penis. They were all about math, science and computers. Some of the kids I was allowed to talk to, but those birthday parties were honestly the best. Pizza for days, arcade games and laser tag! WHAT?! I'd kill to do that tNOW, but we got lucky and did that when we were like 8-13. She made everything awesome. She brought the neighborhood together for block parties, wine gatherings, and holiday parties. She took care of me when I was a kid, make us all get outside and play street hockey, or invite us to play with the big kids and not let them say no. I mean, I'd get sent home for playing too rough on more than one occasion, but only because I never learned. She really treated me like one of her own, which was completely unnecessary but totally standard for her to just love everyone and everything. So through the ups and downs in my life, she's been there with a kind word, or a kick in the butt when I needed it. Lump it on top of my mom's swift kicks, it was rough having 2 moms, I'll leave it at that. But when I was in the hospital she came to visit me! She's a busy woman, with lots of volunteer work going on and programs she runs but took the time out to come and see me. At first I was mad, I didn't want anyone to see me so weak and feeble. But hell, if there was going to be one person that i'd let in besides my mom and dad and sister, she'd be the one. We had a good time, she scolded anyone that denied me anything and through a food fiasco where it took them 3 hours to get me a meal. She got after the nurse so hard that I felt like....oh man, this woman is gonna pull the plug on me when you leave, ease up. But guess what, it got her to act and I got a meal. After that, I never waited 15 minutes for a meal. I'd loose a bunch of weight and she'd be there to text or stop by the house to demand I eat. She cooked meals to make me eat and all that, practically forcing food down my throat, but hey it worked. Between that and casual conversations keeping me up to date on the goings on of the neighborhood and such it was just amazing to have her on my support team. Oh and I went up to the bakehouse of course, and the food was just like heaven. Such a great time. Always. If you don't have a second mom, go adopt one, because the more the merrier!
Guna Platoon - I can't just single out everyone because I already hate writing this blog and that would literally take forever, going on trips down memory lane and such. Well, these guys were my brothers and saw me every day and we would have literally caught a bullet in the face for our brothers. There might have been a few shit bags, and maybe some of those shit bags are the reason I no longer have a military career, but hey, I'm not salty, but if I ever see one of those pricks, i'll beat him like he owes me his soul. But the rest of the platoon was just freaking amazing. We still communicate through thick and thin. Some of us are getting thick and some are just wicked thin these days. Guys are having kids and getting married and some are even still in the service, trying to get to that 20 year mark. Some live in hawaii and should be castrated for having so much fun. boohoo. hahah, of course I kid, I love these men. I received care packages, friendly insults, invites to AA meetings (they claimed I was substance abuser of Chemo), words of encouragement, stories of how i did some cool shit, how I was a good soldier (that'll never be hard to hear), how they named an exercise after me because I might have been such a smart ass. Stronger or Smarter they said, What's your old lady's number? I'd ask. I was stronger. I climbed a 50 ft rope upside down with a combat load on as punishment, dragged an LMTV tire all over the place, carried a 5 gallon jug around, crab walked for miles, did handstands for hours on end, stood at attention in ceremonial blues with rifle and the list goes on. If you could do all that and then have the balls to call your squad leader a a tiny girl in a big body or whatever, knowing you'd get the shit smoked out of you, you can beat this stupid shit. They were right. Chris would send pics of his deer kills, Luke would send a T-Shirt and tell me to sack up when i needed to hear it Sgt Knapp would tell me I could do it, unless I was a lil bitch. Which I'm not to be clear. I'm not a little bitch. haha and so on. One more dude I would talk to had some NASTY cancer that fought long and hard but ultimately succumbed to it. Leaving behind 2 boys, a wife and many brothers, but he would give me strength and inspire me in ways I can't describe. Josh was motivated, dedicated and loyal as anyone to his God. I found strength through his unwavering character. What a good man. There's more, but that's all you're gonna get, you weak ass civilians, go do pushups whilst beer bonging a bottle of Stoli, then maybe we can talk about your cool college days hahaha HOOAH!
Neighbors - Wow, the whole neighborhood came together to help out. offering to cook, to clean to give my mom a break when she needed it and so on. Lost of people have moved out that knew me as a kid, but it didn't stop a lot of people from coming by and just sharing words of encouragement. I can't talk enough about my next door neighbor whom I've known since I was 8. Turns out her and my mom are both from Jersey. You get those 2 together and there ain't an OFF switch. blah blah blah blah blah yadda yadda holy freaking yadda. It's always entertaining to watch the interactions, because it's endearing. Lots of love and mutual respect go back and forth, and when my mom needed a hand, like a good neighbor, our neighbor showed up. Making food or just a quick word of encouragement, it never was too little or to much. it was always enough to make the day go by easier and a little brighter. Not to mention talking to her was the highlight of some of my days, just so many positive vibes! shit, see? Now I'm looking like a faggy hipster, exactly why i dislike blogging now. oh well, haha
Stuart - A legit chef that's gone through culinary school and took the time to make insane dishes that were finally palatable. Food that I could taste! There was a few months where I couldn't taste a thing, and when you loose that sense of taste, you don't want to eat anything. Well he brought around fatty foods I could taste and enjoy. Just like.....the most heavenly thing I could've asked for. The funny part was I went to middle school dances with his sister and now here he is, cooking meals for me just so I can eat. My parents paid him, the neighbors paid him, but he was really just taking enough to pay for the food, didn't keep much for himself, but man what a great dude. Sometimes he'd just come by to chill and drink beer in front of me that I couldn't drink like a dick cause he know I couldn't whup his ass quite yet. Stuart, if you're reading this, I haven't forgotten. You should've killed me when you had the chance, now ur gonna die. Just kidding. But for real, you owe me like a brick. Anyhow, one of those days we just chilled my sister had gone out to get me food, because she's the shit, and I ate a large blizzard, a 5 guys cheeseburger, another large blizzard and the Italian nightclub from Jimmy Johns. Yikes. Diabetes, wassup! But it was good. Not so much fun spending like the entire next 3 days on the john, but man was that so good.....
Noelle - My sister got her own place and works pretty hard. I think she should finish school, but I'm not gonna beat her up online about it, I'll do that shit in person. So my parents got out of town, they earned a little vacation. Seriously, I was at the point where I needed minimal help and if anyone deserved a break, they did. So they got my kid sister to come help me not die. She would run around buying me food and stuff. Mostly just food. I mean, she barely had a minute to herself, I'd ask her to get something when she had a chance and she'd zip right out of the house and go get me whatever I wanted. No questions. She never complained. She never said, look man, I only have so much money here. It didn't matter to her, she just ran out and grabbed what she could. Sometimes she'd go to the wrong DQ that's like 10 miles in the wrong direction, but that's because she's borderline autistic and it only makes you love her even more when you realize she's working with such a disability. Or maybe she's not. Maybe she's just a dummy and no matter what I love her to death for all the hard work she put in to keep me alive. She's going through some shit now, so it's my turn to help her. I'm not at 100 percent but to hell with it, family is family right? Best kid sister I could ever ask for.
Mary Ellyn - My mom's friend for like 30 years or something cray cray in a good way! Her family is like our family and vice versa. Just an amazing woman really, and super irish. I've known her again my whole life, and she's probably the kindest woman I've ever met. Her son used to baby sit me, which I don't get, I was a terror child for any babysitter, and it's probably why my parents didn't go out too much. And her daughter was like my favorite growing up, she was just so cool!! Well anyhow, this one time I was pretty high and just looking for grub, not being able to taste anything I was just looking at nutritional value and my mom tells me Mary Ellyn is out there surrounded by fast food, do I want anything. My first reaction is, gross. I'm healthy. Then my brain kicks in and is like "bro, if you don't eat something soon, you're gonna start scraping the wood molding down and chew on that. Plus you gotta be careful with that big ass wall snake somewhere around here. It's like freakin Jumanji up in the bitch! Get a burger bro! Snakes hate burgers." So i told mom I wanted 5 guys cheese burger. I successfully evaded that big ass anaconda that's responsible for many hundreds of deaths on the Amazon I'm sure, and was able to shelf my paranoia for a few minutes to sit and eat. I had a wonderful conversation with Mary Ellyn, just catching up on family stuff and enjoying our food. WAIT. WHAT? I CAN TASTE THIS!? NOOOOoooooo........but YESSSSS!!! oh man, I had to let her know how much she rocked. My brain was right, snakes hate burgers, cause that big slithering asshole stayed away for a few days. So over the next few weeks I'd smoke a lil, and get 5 guys or chipotle. Bastard snake.....muahahah I KNOW YOUR WEAKNESS!! and the weakness of most of diabetic america I think. And I get it, those burgers are freaking amazing! But I wouldn't have been in such good spirits if it wasn't for the burger and love she brought that night that really set the tone.
Do I have to say something about my mom here? FINE. haha, just kidding mom, you deserve thanks more than anyone.
Pretty sure It goes without saying that mom pretty much saved me and kept me going. Nobody knows me better or knows what I need better than my mom. I have yet to have a night full of undisturbed sleep, but she would make sure I was comfortable. My sheets were always clean and smelled like fresh awesomeness. My clothes, she somehow kept on top of so I was always clean. Anything I needed as far as food went she provided. Sometimes she'd get something and I couldn't get after it for whatever reason. She never scolded me for it, or complained about anything I did. Sometimes I'd make a total mess and she'd clean it up without hesitation or a negative word. I'd get sick and she'd let me be, unless it was really bad, then she'd get after me and try to help. I lone wolf my battles as best as I can, I have a real problem accepting help from others and I absolutely hate when I'm weak, but that didn't stop mom from making sure everything was good. She'd clean my feeding tube, and fill it with what I needed when it was supposed to happen. She organized all the pills and gave them to me at the proper time and forced me to eat them until they were gone. She didn't take anything personally. She let me struggle sometimes because she knew I couldn't ask for help. She'd hook up my IV and make jokes about it, it would get me to laugh which sometimes is exactly what you need. Sometime's we'd take selfies. My mom is probably, no she is the best woman I'll ever have in my life. I'm a total momma's boy so there's that, and I don't think it's a bad thing, although some girls I've dated felt threatened by it. Needless to say, you're gonna loose that conversation overtime girls, but I've been told it's why I still think it's appropriate to buy a girl flowers, give out massages, and tell them they look beautiful every day at some point. Oh and, she never misses a beat, my mom that is. Today for the anniversary she bought me my favorite candies and left them on the table with a note before she went to work. Damn. Mom rocks.
Well, that's all i've got time for, I've gotta get back to grinding out study sessions and download new songs to help me grind through this stuff so I can be employable once again! As always the love and emails are appreciated and don't go unnoticed. Love you all! If I missed anyone just let me know, and I'll be sure to add you in! I want to make sure everyone is on here!
Thursday, May 28, 2015
What a pain in the ass...
This was not meant to be a daily thing, but here I go, figured I'd update on what a pain in the ass this process can be. Most people just don't know and there are kids out there dealing with worse. Keep that in mind and the fact I'm fucking writing a blog from my cell phone because my legs are wiped out at the moment. More on that later.
Background
This might be longer than I want but whatever, maybe someone can relate it learn something. Flash back to 2013. I beat cancer in December 2011 recovered and became a personal trainer. I wanted to help people. It's awesome when you take a journey with someone that completely trusts you, and you them. When they hit goals and you both end up feeling elated and happy, but humbled by the new goals you set because there is no such thing as settling but only achieving something more. OK, so now you know. Then I ended up at FFC East Lakeview in Chicago and ran an outdoor boot camp in the mornings. I have nothing but amazing things to say about Chicago on the north side, so don't ask haha. Back in April I met a girl and by September we had a sweet 2 bedroom corner apartment within walking distance of both Wrigley Field and my job. My mom bought me a motobecane hard tail downhill mountain bike that was stolen the first month I was at FFC. I ended up chasing down the bastard a few weeks later, he got startled and when he looked over his shoulder he must have forgot where the fuck he was because he ran head first into a giant orange city dumpster. Turns out it wasn't my bike he was on. Ooops. My bad bro. He wasn't hurt too bad, but didn't kick my ass which I was grateful for. Never saw my bike again. Insert your choice of emoji.
I digress. In November 2013 I was peaking pretty well, making good money and getting invited to physique competitions for amateurs. Talk about feeling great! Compliment someone and see for yourself! But there was a catch. My neck was swelling on the side and people started noticing. My energy started to fade and the girlfriend and I had some issues like getting along, and whatever so we broke up and I ended up in an apartment across the street from my work. I started to fade at my job, no longer motivated and destroyed by the breakup. It hurt my clients progress, and I busted ass to fix that, giving free sessions and joining in since workouts. I met another girl that I went cray cray in a good way for, and she told me I could take a wicked pay cut, like the kind of pay cut where you suddenly go from whole foods to Walgreen's. Not knocking it, but it's a bitch. I must be a basic bitch. So I took the job and got on one if the company's flag football teams. I made great friends and really enjoyed the people and comraderie they I hadn't expected, sharing beer and pizza and stories about how shitty your day was. I ended up snapping a tendon in 2 fingers in game, one on one play and the other the next play. The next day my boss let me go to northwestern to get checked out. And yep, nothing they could do. "Oh let's MRI that neck of yours too". Probably should have checked insurance, when I thought I had it, buy I didn't. Oooops. A Dr came in and was struggling for words. I used some colorful language that drill sergeant Sandsbury would be proud of to let the doc know I inf if figured it came back. This is November 2013 now. So we went to Loyola to my oncologist to start it all up again.
Treatment
Dr wanted to start me on a new drug that was more accurate at targeting the cancer cells and leaving healthy cells alone. It is called SGN-35 and it's powerful stuff. Every 3 weeks I went in and got my infusion. I missed work a bunch thanks to the immunosuppressive properties of the drug. Getting sick was beginning to become a regular occurrence. In the midst of all that jazz my job wanted to fire someone in the top 40% for sales while missing so much time. That was me, to be clear. A new guy. So they settled and I bought a motorcycle. Bucket list time!! I rode route 66, California's amazing PCH from southern LA to San Francisco to my best bro Dan and then up through Tahoe and down to Vegas (no gambling, just bucket list stuff) up through Denver to visit my dude Matt (Dan's brother) whom has the most adorable daughter! The last 1,000 miles home I knocked it the next day, and it was awesome. Back to treatment. The SGN-35 wasn't enough, so I fenced up getting traditional chemo, 4 kinds I think it was. But I hit the gym everyday and played lots of videogames! The doctor was confident we could knock out the cancer, but wanted a transplant really put the nail in its coffin. We couldn't find a match for a doner, so we had to settle on cord blood. You see, when a baby is born the mother can donate the umbilical cord to science. They freeze the blood and a small sample goes into an international database. So we found one similar enough, cord blood is a lot better at agreeing with one's internal organs when the match percentage isn't super good. Other doner blood will attack your body, and they call it graph vs host disease or GVH in PhD talk. November 2014 I was reborn. First, 2 chemo types sometimes 2x a day for 7 days, then the transplant. Everything went smooth. I read Arnold's autobiography before my concentration started to go. Then the appetite went. Then the weight stayed to go. 215 up to 235 thanks to forced fluid and steroid orders. Then you wait, for 30+ days in a hospital bed fit your blood counts to rise to normal levels. See they bring you to 0 and phoenix you into a badass survivor. Sometimes when you are at your lowest (I thought I was there but I hadn't a clue) you remember a particularly difficult road march you struggled through and never quit. That motivates to no end. Cancer is bested again. I'm lucky. Really really fucking lucky. I like fighting my battles alone, but my neighbors quickly stepped to and smothered me with love and support. I like my alone time to think and recover, but even my sisters friends got involved. I got sick and ended up dropping to 145 lbs. So they put me in the hospital over 2 weeks to put in a feeding tube and get the weight up. My sisters friend Stuart owns a badass catering company and is a damn got chef. I had list my taste so I didn't want to eat..... Until they brought me foods. I could taste it. Saffron rice and chicken. Basic but Indian style, lots of spices and taste. It was enough to smile about, which I hadn't done in some time.
Recovery
I was finally released a week after my birthday, happy 29th you sick figure looking scrawny guy!! I got home and as I was changing I noticed myself in the mirror, I could have cried. It was like looking at a picture of the liberation of Auschwitz. Knobby knees, protruding ribs, upper arms as thin as the forearms. Forearms so weak that my dear sweet mother has to open the pickle jar for. It was a shock. It took a few days to accept, but what can you do. The steroids prescribed knocked out my legs and shoulders to the point where walking around the block makes me sweat and puts my heart up in the 130-140s. Stairs are worse. I climb because i have to, but the steroids continue to eat away at my poor chicken legs. But in almost off of them just 1 week left!! Stuart came over everyday for breakfast and lunch for a week, assaulting my taste buds with new flavorful ideas and to die for sauces. Its just crazy what people will do to help. And even as busy as he is, he makes it a point to help when he can. He is going straight to heaven, along with my mom who delivers food and nourishment and pills and medicine and love and food. Yeah lots of food. I can't walk up stairs well yet, but you can't stop trying. Also imagine having dysentery and having to climb a flight of stairs when grandpa could kick your ass in a stair climber. The struggle is real. I've gained some weight and continue to recover and heal. Dr said I'd be good at 100 days, but here I sit at day 170+ waiting to gain enough strength to ride my motorcycle again. See you on the sidewalk.
Background
This might be longer than I want but whatever, maybe someone can relate it learn something. Flash back to 2013. I beat cancer in December 2011 recovered and became a personal trainer. I wanted to help people. It's awesome when you take a journey with someone that completely trusts you, and you them. When they hit goals and you both end up feeling elated and happy, but humbled by the new goals you set because there is no such thing as settling but only achieving something more. OK, so now you know. Then I ended up at FFC East Lakeview in Chicago and ran an outdoor boot camp in the mornings. I have nothing but amazing things to say about Chicago on the north side, so don't ask haha. Back in April I met a girl and by September we had a sweet 2 bedroom corner apartment within walking distance of both Wrigley Field and my job. My mom bought me a motobecane hard tail downhill mountain bike that was stolen the first month I was at FFC. I ended up chasing down the bastard a few weeks later, he got startled and when he looked over his shoulder he must have forgot where the fuck he was because he ran head first into a giant orange city dumpster. Turns out it wasn't my bike he was on. Ooops. My bad bro. He wasn't hurt too bad, but didn't kick my ass which I was grateful for. Never saw my bike again. Insert your choice of emoji.
I digress. In November 2013 I was peaking pretty well, making good money and getting invited to physique competitions for amateurs. Talk about feeling great! Compliment someone and see for yourself! But there was a catch. My neck was swelling on the side and people started noticing. My energy started to fade and the girlfriend and I had some issues like getting along, and whatever so we broke up and I ended up in an apartment across the street from my work. I started to fade at my job, no longer motivated and destroyed by the breakup. It hurt my clients progress, and I busted ass to fix that, giving free sessions and joining in since workouts. I met another girl that I went cray cray in a good way for, and she told me I could take a wicked pay cut, like the kind of pay cut where you suddenly go from whole foods to Walgreen's. Not knocking it, but it's a bitch. I must be a basic bitch. So I took the job and got on one if the company's flag football teams. I made great friends and really enjoyed the people and comraderie they I hadn't expected, sharing beer and pizza and stories about how shitty your day was. I ended up snapping a tendon in 2 fingers in game, one on one play and the other the next play. The next day my boss let me go to northwestern to get checked out. And yep, nothing they could do. "Oh let's MRI that neck of yours too". Probably should have checked insurance, when I thought I had it, buy I didn't. Oooops. A Dr came in and was struggling for words. I used some colorful language that drill sergeant Sandsbury would be proud of to let the doc know I inf if figured it came back. This is November 2013 now. So we went to Loyola to my oncologist to start it all up again.
Treatment
Dr wanted to start me on a new drug that was more accurate at targeting the cancer cells and leaving healthy cells alone. It is called SGN-35 and it's powerful stuff. Every 3 weeks I went in and got my infusion. I missed work a bunch thanks to the immunosuppressive properties of the drug. Getting sick was beginning to become a regular occurrence. In the midst of all that jazz my job wanted to fire someone in the top 40% for sales while missing so much time. That was me, to be clear. A new guy. So they settled and I bought a motorcycle. Bucket list time!! I rode route 66, California's amazing PCH from southern LA to San Francisco to my best bro Dan and then up through Tahoe and down to Vegas (no gambling, just bucket list stuff) up through Denver to visit my dude Matt (Dan's brother) whom has the most adorable daughter! The last 1,000 miles home I knocked it the next day, and it was awesome. Back to treatment. The SGN-35 wasn't enough, so I fenced up getting traditional chemo, 4 kinds I think it was. But I hit the gym everyday and played lots of videogames! The doctor was confident we could knock out the cancer, but wanted a transplant really put the nail in its coffin. We couldn't find a match for a doner, so we had to settle on cord blood. You see, when a baby is born the mother can donate the umbilical cord to science. They freeze the blood and a small sample goes into an international database. So we found one similar enough, cord blood is a lot better at agreeing with one's internal organs when the match percentage isn't super good. Other doner blood will attack your body, and they call it graph vs host disease or GVH in PhD talk. November 2014 I was reborn. First, 2 chemo types sometimes 2x a day for 7 days, then the transplant. Everything went smooth. I read Arnold's autobiography before my concentration started to go. Then the appetite went. Then the weight stayed to go. 215 up to 235 thanks to forced fluid and steroid orders. Then you wait, for 30+ days in a hospital bed fit your blood counts to rise to normal levels. See they bring you to 0 and phoenix you into a badass survivor. Sometimes when you are at your lowest (I thought I was there but I hadn't a clue) you remember a particularly difficult road march you struggled through and never quit. That motivates to no end. Cancer is bested again. I'm lucky. Really really fucking lucky. I like fighting my battles alone, but my neighbors quickly stepped to and smothered me with love and support. I like my alone time to think and recover, but even my sisters friends got involved. I got sick and ended up dropping to 145 lbs. So they put me in the hospital over 2 weeks to put in a feeding tube and get the weight up. My sisters friend Stuart owns a badass catering company and is a damn got chef. I had list my taste so I didn't want to eat..... Until they brought me foods. I could taste it. Saffron rice and chicken. Basic but Indian style, lots of spices and taste. It was enough to smile about, which I hadn't done in some time.
Recovery
I was finally released a week after my birthday, happy 29th you sick figure looking scrawny guy!! I got home and as I was changing I noticed myself in the mirror, I could have cried. It was like looking at a picture of the liberation of Auschwitz. Knobby knees, protruding ribs, upper arms as thin as the forearms. Forearms so weak that my dear sweet mother has to open the pickle jar for. It was a shock. It took a few days to accept, but what can you do. The steroids prescribed knocked out my legs and shoulders to the point where walking around the block makes me sweat and puts my heart up in the 130-140s. Stairs are worse. I climb because i have to, but the steroids continue to eat away at my poor chicken legs. But in almost off of them just 1 week left!! Stuart came over everyday for breakfast and lunch for a week, assaulting my taste buds with new flavorful ideas and to die for sauces. Its just crazy what people will do to help. And even as busy as he is, he makes it a point to help when he can. He is going straight to heaven, along with my mom who delivers food and nourishment and pills and medicine and love and food. Yeah lots of food. I can't walk up stairs well yet, but you can't stop trying. Also imagine having dysentery and having to climb a flight of stairs when grandpa could kick your ass in a stair climber. The struggle is real. I've gained some weight and continue to recover and heal. Dr said I'd be good at 100 days, but here I sit at day 170+ waiting to gain enough strength to ride my motorcycle again. See you on the sidewalk.
Wednesday, May 27, 2015
First Walk
It's like Rambo! Get it?! First blood....OK
I should really start from the beginning, but I won't because that's for another part. This is about steroids that cripple you in an effort to help you heal. I found the paradox funny as hell.
"You want to take away my muscles to slow, SLOW the shits, but not fix it?!"
Constantly in a state of trance with all of the pills that are called anti depressant but their side effect is appetite stimulation. Great. But I tell you what, I'm a pretty happy dude! Back to my state of hunger.
So with atrophied, knobby knees hanging out, chicken legs I make a move. In the hospital I thought to myself 'I'm good and young, screw walking.' What I should have done was walk. Instead over the course of 2 weeks my legs shrunk and list power thanks to the steroids. They forced me into a wheelchair for the ride on the day I was discharged. So walking has been limited to say the least.
It wasn't so hard to lower myself into a squat like position, but rising up took everything I had. Everything from my hi flexors down is trashed. I need to move. So with my Powerbeats2 blasting AC/DC I threw on my bright orange flip flops and headed out the front door. I stumbled a bit and really had to concentrate to walk a straight line. Ask any cop. But seriously, half way around the block that stretches 1/2 mile, my legs looked like tree stumps. Like little oaks but puffy. The music distracted me from the pain I felt from my hips to my toes, just king enough to get back in the front door and with the last bit of energy I flung myself into the couch. I had to peel my sandals off, add they left 1/4 indents in my grandma feet. Shit steroids, you suck. Every day I wake with energy and can climb stairs well. After I take the steroids I have to use the railing. Which is total horse shit, but hey I'm motivated so whatever. Ice cream is great for doing that. Speaking of, I'm cutting this short and making a shake!!
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