Life is worth living...

...because my Fresno State Bulldogs won an overtime thriller 52-51.  As I watched the game from the stadium stands, and alternated between bouts of agony and ecstasy, I had to ask myself: Why do I, a grown man, get so emotionally involved in a sporting match?  It's ridiculous.  I'm not a participant, I don't gamble on the games, and I don't know a single soul on the field.  Yes, I'm an alum of the university, and they represent the city I live in...but still.  What is it about sport that puts men on an emotional roller coaster more completely than a coked out, bi-polar girlfriend/spouse ever could?  And it's not just me.  Every where I looked there were grown men of all ages with looks of anguish, happiness, concern, etc.  You'd think they were watching their child being born.  While I'm aware of all the psychological explanations (sports are a 'safe' place for men to experience emotion without looking effeminate, etc and blah blah blah), it's more than that.  We obsess on statistics, injuries, uniform changes, pre game/match analysis, post game/match analysis, and on and on.  We don't pay nearly as much attention to our financial investments as we do to league standings.  And why?  What's in our DNA that makes it so?  Truth is, I don't know...but I suspect it's the same gene responsible for the love of audio/video equipment, beer, sports cars, and steak.    

(Liverpool has yet to lose as well...match with Man U Saturday morning will be first indicator of what we can expect for the season.  Good friend is a Red Devil supporter...I will never hear the end of it if The Reds lose...)

Update to the update...

Well, ulcer still here...along with probable bile reflux.  So, I now have an appointment for my second endoscopy in a year.  W00t.  Also, I've lost 15 lbs...without trying.  It's amazing what a little vomiting and abdominal pain does for your desire to eat...it kills it.  Like "stand your ground in Florida" kills it.  Truth is, I'm a little skinnier than I'd like to be at the moment, and am looking forward to getting this healed and then immediately go on a tacos and cheeseburgers health regimen to put a few pounds back on.

In other news, I think I'm going to paint and reroof my house.  As you can see, my sense of adventure knows no bounds.  Also, my oldest started college, and my youngest is now a high school junior.  If there's a greater indicator you're getting older, I'm not aware of it.  The cliche "they grow up so fast" now makes sense to me, and it is more real than its usual trite usage suggests. (sniff sniff...tears)

Upside?  College football starts in a week, and I have season tickets to my beloved Fresno State Bulldogs.  Another reason why fall is my favorite time of year.  Also, Liverpool started off the 2013-2014 EPL season with a win, and last I heard, Luis Suarez didn't cannibalize anybody in the off season, so perhaps Liverpool can make a run for the top-4, and a Champions League berth (I hear you snickering out there...).  No 'Dogs down and You'll Never Walk Alone!

Update...

So, it wasn't a food allergy.  Turns out, I have an ulcer...which I ignored for almost a month (you would think nightly pain would get me to the doctor...but nope.  That would take a brain cell or two...which I'm apparently lacking).  What did it take to finally get me to the doctor?  Vomiting up bile the color of mint ice cream.  Needless to say, that did the trick.  Anyways, let me tell you...are ulcers painful?  Uh, yeah.  Unbelievably so.  The good news is I can eat want I want again, the bad news is...I can't eat what I want for at least a month.  My tasty diet consists primarily of peanut butter (creamy) and jelly sandwiches, bananas, grapes, 1% milk, apples, blueberries, eggs, rice, plain noodles and oatmeal.  When I'm feeling exotic, I work in a little chicken.  No caffeine, no chocolate, no spices, tomatoes, peppers, onions, garlic, coffee (I haven't had coffee in days and yes, I'm experiencing withdrawals), citrus, fatty foods (cheese, butter, cream, whole milk...you know, shit I love) or carbonated beverages.  I didn't originally believe this, and cheated a bit.  Well, after 12 hours of agonizing abdominal pain, I saw the light. Anyways, the ulcer safe diet pretty much means any foods that lack actual flavor are the safe foods to eat.  Right now, even something like KETCHUP sounds like exotic, forbidden fruit.  Those of you who may know me, know how much I like spicy food (especially Mexican), so you can appreciate the dietary hell I'm living in right now.  However, I suppose I can take solace in the fact that it won't last forever.

 OK.  Time for (yet another) banana.  

Las Vegas and potential milk allergies

So, I haven't been much of a blogger lately.  Part of it has been an ongoing health issue which has run me down for the last year, seriously fucked with my personal and professional life, jacked up my once solid fitness regimen, and looks like I may have to go out of town for a specialist if I want to get it addressed (Samter's Triad...look it up.  It's a fun little auto immune allergy thing...and Scripps in San Diego has a special protocol to deal with it.  After having asthma, loss of smell, occasional intestinal angioedema ((more painful than I can begin to describe)) and hives off and on for over a year, I think I'm ready to give it a shot).  Another reason is I'm not all that angry or pissed.  It's amazing what fuel rage is for ranting on a site like this, but I've been too run down to really feel the burn...and truth be told, there's not a whole lot of drama right now anyways.  Well, until now...

First of all, I love dairy.  Milk, ice cream, cheese, BUTTER....seriously.  The shit to me is the heroin of the food groups.  To me, it's more addictive than BACON...and that's saying something.   You can take one of my eyes, but don't fuck with my dairy.  Well, check this out.  All of the sudden, for no good goddamn reason, for the last three weeks, every evening, and after most meals, I would get debilitating stomach pain and abdominal distension.  I mean wind up at doctors and get prescription pain killers type pain.  As a result of my last years allergic nonsense, apparently there's a good chance you'll develop other autoimmune allergies.  Naturally, because I love dairy so much, it appears I have developed a milk protein allergy.  While this hasn't been officially diagnosed yet, today I avoided all dairy after doing a research of symptoms last night (first tried a gluten elimination...didn't work), and today I had the first day in weeks where I wasn't rolling around on the carpet in agony at 3:30 in the morning with my gut blown up three times its normal size.  Great.  Take away one of the few things I truly live for.  On top of all that, apparently I'm going to have to turn into one of those alternative foods Nazi's that are a real pain in the ass.  I'm already researching almond/coconut milk dairy substitutes, non-dairy vegan protein powders (since I can no longer enjoy my chocolate milk or chocolate whey protein post workout beverage.  And that's another thing.  Last year my fitness regimen was seriously derailed by this allergy bullshit, and every few months when I start to feel better and get back on a regular exercise/running schedule....BOOM!  Sinus infection!  Boom! Rampant hives outbreak!  And now...BOOM! A possible milk protein allergy!  I haven't exercised in three weeks and I feel like I'm atrophying head to toe...it's like God/Mother Earth/Buddah/Shiva/HAL/fucking whoever, doesn't want me fit anymore, because it feels like I'm constantly being conspired against every time I get back into a routine), breads that aren't made with milk products, etc.  Guess what?  EVERYTHING HAS FUCKING MILK PRODUCTS IN IT!  Seriously.  If it's processed, it's in there in one form or another.  So now, I have to start shopping for particular products at those high end yuppie health food grocery chains where you spend $9 on a loaf of dairy-soy-gluten-GMO free organic bread made by a woman named Chastity and her husband Freedom.  Yea.  Apparently, I'm going to have to turn into THAT PERSON.  God help us all, and please forgive me for what I'm about to become.

OK.  Rant over.  Side note, I took my daughters to Las Vegas (their idea...call me parent of the year) during the week of the 4th of July.  Saw a few shows, ate at some nice restaurants, overheard a large man who looked like Cedric the Entertainer trying to buy cocaine over the phone ("Yo man, we need some motherfuckin' CO-CAINE up in this motherfucker...") and I managed to get through it despite my previously mentioned uncontrolled allergy/GI issues (had a few stressful nights though...was thinking I was going to end up at the Las Vegas ER one night, which would have sucked ballz...although I'm sure it would have made for a helluva story later).  Like I said, made for some long nights, but it was nice taking the girls out of town.  We had a good time, and I got to take them on their first (short) flight (kind of their warm up as my sister is taking them to England in two weeks.  Yes...they're spoiled).  Here's a few pics:

Ahhh...the subtle ambience of The Strip.

Awesome show, and some would say I appear to be a paler long lost cousin of the Blue Men.

Another impressive show, and the theater was jaw dropping amazing.

You know, The Strip just isn't blingy enough...perhaps fireworks is what it needs.  Done.

Seriously, go see this show...it's a blast.

Parking Lot Etiquette, Assholes, and Hair Gel

So, a few weeks ago I had my head up my ass.  It happens to the best of us.  Know what separates us from the animals?  Our ability to ADMIT the occasions when we have our head up our ass.  Those that CANNOT admit this, therefore, are complete assholes (ok, "asshole" is not an animal per se, or not even a "per se" actually, but this is the most appropriate word for the situation, and I refuse to go back and re-write my introductory statement.  Moving on...).  Those that cannot forgive those of us who can admit when we had our head up our ass are even bigger assholes (think blue whale sphincter...rhino anus*...Godzilla's dark star**...etc), at least, in my opinion, that is.  So, with these declarations in place, here's my short, cautionary story about assholes and proper parking lot etiquette:

I was driving in my local supermarket/strip mall parking lot at a breakneck speed of about 7 MPH.  As I approached an intersection within the parking lot, I was simultaneously fucking with my stereo, dialing a phone number, and reaching in my back seat for my wallet.  In other words, admittedly, not being real attentive.  A gentleman, and by gentleman, I mean hair gelled*** prick in a BMW, had already entered the intersection, and therefore had the right of way.  Me, due to having my head up my ass, did not see him and rolled into the intersection.  I looked up, and due to my whopping speed of 7 MPH, was able to stop my car about 15 FT. from his car.  It wouldn't even warrant calling it a close call. Calling it a close call would be like calling sex with your ex a good idea****.  In other words, it's not (it wasn't? Whatever).  So, because I adhere to proper parking lot etiquette, even though this wasn't a close call, or anything remotely perilous, I did the mea culpa with the hand and facial (heh heh...I said "facial") gestures that intimated "Sorry.  I had my head up my ass...and yes, I find this embarrassing.  Please proceed good sir."  Now, the proper response to my top notch display of etiquette would be a smile and a friendly nod that says, "Hey, no worries...we all have our moments of head up assedness...and thank you for recognizing yours like a true mensch."  And then we would both proceed on our way, thinking human beings aren't really all that bad a bunch after all.  But no.  This is not the case.  Human beings, of course, do suck.  Mightily.  So, Mr. Dippitty Doo here has to pile it on.  It's not enough that I've acknowledged my breach of safety procedures.  Oh no.  Porcupine head here has to give the wild "WTF???" shoulder shrugs and "Pull your head out your ass!" hand gestures to, you know, really hammer the point home.  But, do you want to know what really happens here?  There's no further lesson learned on my part.  NONE.  AT ALL.  His tough love is getting him NOWHERE in my lessons learned department.  Know what lesson he IS in danger of learning?  This one: that what his wild gesticulations DO inspire in me is not additional shame, but rather I pretty much shift into a red mist of rage, and have to use every neuron within my body to stop my brain from causing my foot to mash on the gas pedal, and launching my front bumper into a smoking tire beeline right into his drivers side door in the hope that not only can I see his eyeballs explode out of his skull in a geyser of blood and gray matter, and maybe, if I can find the free time in my schedule, also attend his funeral to hear the lamentations of his loved ones*****.  Because at this moment, that sounds like a really great time to me.  Naturally, this doesn't happen as the neurons win out in restraining me, and Mr. 10w30 hair job continues, obliviously, on his way in a self righteous cloud, not knowing I just let him live out the rest of his overly crunchy headed days in hair gelled, douchey peace.******

Anyways, point being, when somebody admits to their mistake, be gracious enough to accept it...for the love of god.

*Rhino Anus: if this isn't an ancient Chinese aphrodisiac  it should be.
**Godzilla's dark star: wasn't that the 2nd track off of Radiohead's 3rd album?
***Hair gelled prick: hair gel is the blue pinstripe business suit of the prick world.
****Sex with your ex: bad idea.  Unless they're good in bed.  And hot.  And kinda dirty. And you crave a little drama.  Then go for it.  Jesus Christ...figure it out for yourself...what am I?  Miss Manners???  For fuck's sake grow a pair and make a bad decision once in a while.
*****Vehicular manslaughter: this is of course used as hyperbole.  Juicy, delicious, amazing hyperbole.
******Live out the rest of his days in douchey peace: unless of course I change my mind, follow him home, and call in a precision drone strike.  Apparently you can get a drone strike ordered anywhere nowadays.

   

Exercise and Meteorology

Interesting factoid about my neighborhood: you can jog around it for 40 minutes in essentially a giant circle, and be in a headwind* the entire fucking time. 

*I've ruled out a constant cyclone hovering over housing development, or my blazing speed giving the illusion of a headwind...and am now open to new theories.

Huge Pills: A Yetis's dick or King King's Fang? (and "the clap")

Got some antibiotics for a sinus/upper-respiratory infection I had...and they are these HUGE horse pills.  I mean...HUGE (Like a Yeti's dick?  King Kong's fang?  I dunno...you get the idea*).  Anyways, two a day X2 a day.  Seems excessive.  Makes me wonder if the pharmacy accidentally switched my prescription with somebody who has the clap...not that, you know, I'd know what those kind of pills looked like or anything...just sayin'.

*I have no factual basis for the size of either.