Where do they come up with this Stuff?

Just a programming note. I had the misfortune to be grinding through the channels last night looking for something half decent to watch after dinner. Other than the amusing SHAQ Vs series I was perplexed by the new crop of reality crap.

Have you seen Pregnant & 16 yet. I really can't believe that they have sponsors for this shite. If they think they are doing anyone a service by showing this, they must have lost their collective minds. It does not help 16 year olds cope with pregnancy, it does not educate, it does not inform. It shows a spoiled 16 year old cheerleader teenager and her posh life and the 'struggle' she goes through having a baby. Now I admit I only watched one episode which condensed 9 months of pregnancy, giving birth, fighting with her mother, buying a new car with grandpa into a half an hour. Hopefully that was the end of series and it will never be shown again.

What happened to content? This is not Reality TV, this isn't even TV. Somebody out there must be able to write a series, a drama, a sitcom that actually says something. Maybe after watching the complete 5 seasons of HBO's 'The Wire' I have become spoiled. We need to want more from TV.

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Dear Sigmund

Dear Sigmund,
Have you ever had one of those dreams that is so filled with symbols that you are actually a little worried about it? I did this morning.
I haven't been sleeping that well, lots of busy dreams for weeks now. I woke about 3am today and couldn't get back to sleep so I got up and watched NewsWorld for an hour and a half.

After finally dragging my sorry butt back into bed, I worked at getting to sleep for about 20 minutes which at 4:30 am seems like an eternity. Now I know I've got a lot on my mind, Painting, Mother, Daughter #2, Daughter #1, Wife, Gardening, Going Back to the Big Box and that is only a few on the list but this dream was strange.

The location was weird to start, a Soup Kitchen in North Vancouver at dusk which then led to a meeting with my Philosopher Tattoo Artist Friend. This was followed by a ride in his vintage Lincoln to New Westminster, which according to my dreamscape was only a five minute ride. Carrying a file folder I walked to our First House in Burnaby only to find that two of my deceased dogs and original cat from my childhood were loose in the backyard. Being that I was in a hurry I climbed into my old yellow GM Van which I haven't had for 28 years and started down the driveway only to slam on the brakes. I had noticed a man walking his dog, a Golden Lab about 6 years old. For some reason I thought I better put the cat and the two dogs into the house before they chased the man with the Golden Dog. Besides that they had been out all night as I had been and I didn't want to get in trouble with my wife who wasn't up yet.

I have spent a good part of the day trying to figure out what a Soup Kitchen, Tattoo Artist, Ride in a Lincoln, First House, Yellow Van, Deceased Dogs & Cat, Golden Lab and Sleepless Nights holding a File Folder means. I forgot to mention three Locations.

I'm not sure if I should be worried about my mortality or was this just a case of bad indigestion? I think I'll go with that.

Just a tip for all you dreamers don't do experimental cooking and drink white wine when you have too much on your mind. It gives you weird dreams.

Repetitive Mother Syndrome

The standing topic around here lately is my Mother. Seems that every weekend we are dealing with yet another crisis, either real or manufactured.

It's getting boring for our friends hearing us go on and on about the whacky non-adventures of my Mother. You can't imagine how tedious it has become for us. We would like a change of subject. We have made a concerted effort to stop whining, whimpering, bitching, moaning and groaning about her nonsense but with our best efforts it sneaks out. It is almost like having a tick of some sort.

At the beginning of August, Mother was moved into an assisted living facility. The doctor felt she needed help, especially with nutrition or her lack of nutrition. Each week following her incarceration she has complained about the food and anything else she could come up with. Each weekend, (starting now Thursdays) there is a new real or not real health issue to deal with. I may sound a little harsh here but if you had her full medical history you would understand where I am coming from. I am actually dreading weekends now. The only thing I find amusing is that Mother talks with my wife like she is just a gal/pal and says some of the weirdest stuff and shares ideas like I won't find out about them. This is even funnier because, over six months ago we started using the speaker function on the phone instead of trying to repeat theses bizarre conversations we both have with her.

Last night Mom asked Merete, "What do you think John would say if I hired a truck and moved all my stuff back into the house?" Luckily, Merete had to end the conversation because guests arrived, but she told to me what popped into her mind was two words ICE FLOW. After that I thought about having a competition asking everyone to send in 5 things I would likely say.

Before you all raise you arms up screaming at your monitors about what an insensitive bugger I am, I admit that it seemed funny at the time. It's really not that funny the next morning. I am not sure if she will actually ask me that question. If she does it will be on a Thursday or Friday just in time to have it run through my mind all weekend and stir the pot.

I am not looking forward to going to the mainland this week and visiting her one on one. You may not have heard the last of Repetitive Mother Syndrome, sorry.

Two Headed Dragons

I just posted this on my Heart Blog. This version is almost the same but with a few changes.

One of the side effects of surgery is depression. It’s not that I’m unfamiliar with depression, I have suffered from it on and off for most of my life. It never lasted very long except one time.

When I did seek professional help, I dealt with a Shrink. He was nothing like HUFF. He mostly looked bored and yawned a lot. In the end regarding my depression and how it manifested itself, he told me it was a reaction to stress. He also told me that stress and how we react to it is different for everybody.


I keep an eye out for stress now, it not only depresses me but it gave me a heart attack.

The hospital doesn’t talk that much about depression, either does the doctors. They just give you a prescription and send you home. It’s not quite right, if I hadn’t recognised the name of the drug I would have thought it was just another pain killer . The problem is that silence doesn’t help you. Most anti-depressives have side effects and they effect everyone differently.

Bupropian in too high of a dose makes me anxious. I may not feel depressed but it feels like the walls are closing in when I travel anywhere. I used to leave home for work in downtown Vancouver feeling great, by the time I got there I was a nervous wreck. Those other asshole drivers were trying to kill me. Later I found out it wasn't all the medication, they were assholes and most of were potential serial killers. The other thing they need to tell you is that you have ease off these drugs. DON’T LET YOUR PRESCRIPTION LAPSE AND GO WITHOUT THE DRUGS FOR A FEW DAYS. The next thing you know you’ll meet the two headed dragon.

The two headed dragon slides up to you and starts to work. The head with the short neck starts to whisper things in your ear. Self doubt, questions your actions, reminds you of the things you should be doing. While it starts to whisper, the head with long neck begins gradually to wrap itself around you, starting at the bottom and working upwards. You can't get happy, or high enough, you never feel like you've had too much to drink there is no effect. The next thing you know you are not sleeping well, you’re tired all the time. Puppies on TV start to make you cry and anything even remotely sentimental makes you well up. Any aches or pains you have drive you crazy but you don't want to sound like a whiner, so you shut the fuck up and mutter to yourself when no one is looking. While this is going on the whispering continues and gets stronger. Your subconscious won’t let you be, the next thing know you are staring into space contemplating the pile of crap your life has become. This massive pile of crap that you have created and have lost control, as if you can ever have control. If you do have control there is something wrong with you, SEEK HELP. Find some kaos, it makes for a full life.

Yes, I am the poster boy for stupid sometimes I ran out of pills just at the right time. I sent away paintings that I haven''t been paid for (no advice please), my Mother regained her title of DRAMA QUEEN and actually has us all worried about her health again. Enough about me.

Your prescription has run out so you get back on your medication. That’s what you do. If you have never had any medication for depression, you go see your GP and explain to him or her what has been going on inside your melon. You take extra vitamin B50’s, go to bed early for a few days and let things get balanced out. Before you know it, your life isn’t as big a pile of crap, you stop beating yourself up and start to deal with the minor problems that have been bothering you. One problem at a time.

It’s raining outside with sunny breaks much like life. I feel better having talked about after surgery and depression. The pain I suffer from is minor now, my breathing is stabilizing, the problems I have to deal with are not so bad, I am almost ready to get back to work at the Big Box and I am glad to be alive. I hate taking pills but you know they are keeping me alive in spite of my bad habits. That's a good thing, otherwise you would have to read another blog and I would have no one to irritate.

Don’t forget to take your medication whatever it is.