February 16. 2004

 

Somehow three days of doing taxes turned into three weeks of procrastination.  I was originally promised that my term at The Garage would last only three days, but here I find myself of what I have been told was my last day there and it's three weeks later.  It's not that I mind going down there and spending time with my dad, in fact I enjoy it, but I hate getting up in the morning to go and do something that is out of my usual grind.  I suppose I deserved it, though.  I asked for some way to get out of the house; I guess I should have been more specific.  I also went swimming at my brother's school last week.  It was a lot of fun, but it's a long drive to get there, so I don't think I'll be doing it too often.  And in a tragic turn of events, the universe seems to have haulted any chances for me to get walking any time soon.  In a desperate moment of self-determination, I opted to wear my leg brace down to The Garage.  While exiting the bathroom, which has two wooden steps leading out of it, I lost my balance.  However, I quickly regained it, but at the sacrifice of speed control.  I caught my weight at the bottom of the stairs much to the dismaying sounds of an unceremonious crack and an undeniable feeling of bending steel in the area of my lower right shin.  After limping even more audaciously than normal to my position back at the front desk.  The lower half of the brace rubbed noticeably rough on the back of my calf.  I took it off and inspected it with Dad.  The entire casing of the lower half of the brace had been cracked around the perimeter in a rectangular fashion and the steel had an obvious bend in it that had previously not been there.  Knowing that the company which had made my brace no longer wanted to partake in reparations of the brace, and knowing that not much could probably be done anyway, and knowing that the brace only awkwardly lolled around on my leg in a hoola-hoop fashion as it was, we decided to discard the brace as a worthless piece of broken shit.  Fourteen thousand dollars flushed down the drain.  The worst part of all was that the brace had hardly gotten any use.  It was practically new, having accumulated very little wear over the five years or so that I had owned it.  When it had been made for me and fit perfectly, I was too overweight to use it.  Now that I had lost enough to start making my treck back to independant mobility, the brace had become uselessly silly-looking and fit so absurdly that it reminded me of so many shirts the size of bedsheets that I no longer wear.  So short story long, I no longer have a leg brace and can't walk.  After relating my story to Melanie, we came up with an adage that allured to my ass being so big that it can bend airplane steel (the kind used in my brace).  It was quite amusing.  Then last Friday night I went out dancing with Melissa again.  It was pretty fun, but I only had one drink early on in the night because I was the designated driver.  It was bizarre, though.  The more the night moved along, the more the atmosphere got a very sexual feeling.  Toward 1:30AM the beat was unrelenting, bodies were gyrating, and strangers were groping one another emphatically.  I had never witnessed anything like this in real life, but it seemed that everyone on the dance floor was entranced in some secret bond of forbidden desire that we were only free to eminate because the social act of dancing permitted otherwise forbidden movements.  After this aura continued for quite some time, I jokingly said to Melissa that if the music didn't stop soon, an orgy was going to break out.  She agreed with a smile.  Luckily for us (or sadly, depending on your perspective), it was closing time, but I wonder if it had continued just what would have occurred.  But because the crowd had seemed a bit older, I decided that I didn't want go back on a Friday again.  The younger crowd seems to only appear on Saturdays for some reason, but after last Friday, I'm no longer so certain.  Oh, have I mentioned that my libido is out of whack?  Ha ha, things are changing in ways I never thought could happen.  First of all, I have bought about half of a new wardrobe.  The clothes fit now, and they show off a shape that is not by any means perfect, but it's in the realm of normalcy.  But here is the secret key: I have bought new underwear.  It may be stupid, but I have a terrible history with my skibbies.  Until a few weeks ago, I hadn't worn them for nearly two and a half years.  I was too fat and they hurt too much.  I was free ballin'.  (I know, gross.)  Well, I had retrieved some older underwear from a forgotten drawer.  They weren't in terrible shape, but they weren't great either.  So I decided that with my new wardrobe, I should get new underwear.  It should be noted that I've never worn anything more glamorous than Fruit of the Loom, and they were stretched and beginning to look their age.  So in the spirit of my sexual revolution, I opted for some underwear that were more on the risk-ay side of things, but still within sane jurisdiction.  First of all, these ones fit.  They are skin tight, which means they don't bunch up into the wedgie from hell when I pull up my new tight fitting jeans.  I didn't even know that underwear could do that.  I had always had problems with this.  But there's more!  Oh, so much more!  They are also black!  I've never owned anything but boring old tighty-whities (except for a short stint of gray boxer-briefs in my teens... ouch, they hurt the thighs).  It's doesn't make a difference on the outside, but it makes a world of difference on the inside.  It's like I'm carrying a dirty little secret under this innocent facade, and nobody knows about it.  All of these new clothes actually make me feel attractive on some level.  Now the only thing holding me back is my walking.  I know this for a reason, though.  There is a new element in the equation of social and sexual conquest.  Now when I meet a girl for the first time, I can see that she thinks I'm attractive for just a split second when she first sees my face and body, but then she snaps out of it when the reality of my wheelchair kicks in.  I've always had physically attractive friends during my adult life for some reason, but for the first time ever I can see that some of these attractive women are actually checking me out for one quick millisecond.  So many girls dance with me in the bar.  They never did that before.  Even for all of my personality, the girls never took to me like they do now.  I know they don't feel threatened, but what could be better than dancing with a good looking guy who isn't threatening, right?  I suppose my innocent face does work to my advantage after all.  Women trust me the second they meet me.  And why shouldn't they?  I'm a nice guy who is very respectful to women.  I'm just in libido overdrive right now.  It's like my body is trying to make up for lost time.  The body hair is getting a little gross, though.  It's not even noticeable except to me.  I find one hair somewhere and gross out with a compelling necessity to remove it at once.  There are certain places hair doesn't belong.  The nipples, back, and the space between eyebrows are at the top of that list.  I will not tolerate them if I don't have to.  I am not afraid of tweezers.  And speaking of bathroom mirror discoveries, yesterday I was getting dressed after my shower.  I stood up to pull of the pants, but suddenly wondered what my body would look like if my belly didn't hang down so low.  So with a quick lift, my jaw dropped.  The bottom half of my body, at least from the side, looks extremely thin.  Not even normal thin, but in that no muscle, puny kind of way.  I was so happy that I could see all of this suffering was paying off, but it also made me realize just how far I still have to go.  But since then I have redoubled my efforts and dedication to this whole thing.  I need to start working on my legs, though.  They are in serious peril.  Well, tomorrow is the beginning of my servitude back at home, so what better time to start a regimen of standing and walking exercises.  I also want to have a nice butt!  And my previously cancelled plans for a night of karaoke have been reenstated.  This Friday I will accompany my friend David and his wife to Colchester, I'm guessing to my old stomping ground of sorts, where we will sing the night away.  Then on Saturday I have another karaoke engagement here in my hometown that has been planned for a long time.  The closeness of the dates is truly coincedence, but needless to say, I will be getting my fair share of singing done this weekend.  Aww, how the people love me!  And as a final note, tonight I finished an amazing book with an incredible premise.  It is the much recently noted book, The Da Vinci Code, which everyone has heard about.  And with good cause.  The plot is interesting enough, but it's the real life facts that the story is based around that are so amazing.  It involves secret societies, a search for the Holy Grail, and opposing theories on the history of Christianity.  But warning, it is not for those avoiding temptation of faith and belief systems.  This book is largely based on actual gospels, testimonies, and documents, putting up an excellent argument that I'm sure you would not be hearing for the first time.  I had always wondered about a lot of the Bible and foundations of Christianity, but this book is like a condensed presentation of the basic beliefs of many learned people.  But beware, it will call into question everything you ever thought you knew about Christianity... unless you don't know anything.  Even then it's still an outstanding read if only for its historical and linguistic progression information.  You will learn a lot about the origin of words we use today that you never knew corrolated with such in depth meanings.  It's about 450 pages, and I read it in two days.  It was the last copy at the store and the woman at the counter told me it was worth all of the trouble I had had with their automated system of payment.  So anyway, I finally get to sleep in tomorrow and it's supposed to be up around twenty-five degrees, then thirty-five the next day.  Spring is finally poking its subtle head through the tormentuous seal of a foreboding and unrelenting winter.  Things are looking up for a change.