This my first WordPress post

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This my first WordPress post

Welcome to WordPress.com. After you read this, you should delete and write your own post, with a new title above. Or hit Add New on the left (of the admin dashboard) to start a fresh post.

Here are some suggestions for your first post.

  1. You can find new ideas for what to blog about by reading the Daily Post.
  2. Add PressThis to your browser. It creates a new blog post for you about any interesting  page you read on the web.
  3. Make some changes to this page, and then hit preview on the right. You can always preview any post or edit it before you share it to the world.

Surgery went well. The first day the pain was bearable. Now it is inflamed and sore.

Test post from ipad

07/09/2009 21:43

Time for a little vanity and just journal what all has happened today.

At 8:20 there was no one besides me awake. I go through ritual every morning recently: take my nicotine lozenge while deciding if i should smoke a cigarette as well, Then get off the bed and start feeling the bones fall back into the chronic pain condition. I clump down the stairs and turn on the dining room light, go to my seat and grab the glass, go back to the refrigerator, grab the tea and pour it, get a spoon for the yogurt, and the yogurt itself. Then sit down and go through about 14 different pills while praying that no one wakes up and interrupts. Refill the container and try to straighten up my back.
By then no one was awake still, so I decided to go to the YMCA. I do that every weekday. From there I barely had time to squeeze in a breakfast at Waffle House. Then off to the Mental health center.
We have a free form art class there. We’re using watercolors on wood instead of the recommended acrylics. After the frame is painted we can draw with colored pens and paper. Darlene is the teacher. It’s at a very basic level, just something to take your mind off of your troubles, Personally I would rather have had Bingo.
Then it’s time for stress reduction class. We’re supposed to write down what is bothering us, why and how to fix it. Personally I find this hard to do, especially the last part. If I knew how to fix it wouldn’t I be doing it ? Then we go into guided imagery which helps lower my pain level a notch for just while I’m in it. Darlene is still the teacher. Another student and I both dislike her style.
At lunch, most cashiers know what I want and call me “Mister James.” I still shake when I hold things, but it’s still under control. It’s hard to get through a crowd leaning on a cane. So I always debate having that second drink. Plus with my bladder problems, I always try to be somewhere I have a bathroom.
I head home and grab the mail. Mom gets her check from “down home” and has promptly lost it. I go back and ask her if she’s ready to talk over what the realtor sent back. She’s hard of hearing and has problems reading. So not only do I have to read the letter, I have to stop constantly with her questions about the content and pronunciation. It goes on for an hour until I progress the logic chart to say that if she doesn’t sell the property, then the bills will have to be paid somehow.
She’s saying that she wants to go back home, that this place has become a hotel with rude guests. I agree. But she’s diverted and I try to bring it back to topic and the fifth time she’s said the same thing, I give up and leave. I refuse to be contradicted with someone constantly “popping off” claiming always to be right. I can’t remember where I went.
But when I got back, the sitter for my mother and a guest had pre-empted my tv set and movie player to play something I could have barfed over. I just start studying and don’t say a word. I even went up to go to sleep. I left again.
When I come back, Mom has bullied the sitter into changing from the movie I had ordered and wanted so much to finally watch. I went upstairs and decided to have all my equipment removed and stored until such time as I can get another apartment.
From now on, I will only come downstairs to cook and eat. I’ll study and what all else upstairs. What’s left downstairs except mom’s cold companionship, or both sitter’s inquiries or changes to my life?
For once I thought I had some real input to decisions. or once thought the stress started to be manageable. Don’t count your chick’s before they’re hatched.
So I wade through another two despicable hours, waiting to go to bed and dreading the inevitable conflict. Why do I even bother to wake up tomorrow?

07.06.2009 21:45

Let’s talk about security for a minute. I found a great big whole in one notorious posting sites, as big as MySpace. You can read the whole user’s files. Great, hunh ? Nope. Think about how you would tell someone that security has been compromised except including the fact that you saw the contents ?
My thought is that you ever write anything down, it’s public. Even doing it to your own journal and then locking it up, who’s to say there was no surveillance, no photos ?
Try another experiment. If someone has ever cornered you before and said that you were talking behind their back, then don’t for a week and see if they accuse you again.
Why does there get to be all this secrecy ? By now you can tell a lot of my own dirty secrets. And if you ask about something in particular that won’t hurt someone else, I’d probably tell you.
But that’s the rub, “not hurting someone else”. You’ll have to pardon me because I’m just now getting to realize the full impact of “otherness”, but there’s different spaces for everyone. And people in their own space will share, sometimes they’ll share things that will hurt themselves if spoken to too many people.
Why ?
I dunno, but I do it too!