It's cool, I'm bringing it back

A few days ago I was trying to sleep, and through all of the thoughts that wander in my head before I fall asleep I was full of confusion. Confusion isn't the right word, but close. I had started putting pen to paper about the last year of my life but couldn't quite figure out the hook. I mean, as interesting as my life has been and a major topic of interest amongst those close to me, a timeline of what's happened would be as interesting as reading a grocery list.Interesting isn't the right word, but close. I'm smart, right? I can tell stories, right? Writing a book should be easy enough. whatever.

Putting words on a screen is easy enough. I can type all day; that's not the problem. The problem is when I read what I've written. I ask myself questions "is this something I wouldn't be able to put down?" or "Is this enticing enough? Should I livin' it up?" Well, if you know me then you know that I need very little spice to my story.Spice isn't the right word, but close. It's spicy enough. What I need is a hook. What I need is a surprise ending, when this fucked up story hasn't even ended yet.Fucked up is the right word. Exactly. Well I've come up with it and if I can pull it off it should be quite the funny, sarcastic tear jerker. Just like the author. But, I'm not going to tell you. I'm not looking to ruin it all for you. Don't even ask to be a proofreader, I've got people picked out.

NEW FEATURE!
I've got a fun new feature added to my website. If you haven't already noticed there is a "call me" button on my sidebar. "What does it do, TJ???" is what you are thinking. I know. Well, by clicking on it and putting your name and number into the text boxes you'll, surprisingly, call me. What will happen is Grand Central will call your phone, you'll answer, then it will call my voicemail from your phone. "What the fuck is the point? Why wouldn't I just call you from my own goddamn phone?" Is now pacing through your mind. Pacing isn't the right word, but close. Well, with this fantastic service I can record voice messages and post them to my blog. This will allow my readers to ask me anything they like, I'll post it, and then answer it in a blog entry. I'll answer anything and try to get to as many questions as possible.Anything isn't the right word, but close.

Hipsters- The Hippies of Generation Y

After asking a friend from High School about his brother, this is the conversation that played out:

TJ: Ohh.. so he turned into a dirty hippy??
Neil: haha sort of....more like a dirty hipster...or scenester... if you know the type.
TJ: Hipster...our generation's hippy. I might blog about my annoyance of hipsters tonight.
Neil: Don't like belly shirts on guy? or tight pants? velcro shoes?
TJ: Oh I know the type. In Bloomington I could throw a rock and it'd bounce off of 16 hipsters.
Neil: HA! You should have thrown soap...

Now, I regret it too.

Remember when we didn't have cell phones and we just remembered everyone's number by heart? Because of this, it was impossible to entirely cut off communication with someone. I mean, If you HAD to(or got too drunk to have better judgement) you could call the other person.

Now, I have no numbers, emails, or AIM screen names committed to memory. And with a simple click of my scroll pad I can delete you from my address book and out of my life. Thus, putting all of the responsibility on you to contact me. If I died tomorrow in a car crash there'd be no way for my family to send you a funeral notice.

Maybe it's better that way.

A Quick Laugh...

This Story should be humorous to any server. Please read and enjoy.

It's obvious what happened. We used to do this on Aloha! all the time at Johnny Rockets. The deal is, is that you ring up a zero balance item and type whatever you want in the special instructions. Ideally, all that happens is a "text message" of sorts prints up for the cooks. Luckily for us, servers could delete zero balance items off the checks, and we all did before the check went out to the table. I can't even tell you the message that I sent to Sammy. Straight to hell....

Whatta dumb chud for not deleting it.

A New Look

A quick note about the new look:

I took out the blogger NavBar and added a title picture. It's 4:21am and I can't sleep....

I took the picture of a chain fence on one of the side street across the street from Assembly Hall in Bloomington. This prompts me to say that it is my intention not to use random google images on my posts from now on. Instead, I am going to decorate my posts with Pictures I've taken, whether they fit the post or not. We'll see how that works...

Now... get to bed!

Cunt #7

How many times have you sat in front of your computer with something to say, but no way to get it out? There are so many ideas going through your mind at once that there is no way to reach up and grab one to go with. I guess you just start typing a big, incoherent mess.... enjoy.

I fucking hate my insurance company. It's been a year of getting the same medicine and now, for some reason, I have to get it through the mail. But, they don't tell you this until you try to get it at your regular pharmacy. And they tell you by telling the Pharmacy Tech to charge you a $600 co-pay. THEN, you spend the rest of the afternoon being bounced around 800 numbers trying to figure out what the hell is going on.

By the time you figure it out and get a plan, it's 4:30pm on a Friday, your doctor's office is closed but their answering service answers the call. All you need is to talk to your Doctor and tell her to call a 800 number and authorize the override of this mail order policy so you can get your medicine by the time the pharmacy closes. The answering service says "oh, well I can't page her for THAT. That's not a good enough reason."

"NOT a good REASON?!" you say. "This medicine rebuilds my blood and immune system. During flu season I'd say this is a pretty good reason!"

"It's not an emergency." Operator #7 replies.

"So on Sunday when I have flu symptoms and no white blood cells to fight it, Will that be a good enough reason?" You start becoming irate. "Look, this is the only way I can get my medicine. I just need my Doctor to call this number!"

"I'm sorry." Whore number 7 says.

You and #7, you only know her number because this bitch wouldn't give you her name, and claimed to have no supervisor, go round and round for about five more minutes until you end the call with:

"So what you are telling me is that on Monday I have to go to my Doctor and tell her that I haven't taken my injections because operator #7 is a fucking cunt?!"

Dial tone.....

Let me explain myself. I've never actually called a person/woman a cunt before and meant it. But I had been on the phone for 3 hours, wasting an entire afternoon, with my insurance company and had lost all patience. Not to mention that this was my ONLY way of getting my medication. I should be sorry for ruining that lady's day, but I could be in serious trouble if I get sick. I just can't wait until I go to the office on Monday and tell Miss D(Head Nurse) about this. She is one scary old woman and I predict she's going to go bat shit crazy.

This led me to a "Jason Angus" style outburst: I got in my car and left town. I figured that I was cold, so I'd better head south. I get about 50 miles into the trip and have an urge to gamble. I stopped at a rest stop, stared at a map for a few minutes, and changed my course for West Virginia. My new destination was Mountaineer. A casino in West Virginia.

I passed through some really town with HUGE steel mills. I wish it were light outside so I could have had a better look, I love looking at huge factories and compounds. After a few hours of driving back roads I get there.

I forgot it was Friday night and the place is packed. I grabbed $400 out of my account, not knowing what I'll need. But I ended up not gambling at all. I was too tired to concentrate. I took a self tour of the place and made a mental note of it all. I'll be back some other time on a week day.

So pissed... I could have hit a wall if I lacked better judgement.

There and Back Again...

A tale not written by hobbits.

I was released last night from a ten-day stay at the hospital. Originally, it was only supposed to be for the basic five-day treatment, as always, but it was somewhere around day four when things went awry. Ya see, when you are in the hospital the smallest hiccup in plans calls for the addition of more doctors and, ultimately, more tests. I guess a 103 temperature was considered a "hiccup" in plans this time.

On the fourth day my temperature spiked which prompted my chemo to be stopped and immediate antibiotic treatment to begin. At first, before they know the exact reason why your temperature has gone up, doctor's order general, intravenous antibiotics to start fighting until they understand exactly what's going. Then I was subjected to multiple pokes of a needle. The Infectious Disease[ID] Doctor, remember I told you more doctor enter the equation, ordered a slew of blood tests. This time I watched-It's funny the decisions you make when you are high on morphine.

What once were fantastic vessels for blood to come and go as it pleased are now shriveled little veins that the worlds best nurse would have a hard time locating. This makes taking my blood a chore. I watched as the nurse poked me, pulling the needle in and out of my skin to "hit the vein." Watching hurts extremely more than just looking away. I seemed to have made a mistake. Eventually these vampires got what they needed and I was left alone in my room- high and abused. I felt like a junky that had just been raped.

I've always found solace in taking morphine while in the hospital. The best part of this raw deal called cancer is the unlimited supply of Morphine. These ten days were no exception. I was a little worried that since they cut off my chemo they'd be suspicious of my pain, but not to be concerned. No one questioned it. In fact after a while I didn't even have to ask. Every three hours the NURSE would remind ME of my pain shot, asking if I needed it. Fantastic.

Later on in the stay, the ID Doctor started to think that this infection was coming from my gallbladder. Are you fucking kidding me?? I was transported down to Nuclear Medicine to take tests that involve putting isotopes in my blood that tags a certain liquid in your body[blood, bile, ect] and tracks where it goes under a gamma ray camera. It's long and involved. Also, I had to go a ultrasound. Good news, It's a boy.

The rest of the week, from my cloudy memory, went by quickly. After surgery was proposed then taken back. Then a procedure involving a tube going in the side of my stomach was proposed then taken back. In the end, I was sent home after a Blood transfusion with a prescription of Cipro[antibiotic].

Today is Valentine's Day and I'm really just too exhausted to give a shit.

Update

Since I've received three complaints TODAY about how there is nothing on my site yet, I'll fill you in on what I've been doing:

-I've been trying to finish I Hope They Serve Beer in Hell, and I did this afternoon. This book is hysterical. It's basically just a compilation of stories the author put together from his life- including sexual exploits, drunken debauchery, and all things your average american male gets himself into. I read the first fifty pages in the bookstore, looking like a complete loser laughing out loud in the middle of Barnes and Noble. So, I had to buy it on principal alone. I do just fine making myself look like a fucking fool, but when a book does it for me- well that's just something special.

-I'm working on two different stories right now: Homeless and Morphine. At least that's their beta names right now. Homeless is a story of my internal struggle with moving back to Akron for treatment and morphine, well, that just a good time! I'm almost done outlining homeless and I have just begun to ramble about morphine. Both are not ready to be posted, but should be in about a week.

-And lastly, I'm in email negotiations for a layout so I can spruce this bitch up a little bit. The web designer I wanted isn't accepting new projects right now so she referred me to someone else. I am waiting on a quote from her. I know what you are thinking: "TJ, why don't you just use one of the million free templates?" Look assholes, if I wanted a Hello Kitty or Johnny Depp layout I would have just stayed on MySpace(and changed my sexual preference tab while I was at it). I want something a little more personalized and I don't want to make it myself. I used to do that on LiveJournal and it drove me up the wall. I'm sure I'll be pushed to Red Bull and Marlboro's after a week and a half of trying to code my own site again.

-I created a review blog where I will review anything I do. I created this so I can voice my opinion, but not have it clutter up this blog. I already posted my first review tonight. Please check it out, I posted the link in the "TJ's Links" section of this website.

So that's what's up. I'm doing four things at once, all while trying to get ready for chemo on monday. Cut me some friggin' slack!

The Beginning

And God said "Make me a website better than www.web.mac.com/tmozik."

I said "It is done my Lord."