Sunday, December 23, 2007

Stacy's Christmas Adventure 2007: Day 1

I must say with as little ego as possible that I did pretty good for Christmas this year. I've always felt that any truly great gift is properly thought out and is something the individual would truly want for themselves. It should cater to their likes or their needs as only you, as their friend or family member, would know.

Which is why I was excited to give The Greek Goddess her gift this year.

I feel really bad for her because she's been really sick the last few years and hasn't opened a Christmas gift in at least two.

That's something I made sure I would remedy this year.

She is a graduate of Boston University and a published poet. So I started simply by putting, "Gifts for Writers" into Google to see what I could find.

You have to be careful with any search engine. They always give you Sponsored Links first which I'm always wary to click on. I prefer to go to the first link and go from there based on popularity.

You're right, the populace could be full of moronic idiots. But I take my chances anyway.

I happened upon a number of sites that do something rather incredible. They take keys off of classic typewriters from the first half of the twentieth century, remove the keys (I know, a true tragedy) and turn them into jewelry.

The moment I discovered this I knew I had my gift.

You know that excitement you feel when you have in your possession a gift you know someone will love and appreciate.

I've felt like that for the last six days.

I made the trek out to the East Bay and we had lunch at a Mexican restaurant overlooking the waters of the Bay. Even though it was crowded, we received our food promptly.

Now normally, I'm hesitant to eat a lot of food at one time. It has a tendency to return and ruin my desire for any food. Fortunately, my digestive system was agreeable today. Apparently it knows it's the holidays and that I deserve a good meal this time of year.

And the Greek Goddess looked adorable as always. She didn't eat a lot but that's ok. We had a good time and even though she had stated we couldn't open our gifts to Christmas Day, I needled her enough that she gave in.

We drove over near the water for a nice view and we opened our gifts. I went first. I received gifts that only someone who truly knew me would know I'd like.

I now own a Pittsburgh Steelers Rubik's Cube. It's a combination of my two favorite things and will now be displayed in my office here at work. I also have two new collector cars to add to my massive collection of Matchbox and Hot Wheels.

All in all, a very good day. I rarely have a chance to feel that way so I'll cherish this day for many years to come.

Day 2 will be with my parents in the armpit of California...Stockton. And Christmas Day I'll be with my best friend, his wife and their little nine year old son.

For once in a great while, Christmas is something I'm looking forward to this year instead of dreading.

And that's probably the way it should be.

Tuesday, November 13, 2007

I'm a Frickin' Genius

I came up with a frickin' genius idea today.

But like most of my ideas, nobody wants them.

So I'll share this one with you in hopes that someone out there will believe in what I'm saying and together, through American ingenuity and know-how, we can cure what ails the planet.

I have a simple way to curb obesity AND solve the world's insatiable dependence on oil.

What's that you say?? You can cure the same time?!

Gosh're mad?!

Certainly not.

I'm tooling around the TV after Dialysis. I wish I could be more productive, but I listen to my body more often than not now and after Dialysis it screams, "Enough."

My attention was grabbed by one of my favorite cartoons of my youth. "The Flintstones." Fred was in trouble with Wilma again and he and Barney needed to get something special for her.

So they both hop into the Flint Mobile, Fred starts moving his feet really quickly and zippity skippity, they're on their way.

This giant light bulb (not one of those new energy efficient pigtail looking ones) appears over my head, bobbles for a moment or two and then crashes down on my skull, illuminating me to the fact that I'm a frickin' genius.

You're right. I mentioned that earlier.

After three months of traveling to and from our daily jobs, soccer practice and trysts with that hot chick in marketing, every single person in this country would be slim and fit. The percentage of oil used in this nation would drop considerably and we would have no reason to fiddle around in the Middle East. Our air quality would improve and the ozone would repair itself. People would be sick less often and the burden on our medical system would be alleviated.

So wait. I'm a super genius. That's multiple facets of our society that could be cured.

All because of Fred Flintstone and his boney scabby feet.

And if we delineate everything down to its lowest common denominator, the cavemen had all the answers.

So many cheers and thanks to Fred, Barney and especially Betty.

She's smokin' hot.

Friday, November 02, 2007

Free Floating Hostility: 9 Things I Hate About People

Since it's been a while since I posted, I've been boiling up with unrequited rage over the human race. Thus, I present for your enjoyment:

"9 Things I Hate About People"

1. People who grunt at the gym. Women don't find you attractive, I've asked. Mommy not give you enough attention?

2. People who block aisles. They're usually the fattest people possible with a blank look on their face while grabbing high priced merchandise with their chubby little fingers.

3. People who won't flush. I'm not in the mood to take in the aroma of your biggest accomplishment of the day. It takes two seconds, use the handle Neanderthal.

4. People who don't mind their kids. I'm on Dialysis. When your kid comes up and punches me in the arm I get REALLY angry. "But he's just a kid." No, he's a brat who's going to carjack me when he's sixteen if you don't get him under control. Idiots.

5. People who spit up loogies. These are usually guys with wife beater shirts and lots of tattoos. And they always spit near me. Dude, I have extra class. If I give you some will you act like a human being for once?

6. People who blast their music in the car. Loud music is fine, I understand that. Music that shatters my side mirrors isn't. And for whatever reason, it's always rap music. Bad rap music. Another schmuck Mommy didn't hug enough. Retard.

7. People who are lazy and expect the government to pay for their existence. A few months of welfare to feed your kids and get you back on your feet, fine. Sitting on your ass all day playing Mario Kart all day and tricking out your Lexus, not cool.

8. People who equate their value with how much money they make. Your car is nicer than mine and your shirt cost $200. Keep pointing that nose up in the air so I can jam a big can of "I don't give a damn up there." Money doesn't buy happiness, nor that ego you're exposing.

9. People who whine about having the sniffles. This is mostly people at work. Maybe I shouldn't get so upset, but I would LOVE to have a few sniffles and a runny nose instead of dealing with six painful needles and ten hours of my life lost per week. Be thankful woosies.

Thanks for listening. I feel better about myself and the world around me.

Thursday, November 01, 2007

The Return of Stacy

I'm highly embarrassed by how long it's been since I blogged.

I don't even remember what my font settings were.

I could go into a long diatribe of where I've been and what I've been doing, but it would be long and boring.

Much like "Fantastic Four: The Rise of the Silver Surfer" without the really cool surround sound.

But for the three and a quarter individuals who actually waste valuable work time reading the preceding, I present a quick rehash of the last eight months:

--- I started working out again and have put ten weakly pounds on my body. Now once you get past my head I don't look like a twelve year old boy.

--- They fired my boss...again. No, not the same boss. For those of you keeping track, for the seven years I've been at this company I've been through three management changes and four Program Directors. I'm like water mold, it takes a crew of twelve just to get rid of me. In radio, my tenure is translated as "freakishly odd." Coincidentally, that's how former girlfriends describe me.

--- Dialysis has become such a mundane part of my life that it bothers me very little anymore. It's amazing the trauma your body can put up with when it's routine.

--- I've managed to nearly save up enough money for a new computer. Although Christmas is coming and every year around this time something traumatically financial happens that swallows my reserves whole. It usually involves me and an ambulance. No, I'd rather not go into detail.

--- I paid off the Stacy TruckMobile. After five years it's all mine. We're a lot alike. We're nowhere near new. We've been scuffed and scratched beyond repair. But the engine is still running and if you fill our tank with tasty fuel we'll survive for another day.

--- I counted today and I'm only on seven medications. With the co-pay that comes to about $140-$160 a month, money I could have spent over the past three years to pay off my student loans. I take my bitterness over this and shove it under the cabinet in my office. One of these days I'm hoping it will get so large and testy that it will eat one of the office sales people. Hopefully it will be the short, plump one who spoke to me once and when she did she was really nasty. She and her sagging fake breasts can kiss my pimply pale ass.

--- I've watched more movies this year because of Dialysis than I care to mention. "Freedom Writers" and "Reign Over Me" were recent favorites if anyone is keeping score.

--- I couldn't tell you the last time I left town. I think it was to meet my best friend's new baby. That Saturday night I felt this fluid build up in my esophagus and I almost couldn't breathe. I almost made it to the bathroom before I threw up. That makes me a vomiter that last two times I've visited. At least I'm consistent.

--- I've mostly found an inner peace that I didn't have three years ago when I started this frightening adventure. But something feels unfinished and I couldn't tell you what it is. It's like I'm searching for an answer, but I haven't even discovered the question yet.

When I figure out that last one, you'll be the first to know.

Thank you and good night.

Monday, February 26, 2007

An Open Letter to My Dialysis Neighbor

Hello Rude Dialysis Neighbor,

Yeah, it's me again, Skinny Radio Boy. I give you a less than enthusiastic look as I pass you by because I know for the next three hours I'll have to listen to whatever mindless crap you'll be watching as you blast your television volume with no regard for the patients in your vicinity.

You are not elderly. You are not hearing impaired. You are simply a jerk.

I have spoken to you repeatedly on numerous occasions, rather judiciously I might add, that I cannot enjoy my movie when you do this. My sister was kind enough to bestow on her big brother a really cool and theraputic portable DVD player so he can pause his entertainment when nurses won't stop prodding and poking him.

I use what's called "headphones" because I am considerate of those around me. You refuse.

"13 Days" and "Stranger Than Fiction"?? Ruined. The 2nd Season of "Entourage"?? Tarnished.

I have even swallowed some dignity and asked a nearby tech to speak to you.

Oh sure, you obliged. But once they relocate across the clinic, you crank it back up again as loudly as is humanly possible.

My absolute favorite day was when you did this, turned in my direction, and flipped me off. You then mouthed the words, "Fuck off."

I burst out laughing it was so blatantly absurd. And so absolutely you.

Now I have reached a point of no return. I have armed myself with a technological device known as a "Universal Remote."

This device will return the decibal balance to the clinic by turning your TV off. Or muting it. Or simply turning on the blue DVD screen. It's totally up to my personal whim.

I will be stealth in my actions. My acting ability will be at full stength. I imagine you'll call over a tech to ask what's wrong, but to no avail.

I control your universe Mr. Rude Dialysis Neighbor. F*** me?

No sir, quite frankly, fuck you.

Thank you and good night.

Sunday, January 07, 2007


The alarm jolted me awake and my upper body darted up. Just as quickly, I was down again, like a boxer drunk with exhaustion.

I managed to roll out of bed and commence my morning urination. My personal spite against kidney failure, the ability to piss about twice a day.

I slumped over to the mirror and as my head bowed down to accept a face full of water, my brain caught up to the image it had received in the reflection.

It wasn't me.

I glanced up again and any hint of fatigue was washed away.

He was a tall Adonis, tanned and toned. Movie star teeth and coifed hair. But his face was familiar.

"Good morning Stacy, rise and shine."

It took me a few moments to realize my mouth was agape.

"Yes, it's you, but not you. Freaky huh?"

He laughed to himself and it was mine, quick, rapid fire and highly irritating.

I immediately thought I was on one of those wacky camera shows, but it was 8:30 in the morning. And who would want to film in my dumpy apartment?

"Remember that episode of Star Trek where you knew Spock was opposite because he was wearing a goatee?"


"This is nothing like that."

More laughter. I didn't realize how grating I was.

"I'm going back to bed. You're probably an undigested meatball, or that last helping of noodles I shouldn't have had."

"Don't you know who I am Stacy?"

"Well, you look like me and sound like me. You're the healthy twin my parents never told me about."

"Not bad, you're close. I'm Stacey With An E."

"That's very funny."

Mirror Stacey opened the medicine cabinet behind the mirror so his view was blocked for a moment. I thought of running and calling 911, believing the pressures of my Life had gotten the best of me.

He started using some very expensive looking cleanser as he spoke, further irritating me.

"A wise man once said that for every being in the universe, there is a total and complete opposite. Yin and Yang. You get where I'm coming from?"

I mused upon what he said as he started to tweeze his nose hairs. I also remembered that I hadn't tailored mine in some time.

"So what you're saying is, without me you wouldn't exist?"

"No, it's more than that." He had proceeded to work on his ear hair.

"I'm the potential of what you could have been. Without any fathom of your illness, you would have been 6'2". Your hair wouldn't have been falling out and you wouldn't be fatigued. Man, the life you could have had. It's something huh?"

Mirror Stacey began to lather up as the door behind him began to open. A cute little brunette walked in and leaned on his shoulders.

"Good morning baby." She kissed his cheek and proceeded to remove her robe and enter the shower.

"You know, I've got to thank you though Stace. If it weren't for you, I wouldn't be where I am today."

His creepy smile nauseated me. My anger began to boil.

With all my energy I turned and grabbed the steel hamper behind me. I thrust it at the mirror and it shattered completely.

I could still hear the water running while he was shaving. And then my grating laugh faded into the wall.

The glass, much like my Life, lay lifeless on the floor. I just stood there, motionless, still unable to comprehend what had just occured.

I sighed heavily and leaned down to pick up one of the shattered pieces. I grabbed another. They seemed to fit together.

As I turned to throw them into the garbage, the larger sliver sliced open my finger.

I didn't even react to the pain.

And then a thought, innocent at first, and then more vile, began to form.

It involved a piece of the mirror. And my wrists.

Alone and helpless, I shuddered.

I finally had the courage to rise from the floor. I grabbed the broom from the hall closet and began to sweep.

I ended up keeping the piece with my blood on it. It's in my dresser drawer next to my bed inside a used Altoids box.

A sharp reminder of the shattered Life I never had.