43rd post

Sometimes I replay conversations in my head. Sometimes previous conversations just pop into my head. The latter happened about an hour ago. A conversation from yesterday was replayed. Something was mentioned about my blog, I replied, etc… I am not thrilled about my end of the conversation. I don’t try to hide the fact I had a transplant (or I would take this blog down (As if anyone is reading)) but I don’t exactly advertise it either.

One of my medications is supposed to make me say things before I have a chance to realize what I am saying. I don’t buy it. On the other hand, me saying things I wish I hadn’t said has been much more of a theme for 2010. Sometimes the best thing to do is to just shut up. So I am.

42nd post

***I’m a bit apprehensive about this post. But I’m going to keep it up, unlike my last one***

****Why I’m a liar. I deleted a large paragraph. My desire for honesty was at war with me knowing who the audience of this blog is. If you want to know what I deleted, just ask me****

A quick recap. I posted post 41 in May. It was a happy post. I only wrote fuck a couple of times. In it, I noted my new happy, jolly disposition. About two weeks after that I wrote a 42^nd post. I read it the next day and it was so full of hate and bile that I first edited it, then still dissatisfied, I deleted the post. That’s the first time I’ve ever deleted a post. I’m sorta sad I did. I don’t even remember what the post was about. I’m assuming it was backlash against my previous post, but I just don’t remember.

I do remember my commentary where I talked about my friend Forrest and how he could always make me laugh no matter how pissed I was by listening to my anger, looking at me and saying “Angry youth, grrrr…” Made me laugh every time. I recently tried a version of this at work. I did not get quite the same results.

So why am I writing now? I don’t know. Because I can’t get into my work right now, I suppose. Today at work someone commented how much nicer I am now. Honestly, I don’t really see a difference. Maybe there is. I don’t know. Everything is a jumble.

Here is the thing about this type of post. I hate posts that aren’t funny. What’s the point of reading them? Here is the other thing, I’ve sat here about a half hour and haven’t thought of anything funny to write. So I’m guess I’m going to end the post.

41st post

***I actually did what I mentioned in point number 4 and cleaned up the first 18 posts***

This is my first post since September of last year (2009), about 8 months. A few quick observations:

1. I didn’t swear nearly as much as I thought I did in earlier posts, though it was still too much
2. One may characterize my pre-transplant mood as “angry”
3. Rereading my posts, the only thing that sucks worse than my writing are my editing skills
4. I think my earliest posts were my best ones, and now I feel bad that they have corrupted characters making them almost impossible to read. I may try to do something about that

Anyway, I had this idea for a post, which is why I’m back. That and I haven’t written the word fuck in awhile. Fuck.

I went camping a couple of weeks back with my daughter for Indian Princesses. It was slightly different than camping a year ago. So I thought I would take the post about last year’s camping and contrast it with this year’s camping trip. Talking about the heart transplant, how much better things were, all that happy shit.
Except, as I just discovered, I never wrote about last year’s trip. What the fuck? I mean what kind of fucking fucktard doesn’t write about that camping trip last year? That was where I got to see just how limited I really was. I couldn’t walk up a flight of stairs. I had to start back 10 minutes before everyone else and they still passed me. I couldn’t walk around the fucking camp for the final ceremony. How am I going to point out the difference between the years when I didn’t write original post? I can’t fucking believe myself.

So, now that I failed myself and you my dear readers (a quick aside: I don’t know why I’m using the plural form of reader, I haven’t posted to this blog in 8 months. Who the fuck is still checking for updates?) You will deprived of that post.
I did really like camping though. It was kind of weird. As I walked on paths and such I distinctly remembered how hard things were last year. I remembered how it took me 20 minutes to walk up stairs built into the side of a hill that took me maybe two minutes this year. I remember walking back from the rock wall last year and getting turned around, so I discovered I had been walking the wrong way for 10 minutes. And I remember wanting to sit down on the side of the trail and cry because I didn’t think I would be able to make it back. (I did not in fact cry, I just got pissed and kept walking) This year I was the guy running up the hill multiple times to take the rope back for a zip line. This year I was racing my daughter (and winning) to the bathroom that was a couple of hundred yards away. Running the rope for the zip line was the best. Just running, not full out, but running, knowing I could run faster if I wanted to, not getting tired, wind blowing through my luxurious, princely locks. Ugh. That last sentence is so filled with saccharine that I sort of want to vomit, but it doesn’t change the way that I felt, so fuck you.

A lot of the anger is gone. I mean it’s just not there. I’m not in a rage when I walk from my car to my office. I’m not furious at people for walking around with healthy hearts. It just sorta evaporated. That’s not to say I’m suddenly in the land of milk and honey, but the anger certainly is less. Luckily, the fucking swearing certainly isn’t.

P.S. Look, I said I noticed that I wrote horribly and edited even worse, not that I was going to improve upon them.