Life is a Journey, Why Not Share it?

This is an oldie but goodie, that I had to revive from the old blog… It’s sound advice. I really feel bad for this poor bastard.

Don’t Shave That Hair!!!

I have recently made a mistake in my life, and I offer my story to you, that you may learn from my error. It all started, as many things do, with me having trouble shitting.

No, I was not constipated; this was not a regularity problem but a matter of technique. It seems my ass-hair had grown to such a length that tiny grogans were constantly getting tied up in the matted jungle between my ass cheeks. It led to much frustration, with me KNOWING that I still had something to drop, but unable to shake the tenacious turd loose from its butt hair dwelling. Eventually I would have to do two things: either reach down with some paper and try to pinch off the lingering loaf (which required careful precision to avoid smearing the creature all over my rear, especially since I had no way of seeing what I was doing) or just go for broke, start wiping, and hope that I could remove all the leftover fecal matter before the toilet paper reached its Can’t-Be-Flushed threshold.

I was contemplating this problem, when I had what seemed at the time to be a bright idea. “Hey! This is my butt and my butt-hair, right? So why don’t I just eliminate all the hair, and then my grogans will flow out like beer from a keg!” I said to myself. It is a statement that will go down in history with a lot of other regretted statements. “How many Indians could there be?” said by General Custer. “Looks like a good day for a drive!” by JFK. “There! America On-Line now has complete Usenet access!” by some idiot system tech. Such was my anal shaving idea.

I performed the operation that night, with a cheap disposable razor and a towel to sit on. Starting from the bottom, and shaving from the crack to the cheeks, I began the arduous process of ridding my ass of hair. Occassionally, I would have to clean the razor of accumulated hair and miscellaneous slime, which I did by wiping it on the towel. Slowly, my twin mounds and the between-ravine began to resemble the hairless cheeks of a newborn baby. Finally, I wiped the razor one last time, and surveyed my work. The towel was covered with a pile of hair. My ass was smooth as ivory. I smiled, satisfied, thinking my troubles were over.

Little did I know.

I now have a great respect for anal-hair. Like everything in this world God created, it has its mighty purpose in existence. It was only after I had removed it that I started to learn how much I had been taking it for granted. For one, it provides friction. I learned this the next day, when I walked out into the sun heading for class. After climbing two flights of stairs and starting to sweat, I started to notice something unpleasant. The sweat was accumulating in my crack, and was causing the unpleasant sensation of my two asscheeks sliding past each other with every step. I thought about going to the bathroom and wiping it off, but had to get to class. Eventually, I thought, it would dry.

Unfortunately, it did dry, but only after mingling with the microscopic shit- molecules lingering around my brown starfish. When I stood up after class, my cheeks were stuck together with a slimy sticky shit/sweat combination. As I made my way back to my dorm, it started to itch. God-DAMN, did it itch! Felt like a swarm of ants was making its way up and down my crack. Fighting to keep from jamming my hand down there and scratching away, I rushed back to the dorm.

Unfortunately again, this exertion caused me to sweat, and when I finally reached my room, my cheeks were sliding back and forth against each other like a pair of horny cane-toads. I quickly dropped my pants, and attempted to dry my ass off by sticking it in front of a fan and spreading my cheeks. As I pulled the two mounds of flesh apart, a horrible stench burst free and filled the room. Every dog within a 4 block radius started to howl. I had it worst of all, as the ripe aroma of festering shit/sweat went into the fan and blew back into my face. I fought to keep from heaving. And as I sat there, fighting vomit, my ass cheeks spread and dripping, with the concentrated aroma of my body odor mixed with the tangy smell of my own shit blowing right into my face, I had only one thought: “It will be like this until the hair grows back. Weeks.”

Later on, trying to deal as best I could, wiping my ass at every opportunity, I discovered another wonderful use for ass-hair – ventilation. I attempted to launch a fart, only to have it get stuck between my asscheeks. Apparently, with no hair, the two pink twins can get vacuum sealed together, and the result was a frustrating fart that slid up and down between my cheeks like a lost gerbil.

As if that wasn’t enough, I am now enduring further torture. As anyone who has ever shaved anything knows, when hair is first growing in, it comes in as stubble. Imagine your ass having the texture of a brillo pad. Well, that is what I am dealing with now. It is a hellish torture, and there are many times when I just look out the window and contemplate why I shouldn’t just jump out and get it all over with in one fleshy splat, rather than endure this constant agony.

Friends, DON’T SHAVE YOUR ASS-HAIR!

Last night I had a very peculiar dream. I dreamed that I and the woman I love were both Dolphins. I remember swimming around together, rubbing against each other as we glided through the water, and I even remember having some crazy dolphin sex, which seemed particularly odd.

At one point we came to the surface together and stuck our heads up into the air to gaze at the earthly horizon. We peered about a bit, taking it all in, finding it all terribly boring compared to our world under the waves. I remember seeing a storm, a terrible storm far off on the horizon and having this feeling of impending doom. We both agreed we had to get to the shore to warn the humans.

We swam towards the shore, and as we got closer we seemed to morph into humans, taking our real-life forms. We immediately rant to alert the authorities, but as we ran through this strange town we realized it was abandoned. Had the humans already known about this impending doom and fled? There was no way to know. We decided to take shelter in a building and try to weather out the storm. At some point, we began to make love, and I remember this intensely erotic scene and feeling as we were making love in the midst of this raging storm outside… Unfortunately I awoke before the dream went any further… Ironically I awoke to a call from the woman…

This super-girl can rescue me any time…

I have finally been able to start catching up on some projects I have been falling behind on.  It’s great to feel like I am catching up a bit, but at the same time all the web development work I have been doing is also getting a little frustrating. I think it may be time to take a day or two off to just hang-out… Maybe go to a museum or at least go for a walk.

It would definitely be nice to be able to get out and take some more photos…

When you absolutely have to haul ass…

Accept no substitute.

A Marine’s letter home, with its frank description of life in “Dante’s inferno,” has been circulating through generals’ in-boxes. We publish it here with the author’s approval

Written last year, this straightforward account of life in Iraq by a Marine officer was initially sent just to a small group of family and friends. His honest but wry narration and unusually frank dissection of the mission contrasts sharply with the story presented by both sides of the Iraq war debate, the Pentagon spin masters and fierce critics. Perhaps inevitably, the ‘Letter from Iraq’ moved quickly beyond the small group of friends and hit the in-boxes of retired generals, officers in the Pentagon, and staffers on Capitol Hill. TIME’s Sally B. Donnelly first received a copy three weeks ago but only this week was able to track down the author and verify the document’s authenticity. The author wishes to remain anonymous but has allowed us to publish it — with a few judicious omissions.

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I’ve been really busy lately… I’ve been swamped with little projects here and there and I have been using that as an excuse to justify my procrastination on making more posts here… My lack of posts certainly isn’t due to a lack of ideas or interests. It’s been a matter of keeping myself motivated enough to actually sit down and write. I need to learn to “Just do it”.

I’ve been reading a lot over at LifeHacker. For those not in the know, it’s a blog all about Getting things Done (GtD), and it has provided me with some really good ideas on getting things done, and making more free time for myself. But i still have a lot to work on.

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Sometimes I can not help but wonder if I may be bi-polar. When I am feeling good, I feel really good. But when I am feeling down, I feel really depressed. Today has been kind of a ‘blah‘ day for me. It’s been a day of deep introspection, light chores, and a lot of loafing.

I have so many personal projects I want to work on, and I actually seem to have plenty of time to do it, but I’m unmotivated. By all means, nearly everything in my life is going really well right now, but for some reason I still feel uneasy and dis-satisfied. I have decided to seek out a local sangha, in the hopes that spending some time with like minded people will help me keep focused on my positive energies.

In the mean time, just writing this post is making me feel a little better. I am well aware that this post will likely never be read by anyone. But taking the time to express myself, and knowing that it could be read, is enough to help for now.

I believe that life is a journey, and like all journeys, it is better when it is shared… This will be my blog to share parts of my life journey with you, my readers. I have no idea where this blog will go, because I have no idea where my life will take me, but it’s bound to be interesting. I also hope to share some of my thoughts, dreams, and perhaps some stories.

Anyone who knows me knows that I tend to be overly romantic. I romanticize nearly every aspect of my life, and it often leads me to pain & disappointment, hence the name “Quixotic Journey”.

The old adage “Don’t go to bed angry” has a kernel of truth behind it. Anger isn’t something you can sleep off — the stress of an argument or a bad day actually stays in your body, researchers suggest.When older adults go to bed feeling lonely, sad or overwhelmed, they wake up with elevated levels of the stress hormone cortisol in the blood, according to a study published today in the Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences.

This is the first study to document how day-to-day experiences can affect stress hormone levels in the brain. Experience influences stress hormones, and stress hormones influence experience, the study’s findings suggest.

Scientists already believe that chronically high cortisol levels can cause certain physical or emotional illnesses. Now it seems that high cortisol levels on one day just carry over to the next day.

Scientists looked at 156 older adults — between the ages of 54 and 71 — to see whether cortisol levels during a single day reflected feelings from the night before, or if those hormone levels would affect a day’s behavior. Over three days, volunteers gave small saliva samples three times a day and described their feelings every night in a diary.

Adults who reported feeling lonely at night were more likely to have higher cortisol levels the next morning, meaning that a few hours’ rest did not wash away any stress.

But the study’s authors suggest a little extra stress hormone isn’t necessarily a bad thing. That stress could prepare our bodies for the day ahead.

“Elevated levels of cortisol actually cue the body that it is time to rev up to deal with loneliness and other negative experiences,” says lead study author Emma Adam, assistant professor of education and social policy and a faculty fellow at the Institute for Policy Research at Northwestern University.

In other words, older adults who go to bed feeling battle-weary, wake up with their stress hormones high and ready to fight.

“You’ve gone to bed with loneliness, sadness, feelings of being overwhelmed. Then along comes a boost of hormones in the morning to give you the energy you need to meet the demands of the day,” says Adam.

Over time, however, elevated cortisol levels actually wear the brain and the body out. “Cortisol levels often reflect the emotions people are experiencing,” says Dr. Bruce Rabin, a professor of pathology and psychiatry, and medical director at the University of Pittsburgh Medical Center Healthy Lifestyle Program

“When our cortisol levels are too high, that can affect both our mental and physical health.”

For example, if cortisol levels are always high, the parts of the brain that normally handle stress can wear out, so the body can’t react to stress the way it used to. That’s not a good thing, experts say, because our survival depends on our ability to recognize and react to stressful events.

“Cortisol helps us respond to stressful experiences and do something about them,” says Adam.

“It is necessary for survival — fluctuations in this hormone assist us in meeting the changing demands we face in our daily lives.”

The good news is, there are a lot of ways to deal with the demands of daily life that will keep our brains calm instead of wearing them down, such as “having friends, being optimistic, being physically fit — just walking, having a sense of humor,” says Rabin.

Experts say taking a deep breath at night, or whenever you feel stressed, can help you have a calm night and a better day tomorrow.