June 7, 2006

  • So, the gay marriage ban was not approved. For now. Something tells me,
    we haven't heard the last of this. I'm sure it will be back the next
    time the Republicans need to get their base fired up. You should have
    seen the Daily Show last night, it was funny as hell, and Jon Stewart
    really deabated this author pretty good on the gay marriage issue.

    I've noticed people have stopped updating their Xangas on a regular
    basis.........what gives, people. You need to........what is the
    opposite of get a life..........oh, I know, you need to live less and
    go online more so that you can update your Xanga. If people don't
    support this "internet" thing, than it may fail.

    I was reading Time's list of the world's 100 most influential people
    and I have to tell you, I'm a little disappointed that I'm not on the
    list. I mean, first, People leaves me off the 50 most beautiful people
    list and now this. I mean, what does a guy have to do to get some love
    around here? Maybe I will just wait for their 100 least interesting and
    funny looking list, I'm a cinch to be in the top 10 of that.

    ::Sigh: really I've got nothing else for now. I guess its time to take
    a trip down memory lane, to the time when I separated my shoulder
    playing baseball.

    Flashback to Wednesday July 4, 2001. We were playing baseball and I was
    playing right field in the top of the first inning. My left handed
    hitting cousin was up to bat, and he usually could hit the ball pretty
    damn far. Anywho, right field was right next to the parking lot, which
    was, obviously, right next to the street. He hit a ball that was
    ticketed for the street, or so I thought so. We didn't have many balls
    so I wanted to prevent this from reaching the street. I was running, at
    full speed mind you, after this ball when I came off the grass and into
    the lot. I had my eyes focused entirely on the ball and never saw the
    step onto the blacktop. I stumbled and tried to keep my footing but saw
    another area of grass, I thought that if I could just not fall until I
    got there, I would save myself a lot of scraps and bruises and maybe
    even stay on my feet. However, I hit the step that leads to that area
    of grass and hit the grass hard onto my right shoulder, rolling over.
    It was instant pain, but all I could hear in the background was Jt (who
    was playing centerfield at the time) laughing really hard at what just
    happened. I can't blame him, I would have been laughing too if I had
    seen it. Anywho, hearing the laughing made me think "Its just a
    scrape", so I popped right up, kinda embarrassed at what just happened.
    I started to jog back to the field but stopped, grabbing my shoulder.
    Everybody started to ask me if I was ok and I said yeah, I was fine,
    not wanting to make a big deal out of it...........mainly, because I
    was embarrassed.

    At the end of the inning, I went into the dugout and pulled my shirt
    down and looked at the damage. Although it hurt, and pretty bad, I
    might add, it was just a few scrapes, I assumed it was nothing. So, I
    went to bat. Each swing was excruciating, but somehow, I managed to
    make contact a few times throughout the course of the day. Midway
    through the game, I had not had a ball hit in my direction when finally
    one came my way and the pain I felt throwing it back to the infield,
    well, it probably was the worst pain I ever felt. I let out a loud
    scream and was beginning to think that I had done some damage to it. A
    few innings later, somebody called last inning and I quickly agreed,
    saying that no matter what, I was done after this inning.

    After the game, we went back to my house to bbq, before Dave, Kelli, Jt
    and I headed over to Naperville's Ribfest to see one of Dae's bands
    perform. The whole time, I was in serious pain, even walking hurt, and
    with the large crowd, I bumped into people several times which, to be
    blunt, hurt like a motherfucker. That night, I went to bed and had one
    of the worst nights sleep I ever had, for starters I like to sleep on
    my right side which I was not able to do. Plus, I was simply in too
    much pain to jerk off. Yeah, I know, it was that bad. Like I said, the
    worst pain I ever felt. As I laid in bed, I said that
    if I wasn't better by Monday, I would go to the doctor. I was working
    2nd shift at the time and got up about 10ish and stood up to put on my
    shorts. Trying to lower my shorts onto my legs was an incredible
    amount of pain. I called Jt and told him about it and he said that if I
    was in that much pain, I should go to the doctor. I  thought about
    it and said that if I wasn't better by tomorrow, Friday, I would go.
    Notice, the days keep moving up.

    Now, I had only been at AAA for a few months and was extremely
    reluctant to call off work, so I painfully showered and headed in. I
    got to work and told my boss what had happened. She asked me if I was
    ok and I said yes, although as I sat there, grimicing and groaning as I
    tried to type, my co workers encouraged me to go to the doctor or
    emergency room. Finally, after an hour, I did just that, driving all
    the way to Bolingbrook Medical Center where I found out I had a first
    degree separation of my right shoulder. In layman's terms, I fucked my
    shit up and it hurt like a motherfucker. I was told to go to a
    specialist who deals with dumbasses that do stupid shit like what I had
    done. The next day, I had Jt take me to the doctor and no, he did not
    push it back into place or anything like that. He just told me to wear
    a sling and that it could take 6 months to a year to fully heal. In
    fact, he even said that in a way, it will never heal and I will
    sometimes have pain in my shoulder. I had to see the doctor every 2 or
    3 weeks for the next couple of months. To this day, I still
    occasionally get pain in my shoulder, especially if I sleep on it
    wrong.

    It wasn't a fear of doctors that kept me from going. Honestly, I don't
    mind doctors so much. But, instead, I was kind of in denial, I didn't
    think I could hurt myself in such a simple, yet stupid way. Because of
    this, I was embarrassed to think that I might have really fucked
    something up.

    As for the ball, I did manage to angrily pick it up shortly after
    getting up. It never did make it to the street, it stopped rolling at
    the grass that was before the curb. Shit, if only Steve Bartman was
    there, none of this would have happened.