Boston Concluded


One last picture of Meg bundled against the snow. Here she's crunching the snow under her boots because she likes the sound it makes. I do too. Everywhere we went we went trudging through piles of dirty snow just to hear that novel crunchy noise.


One night we went to this psuedo-rave-like party called Carnivale Brasilero. It was essentially the Brazilian festival recreated in a warehouse in Boston. There was a dance lesson for a dance that I can only guess is a modern bastardization of the samba, there was this drumline that played for a good half hour, a live band, imported brazilian beer, hot dancing girls with the big plumed headdresses. It was awesome.


At the Carnivale, Meg's mom was dragged out onto the dance floor by this funny little masked asian man. I'm so glad he did. She was totally flattered and had a ball.


Here's Meg and I trying to do the dance I mentioned above to the band that played after the drumline. They played SO fast that to accomplish the steps at the proper tempo was insanely difficult for newcomers like us. By the way, that beer in my hand is a brazilian import called Brahma. Good stuff.


There were all kinds of people dressed up in various silly costumes. This guy was the best. Mere seconds before this picture he was standing nonchalantly text-messaging someone on the cell phone that you can see is still in his left hand. I asked if I could take his picture, and suddenly he struck this pose. Cool guy. I think he was rolling.

Beyond that we saw a GREAT play called Melancholy Play (I give it 5 stars, and highly recommend it), we saw Halle Berry get roasted by Harvard's theatre club, we ate THE BEST clam chowder EVER, and we saw Colin Ferrell's last flick, New World. Boo on New World, by the way. It was way way way too slow. There are several shots of people walking through tall grass with pretty underscoring that drag the movie out to almost three hours. Visually, it was breath-takingly beautiful, but in three hours there was a total of maybe a half hour's worth of actual dialogue and/or story.

Oh, and when it came time to go to the Carnivale, Meg and I realized that we didn't bring any party gear, not expecting the need for it. All we had were thermals and sweaters. We went to Urban Outfitters to get something, and MAN, did we luck out. Meg found the black top she's wearing above, I found the t-shirt I'm wearing above, and beyond that we got two more t-shirts for me and a pair of yoga pants for Meg. Guess what our total was.

Twenty dollars. Four cool shirts, and a pair of yoga pants for $19.98 to be exact.

Great trip.

FINALLY!

The picture-posting service I have been using for years (mywebpage.netscape.com) has now become so unreliable that it didn't let me in for days, and when it did it took me like a half hour to post these fives pictures. Boo! Word to the wise, go to photobucket.com/ It's still free, but it took just seconds to load these up.


This is what the ground looked like almost everywhere. Apparently they had gotten a ton of snow right before we got there, but by the time we were there it was all in people's yards or plowed into nasty, dirty piles on the sidewalk, so we didn't get to play in any. Though I did trudge through a bunch just because I love the crunchy sound it makes.


This is how we dressed every single day to go out. What you can't see is under my coat is a t-shirt, a thermal undershirt, a sweater, and two scarves and then under the jeans is a pair of thermal pants, sweatpants and two pairs of socks. Meg followed pretty much the same list. The weather hovered from the teens to the twenties for the most part, but it got down to -1 F with the windchill one day. We were still snug as bugs in a rug... well, except for our eyes, they got REALLY cold, and that hurts. And a special shout out to Noel for recommending we get the big, thick-furry-ass boots that you see. Without them our toes would have fallen off.


One of my favorite photographers is a man named Lee Friedlander. He's most famous for his portraits of his shadow and/or reflections in windows and whatnot. Check out the link.


This is a statue of Harvard founder, John Harvard. Legend says that if you touch his shoe you will be blessed with good luck. Note the distinct lack of tarnish on that shoe from all the believers touching it. I must admit, I touched it too.


This has to be the strangest thing I have ever seen while on vacation. Down the block from Meg's mom's house was this microwave just chilling on the sidewalk like it belonged there. It wasn't trash day, and it wasn't even in front of a house. Things like this always make my imagination run wild with ideas of how or why it got there. I'm sure it was just as mundane as it broke, so some guy just threw it on the curb rather than dispose of it properly, but still...

More tomorrow.

COMMENTS

As a Minnesotan, I have point out that you guys are sissies . -1 F is shorts and t-shirt weather, dag nub it!
Josh 02.24.06 - 4:08 pm

Did you bring back that microwave... because I could use a new one.
therealdavid 02.24.06 - 7:30 pm

If you include windchill I have been in -40 F myself so I knows me some cold, and you're a silly man. Shorts and t-shirts? Come on.
I will admit that the first day it was in the low 50's for the afternoon and I was walking around in just a polo and jeans. I secretly laughed at all the Bostonians walking around in their coats while I carried mine.
Joey 02.24.06 - 10:55 pm

OK I totally sympathize with the hassle of wearing more layers than you ever thought humanly possible... Paris gets really COLD... i don't know what i would do without my long underwear(Yes I admit I am the loserface that wears long underwear like all the time!) Freaking Arizona spoils you with beautiful weather! You don't understand unless you lived there... You mean I can't wear flip flops and tank tops all year long? what is this world coming too?
Summer 02.28.06 - 7:35 pm

Tonight I leave for Boston. I have mixed feelings about this trip, but it should be fun.

See you next monday, with pictures and some good stories, I hope.

COMMENTS:

Boston is fantastic.
Josh 02.15.06 - 11:35 pm

Interference doesn't "only" work when you are conscious. You seem to be using the ego, id, and superego definitions of consciousness. I believe that there isn't a hierarchical separation of "drives" but that the mind is more like an orchestra with different instruments and even whole sections playing at different volumes at different times. Believing that when you're unconscious you are suddenly stripped of mental "defenses" is still self-defeating. You're not at war here with your own mind. You're trying to align your desires with existing processes. I think.
Guillermo 02.20.06 - 7:25 pm

I don't think you understood me quite right. Unless you can come to the realization that you are dreaming, you are not in any kind of control of your mental state when you are asleep. Things that might normally seem perfectly mundane may scare the sh*t out of you, or mosters that don't exist in reality might pop out. Most people aren't able to control their responses to these stimuli in dreams, unless they become aware that it is a dream, and even then, sometimes, the fear response can be uncontrollable.
In my case, the bang in the middle of the night put me into the car wreck in my dreams and created the very physical "shock" response in my body. This caused me to wake up screaming. That is what I meant by not being able to interrupt that pattern while unconcious.
I'm not suggesting I'm at war here, and I don't even know why you said that. I'm saying that I'm learning how to break that pattern in the waking hours, but it's hard to prevent something that happens in my mind when I am asleep. I'd like to see anybody prevent nightmares, or even less likely, prevent an irrational reaction to a nightmare when one does not know it is a nightmare.
Joey 02.21.06 - 4:51 pm

About ten minutes after I wrote all that last comment, I realized where the miscommunication happened.
Gurg said: "You seem to be using the ego, id, and superego definitions of consciousness."
Not at all. I was using the awake or asleep definitions of conciousness.
In that previous post about the waking up screaming, I meant to say that in sleep all our guards are dropped. Nothing at all about id or ego or any of that.
Joey 02.22.06 - 2:13 am

Oh! Also, a post about Boston is forth-coming. My picture hosting site was being flakey this afternoon, so I gave up and will try again tomorrow.
Joey 02.22.06 - 2:21 am

I'm not sure where this all went wackey and I'm not sure if you've discussed this in person.
Joey experienced sever trauma which left a very big "footprint" on his mind and body. We all know this as Operant Conditioning. Our "body" I believe also has the capacity to store residual memories inside of it, to reinforce learning I'm sure.
Joey needs to work on removing the association of loud bangs with the accident. Ideally this is pretty simple if you ask me but is joey ready to let go?
mulk 02.23.06 - 1:06 pm

You may remember a post some time in maybe mid January wherein I mention that I hadn't worked out in more than a month, so I decided to workout until I threw up that day.

It never happened.

I got distracted, or found other things to do, or something, but I just didn't do it.

A couple days ago I hit the gym finally. I did a very light strength workout over my whole body, just to wake up the muscle groups. I did three sets of one excercise on each group, with a moderate weight that allowed me to reach ten to twelve reps each set.

I'm still sore today. Blech.

Not much else to report. Yesterday I ran a bunch of errands. Got myself boots for this Boston trip coming up. It should be fun. Meg is very excited and I haven't seen snow in years.

Yesterday was a so-so day.

After finally falling asleep around 6 am I slept until noon to catch up. Then I... didn't do much. I made sure to do the things I've been doing that have been helping me to cope, but not much else.

I went for a little walk. I got a little sun. I played a little guitar. I took my vitamins and drank plenty of water. I made sure to smile a few times, even though I didn't want to. Essentially, I spent most of the day still kind of recovering from the panic attack last night. I wasn't in a bad mood per se, but I couldn't seem to shake that last little shadow of the night before. It lasted until early this evening.

In the evening, Ryan came and took me to a little coffee shop over by ASU and we just sat and read and talked and joked around. It was nice and quiet. It was the highlight of my day really.

I've also been doing the Tony Robbins program again. For those of you laughing at me right now, I have to tell you that I am a HUGE skeptic when it comes to those self-help motivational guys. I've seen and heard a few before that made me laugh out loud. This guy is different. He doesn't throw a bunch of hippy positive-thinking crap at you. He doesn't actually tell you anything that you don't already know. He just reminds you of how your behavior operates and why, and puts it into context for you. We all know on some level what's going on inside our heads, even if we're lying about it, the truth is in there. He just helps you dig that out and shows you how to change the stuff you don't like for yourself.

In fact, Guillermo touched on a couple of the key things in the comment he wrote on yesterday's post. He mentions interfering with patterns and changing associations and whatnot. Those are the two biggest elements of what Tony Robbins gets at. It's really helpful stuff.

Holy Hell

I had been asleep for barely a few minutes. I was in that stage where the very earliest meandering nonsense of a dream was commencing... when it happened.

Something fell in the bathroom with a loud bang.

Normally that would startle me out of slumber and possibly leave me frustratingly wide awake at 3 am. Since the accident, there's a new level.

I was screaming and crying hysterically and shivering from the artificial cold feeling that one gets when one is in shock before I even knew I was awake. Only after I finally calmed down did I become aware what had actually happened. The first thing that I was aware of was my face buried in my hands which were dripping with tears and Meg's soothing voice in my ear. All I can guess is the bang was enough to trigger the memory of the bang the cars made when we were hit. It sent me flying right back into the mental state I was in immediately following the accident. This is further evidenced by the fact that my head, neck, kidney and knee were aching as well.

A couple weeks ago while drivign home I ran over a loose manhole cover that made a loud bang. The panic attack began, but I was quickly able to subdue it and remind myself that I was fine. Yesterday I stopped in to the gym and while I was there a guy dropped a barbell, and the same thing happened. I think this one tonight was worse because I was already in that fragile, vulnerable part of the mind that we go into when we sleep. I was already so close to this pain that it didn't take much to send me out of control.

Irrational reactions like this make me wonder how many other things I'm reacting badly too that I shouldn't be. Am I lashing out too much? Am I moping too much? How much of what I am right now is bullsh*t from the accident, and how much is actually me? Or how much of this bullsh*t from the accident is actually me from now on? The same questions run through my mind about Noel. For her the complications have to be much worse. Her brain is still recovering from very tangible physical damage as well as the emotional trauma of this whole experience, whereas mine is recovering only from the latter.

I know that this whole thing will take time to get over, but I have never been known for my patience.

COMMENTS:

Sorry guys, it's not going to be the usual fun and games on here for a little while.
Just know that it means a lot to me that you still come to read this stuff. I know it's hard to know what to say when I am like this, but please leave me notes of support on the comments. It will mean the world to me to know that you care.
Thanks, and love to you all.
Joey 02.09.06 - 5:43 am

Have you thought about seing a psychologist? It might help.
Maybe 02.09.06 - 10:29 am

In general, most lashing out is too much, as well as moping. From what little I understand about neural pathways and how they form, I suggest building interference. I'm not sure how to start associate loud banging noises with positive things, but writing about searching for a solution is a good start. Maybe grab some of that ol' artistic skill and go at to town. Catharsis Town.
I just noticed that your haloscan ads think you are a struggling teen. Or a wilderness creature.
Guillermo 02.09.06 - 3:15 pm

I fully agree about any lashing out being too much, i was just unsure if i was lashing out or not in general. I don't think I am. I don't seem to have the energy to reach anger easily lately.
The moping too, and it's already getting better. I must have read the same sources as you, because I've been working on that interference and associations thing you mentioned. It's helping little by little.
And, thank you for your suggestion, whoever you are, Mr or Ms Maybe. I have gotten that one alot, so I am not offended. Why hide behind an alias? It's easy to be brave online, and even easier when you don't identify yourself. Just drop the pretense and claim your words, please.
Joey 02.09.06 - 9:08 pm

Oh, and the "interference" thing works ONLY when you are concious. Like I said, I was able to interfere with the pattern with the manhole cover bang, and the one at the gym, and settle myself pretty quickly, but the one in the middle of the night came during sleep where all mental guards are dropped. The reaction took place before I was even actually awake. No way to prevent that.
Joey 02.09.06 - 9:12 pm

Dream just now

I am at a party at... I don't know whose house. I've never been to this place in reality, but it kind of looked a little like the BAG. The walls in the main room are pink like the BAG's kitchen. I'm hanging out with my girls, who in this dream are both still my girls.

Noel starts to tell me that she's upset about the time I made out with Mollie. In the dream, I say something like "but that was so long ago" when in real life it has never happened. Mollie is also sitting close by, so I take Noel by the arm and lead her down the hallway where we can talk in private. Even though she's upset with me, it's a mild upset and she's still being physically affectionate. As we talk I'm petting her shoulders and her hands are on my chest. First I ask her "okay, now what's wrong?" Then I cut her off and say "hang on, we were followed. Hi Mollie." Mollie and Phil were sneaking behind us down the hallway to listen. There's a door right near by, so I open it.

The outside of the door is covered in a tropical kind of painting. There are big green leaves and parrots and tucans, all done in a cartoony style. I open it and it's a bathroom painted to go along with the door. The inside of the room is painted in all dark blues and greens and matching tile. Very small bathroom, but not cramped. I sit down on the lid of the toilet seat and pull her on to my lap. Now I ask her again to tell me what's wrong. We talk for a little bit, but what was said didn't make it to me waking up. I don't remember.

Then, things seem to fast forward. The next thing I know I'm hanging out at my apartment with Brian, Vega, Meg, my brother, and Beno. I'm laying on the floor, and most everyone else is sitting on the futon, or sitting on the floor around the coffe table. And I'm telling them about what Noel was upset about and asking their advice. I'm also mentioning the fictitious Mollie-makeout and suddenly realize she's probably here too. Then I look around and she's not. "Did she leave?" I ask. Everyone seems to think she left, but somehow I didn't notice.

There is a loud car horn from outside. It lasts a good four or five seconds. For some reason this triggers an irrational dream-leap-of-logic. I think that there could be zombies outside and that the long horn was some guy who died against his steering wheel and came back shortly after. I go to the door to have a look outside. Instead of the peephole we have in our real life there is a small window up at the top of the door. I stand up and see a scary-looking man out on the landing. I'm about to say that there really are zombies, but I don't get to it. Without warning or anything, and without seeing the man's weapon there is an enormous BANG and I feel an intense, sharp pain in the upper part of my chest. At the same time, the window splinters, but not like you would expect in reality. The spider web crack that formed wasn't contained by the window frame, but filled my vision and became a part of my vision. It was as if the lenses of my eyes were cracked and not the glass. I suddenly know I've been shot in the chest. All I know is an intense pain and the spatter of my blood is all over the door. I can't talk. I stagger back a bit and I hear Meg gasp in panic when she grasps what has just happened.

Then I wake up with a start.

After I woke up I realized that the sound of the BANG and the accompanying physical sensations in my chest were identical to the events of the car accident in December.