In searching for a viable career, I've found that most of the application deadlines for the Fall of 2007 have already lapsed. What's that? Yes, it is highly annoying and somewhat upsetting. Hmm? No, I don't have $42,000 that I can use to buy a degree from Pepperdine. Yes, I suppose you're correct: community college does seem like the only realistic option.

P.S. Taco Bell has not returned my calls.

I tried to post last night, but my internet connection was not so much a connection as it was a disconnection. I wouldn't have said much anyway.

Today I have been discussing among myself the different careers I might try and pursue. Just down the street, Taco Bell is hiring, so that's near the top of the list; though I could probably only last all of about an hour before getting tired of plopping slop into tortillas, rolling them up, and sliding them down a counter. On the other hand, I'm pretty sure that I'm qualified to do it.

I'll let you know how my interview goes.

I knew it was bad news as soon as I saw the envelope: it was far too thin. Many of you know that I applied to a psychology program at a university in Michigan. I was not accepted for admission. Apparently, they were "regretful", or full of regrets, about it. Somehow I doubt the veracity of their words. I'll thank you in advance for your apologetic comments.

You're right, that was a bit sardonic. Perhaps it was even a little acerbic. (Incidentally, these were words that I learned so that I would get a high GRE score and gain admission to the school of my choice; at least I attained the former). I'm allowed to be a little cranky, aren't I?

Today I saw an orthopedic surgeon to find out the results of my recent MRI. He said that my shoulder is fine. Interesting development.

I was under the impression that significant loss of ability and increase of pain was the opposite of fine. He suggested I have another surgeon take a look at my test results. He also diagnosed me with an impingement (when a tendon rubs against a rough patch of bone) and prescribed 6 weeks of physical therapy.

It is interesting to note that 7 years ago, a doctor prescribed me with an impingement and prescribed 6 weeks of physical therapy, saying that my pain would go away and my abilities would return (in a few months), unless I had a torn rotator cuff (in which case I would need surgery). Huh.

Oddly, the pain didn't go away, the abilities didn't return, and the most recent MRI showed that there was no tear in the rotator cuff.

Medicine is voodoo.

I did a little more research into the SLAP tear (what was being tested for today), otherwise known as a frayed or torn labrum (tendon deep in the shoulder). How's this for a quote (found in Slate Magazine, a subsidiary of NPR).

The leading minds in baseball medicine are flummoxed by the labrum. Doctors can't agree on how to detect a tear, don't know the best way to fix one, and aren't sure why, almost without fail, a torn labrum will destroy a pitcher's career... if pitchers with torn labrums were horses, they'd be destroyed. Of the 36 major-league hurlers diagnosed with labrum tears in the last five years, only (one) has returned to his previous level.

Darn it.

I had my MRI and arthrogram today. Not surprisingly, it was less-than-pleasant having a long needle poked into the space of my shoulder joint. The doctor said that I would have a lot of pain in the morning (due to the needle being forced deep into my body), and she said the only medicine I should take is extra-strength Tylenol (to make sure I have clotting in the gaping hole).

I told her that I always take acetaminophen (because I'm cheap). She said, "no, you should take extra-strength Tylenol." I thought, but did not say, "but I thought acetaminophen was the only active ingredient in Tylenol." After all, she's the one who trained for 8 years to be a physician.

When I got home, I looked it up on the internet. The only active ingredient in extra-strength Tylenol? You guessed it, acetaminophen. Who's the doctor now? At least she was nice. Not like I'm going to take anything anyway.

P.S. How about unranked Michigan State taking out Wisconsin, the #1 team in the country? Go Green. I said go.

On tap for tomorrow: an MRI with a shoulder arthrogram.

In lay-speak: 1) some people in white coats are going to numb my shoulder with a magic potion. 2) The white-coats are going to poke a giant needle into my shoulder and inject a different magic potion; this one will travel to the injured places and make them visible on their magic box. 3) The white-coats will then stuff me into a giant magnet, and I will have to lie still for an hour. 4) From another room, the white-coats will look at their magic box; the box will show the inside of my shoulder. 5) The magic box will send video of my shoulder to a magic disc. 6) I will take the magic disc to my surgeon, who will put the disc into his magic box. 7) His magic box will display pictures of my shoulder. 8) I will schedule an appointment with my surgeon so that he can cut a hole in my arm. The end.

And who said medicine isn't a science.

(...actually, that may have been me.)

It sure is quiet around here when Sarah's not home. I've already eaten too much candy and not enough of anything else (I had peas for dinner tonight; she hates peas). It's obviously very exciting; can't you tell from all the exciting things that I've excitedly written about? I have class tomorrow; maybe something interesting will happen there. I doubt it...

Friday night, I had a migraine. It was a doozy, but I am VERY thankful that it went away after about 3 hours. At several points I thought I might throw up. Or pass out. Or both. (I didn't). I probably need to eat more cholesterol.

Today, I played in our church's golf tournament, a four-person scramble. For all you non-aficionados, a scramble is not an egg dish; it's a way to play whereby each player from a team hits, the best shot is chosen, and then each player hits again from the spot where the best hit landed; the process is repeated until the ball goes in the hole; that process is then repeated 17 times (for a total of 18 holes).

In sum: I got some sun (it was 85 today); I hit the ball a ton (that means really far...); it was fun; I ate a bun (and a hot dog); my team won; now it's done; I have to run.

P.S. Sarah flew to Syracuse today to see her sister. When I got home from the airport, I left my shoes in front of the door and used the toilet even though the bathroom door was open. Then I stayed up too late.

P.P.S. When I said Syracuse, I did not mean the Syracuse in Sicily, Indiana, Kansas, Missouri, Nebraska, Ohio, or Utah (though those all would have been valid possibilities, given the facts that they are real places and I was not specific), nor did I mean Syracuse University. I, in fact, meant Syracuse, NY. Just so we're on the same page.

Today we got some steak in the mail; I suspect it was in direct response to my comments about avoiding red meat and having extremely low cholesterol. Thanks Mom and Dad! I love steak! And the dry ice was pretty fascinating as well...

I shared how I recently went to the doctor for my shoulder, but I didn't mention that I also had my cholesterol tested for the first time. As it turns out, avoiding chips, red meat (only because it's expensive), candy, alcohol, cigarettes, and pop is VERY beneficial to one's health. Oh, and walking 15-20 miles per week (with an additional 3 hours of cardiovascular work) helps too. Oh, and so does being 24. Oh, and maybe I actually got some of the good genes for once. Or maybe disaster is lurking around the corner and this is a trick.

In case you were curious:

Total cholesterol: 111 (under 200 is desirable)
LDL: 51 (under 130 is desirable)
HDL: 52 (over 40 is desirable)
Triglycerides: 38 (under 150 is desirable)

In case you want to know more about cholesterol, click here.

If you'd like to listen to my sermon from Sunday, turn your speakers on and then click here.

I'd planned to write something interesting today, and I waited patiently for that something to happen, but it never did. Here's what really happened.


I woke up at 6:45 AM with a savage creature staring unblinkingly in my face. Its steamy breath smelled like rotten salmon; its enormous teeth were stained jaundice-yellow; its beady eyes looked sadly soulless. I cringed, preparing for a crashing blow from one of the beast's massive paws. The first glanced off my shoulder, and I quickly rolled over and buried my head under my pillow, naively seeking its scant protection. Angered, the beast tore at my blankets, scattering them about the room. I rolled over once more and found myself cornered between the leviathan and an unforgiving wall. In a last ditch effort to save myself, I managed a moan: "Five more minutes. Just five more minutes." But she was relentless: "You're going to make us late!" came the annoyed reply.

Happy Valentine's Day Sarah.

Today I tried to call and make an appointment for an MRI. The first time I called, I listened to about 5 minutes of an automated message system. Eventually, I was forwarded to the radiology scheduling department. There, a recorded message informed me that everyone was out to lunch. An hour later, I called back. After 5 more minutes of the automated message system, I was put on hold. A few minutes later, the system hung up on me. I called back a little while later; after 5 minutes with the automated message system, I was put on hold again. For a few minutes, there was soft music and an assuring voice, which told me to stay on the line, because my call was important to them and would be answered in the order it was received. Eventually, the music went away, and I could only hear static. I stayed on the line for a few more minutes (maybe 10) but eventually hung up. Better luck next time. I love hospitals.

Today's sermon went fairly well; if you don't count the mob. But I don't, so it doesn't really matter. Sarah just said, "Are you going to write about another thrilling conversation between you and I...between you and me, even." Then she said, "Please delete the last sentence. Don't make me beg. Please." Then she licked me.

For the record, you pervs, the lick was meant maliciously. I know where your mind immediately and inappropriately wandered. It was sort of like she was trying to give me a wet willy but didn't really know how. It is most likely that she will claim this never happened (especially that last part). But it happened. "Please delete that" she's wailing...

I spent most of the day today working on tomorrow's sermon. Hopefully it will go well. In other news, Sarah just asked me, "Watcha bloggin about?" I replied, "I doan know yet." She said, "What? You doan know yet?" I said, "Yeah." After that, there was some silence. Now, there is more silence. Maybe I'll write some more tomorrow.

I went to see an orthopedist today (orthopaedist, to be technically, rather than colloquially, correct). He said that my arm will halve to be amputated.

Actually, he said that I might have a SLAP tear/lesion (i.e., superior labial anterior to posterior--i.e., a partial ripping in the tendon that runs from the shoulder muscle to the bicep) . Coincidentally, I diagnosed myself with this two weeks ago. Interesting. I have to schedule an MRI next week. Possible treatments include physical therapy (BOOOOOO!!!!!) and arthroscopic surgery (BOOOO!!!! for 4 months of recovery; YAY!!!!! for 25 more years of playing sports). We'll see what happens.

Did you notice my pun?

Tonight I had the rare opportunity to watch the Pistons play (only on TV, not in person; the latter would be significantly more difficult from Orange County). Not that I have anything against the Lakers, but it was fun watching the Pistons systematically destroy them. Speaking of which, I think someone owes me some cash; you know who you are...

Tomorrow (Friday), I've got an appointment with an orthopedist. Hopefully it won't take much to convince him to slice into my shoulder--I would assume he gets paid whether the surgery was necessary or not...

Did you hear about the Malaysian woman who got on the wrong bus and ended up 1200 miles from her home? She only spoke a regional dialect, and once she got so far away, no one could understand her. She spent 25 years in Thailand and never communicated that she was lost (she was a beggar and homeless the entire time). At 76, she eventually ran into someone who spoke her language and has been reunited with her family (they were told by police that she'd been killed in a traffic accident). Yeah, I didn't hear about that either.

Tonight I'm heading to the Honda Center, formerly known as the Arrowhead Pond of Anaheim, formerly known as the Anaheim Arena, for an Anaheim Ducks (formerly known as the Anaheim Mighty Ducks) game (NHL). You might also remember that the Anaheim Angels (MLB), who play across the street from the Honda Center/Arrowhead Pond of Anaheim/Anaheim Arena recently changed their name to the Los Angeles Angels of Anaheim. Some years before that change, they had been called the California Angels.

Let's review.

1) The Anaheim Arena became the Arrowhead Pond of Anaheim which became the Honda Center.

2) The Anaheim Mighty Ducks became the Anaheim Ducks, or, the Ducks, as many call them.

3) The California Angels became the Anaheim Angels who became the Los Angeles Angels of Anaheim.

Does anyone else sense that the city of Anaheim has a problem with identity?

On short notice, I'm preaching Sunday's sermon at church. Yesterday's main point was about my crotch. Interesting turn of events.

Did you hear about the astronaut who was arrested because she attempted to kidnap and perhaps murder the girlfriend of another astronaut who she loved? Me either.

And I thought astronauts were upstanding citizens as a rule. I suppose I'll have to re-evaluate my position on John Glenn.

I got X-rays on my shoulder today. What I thought was nice is that the technicians shielded me from the rays with a lead contraption. You might think that they'd guard my brain, heart, lungs, intestines, kidneys, and liver. They didn't. They guarded my crotch. Interesting choice.

I was watching the Super Bowl today when I saw something strange: someone I knew. Perry Paganelli was the back judge (i.e., one of the referees) for today's game. Mr. Paganelli, as I call him, used to be the assistant principal at Rogers High School in Grand Rapids, Michigan. When I worked at (the institution that shall not be named), he used to call and tell me to immediately come to the school and pick up students (Residents) whom he'd just expelled for doing such various things as punching people, back talking, talking back, swearing, and punching people. Once, I sat in his office; there were a lot of footballs; I got the feeling that he wished he could throw the balls at the students. Maybe I did too.

" 'I was walking down Fifth Avenue today and I found a wallet. I was going to return it, rather than keep it, but I thought: well, if I lost a hundred and fifty dollars, how would I feel? And I realized I would want to be taught a lesson.' "

" 'I ran three miles today. Finally I said, 'Fine, Lady, keep your purse.'"

--Emo Philips