Author Archives for Viserys

Rolling with the Punches

“… a lot of us do (get bummed) at certain times. You look at the world and go, ‘Whoa.’ Other moments you look and go, ‘Oh, things are okay.'” — Robin Williams

I guess I should probably stop texting first to see if others want to initiate conversation with me. I fear that when someone new comes into my life I get a little intensive when it comes to getting to know them. I fear that it is so much that it makes them shy away from me and then our conversations just keep getting shorter and shorter. I’ll do my best to open up and speak my mind only to get a few word responses after each text until it eventually just stops. And then I just step back into my shell until I’m ready to break-through again for another person. Most boring guy ever…

I miss my youth. I miss my youth terribly. I miss when we were young and you could meet someone during the summer and you’d just chill with that person the whole summer and develop a lasting friendship. The boys of summer… Now everyone is just so immersed into themselves.

Awkwardly, the best way to get to know me is unfortunately in writing, texting or e-mail. I have so much trouble trying to convey myself or articulate myself into words verbally. It would be nice also if I didn’t abruptly end conversations with people in the hopes that I don’t have to talk anymore to not sound stupid and unknowledgeable. It would also be nice if I wasn’t hard of hearing.

Let’s face it, my memory and reading retention is at an all-time low. Unless it’s a report in writing, good luck trying to get a summary of a certain book or current events orally. I seem to lose focus fast even when I’m reading things that I really like. I can’t seem to finish anything anymore. My downfall. I need someone to push me and get things out of me otherwise getting to know me truly will be a difficult task. Or maybe I just need to accept that I’m purely a failure. A failure at everything and everyone that comes across my path. Personal, not business.

I didn’t take my meds for 2 days and didn’t feel much different until this morning. I feel troubled by the fact that I need to rely on this little purple pill (lpp) to be taken daily in order to keep my mood stabilized and in good spirits. This lpp also helps me to be more productive and gives me motivation to be all that I can be as if I’m in the Army. I’ve been up and down most of this month and the last though I feel mostly up when I’m surrounded by people, mainly friends, and down when either alone or around strangers, other than clients. It’s mainly when I’m alone when the mask comes off and the worry and inner demons set in. My closest friends always seem to know when I’m having an off day if I’m hanging out with them on that specific day. I am hoping there will come a time that I can ween off of this lpp.

Who would want to get to know a mess like me?

I think people have a misconception of me. Sometimes I feel that people think that I spend money on others for people to like me which couldn’t be farther from the truth. If I have the money to spend, I like to share in the good times. If I buy dinner at a fancy restaurant, awesome!, maybe you can return the favor someday in the future. If not, oh well, at least we had a good time. I also like to help people if it’s truly for a worthy cause moreso individually rather than group. If it’s a group cause, I would rather volunteer my person than offer a monetary donation.

Maybe I should do some actual work at work for a change…

Forever Autumn

It’s been a while since I have written.  Tonight I just returned from driving some repeat clients to the Moody Blues concert in Syracuse and back.  I should have purchased a ticket to that concert as well – I’ve never seen them live.

Anyhow, this post is about an opportunity for a new friend in my life who goes by the name of Hannah.  Sometimes she goes by “your Grace” but that goes for another story in another life when we are both cats (or Jack Russell terriers).  Vanilla Sky.

Hannah has the opportunity to continue her undergrad and get a degree in her select program.  She’s incredibly bright and a hard-worker at that (also she has an incredibly wicked set of eyes – thanks to Hannah’s mom and dad).  The problem lies in room & board.  It’s not cheap anywhere!  And in order to support yourself, you would need to get a job.  This job would have to pay for a) rent, b) food, c) gas, d) social expenses, and e) etc.  Rent itself would cost between $ 300 and $ 600 a month.  On top of this job, she would be taking a full course load of level 400 courses for her senior / final year at Geneseo.  And depending on where she would be living, there would most likely be never ending distractions / drama.

What would you think if I sang out of tune,
Would you stand up and walk out on me.
Lend me your ears and I’ll sing you a song,
And I’ll try not to sing out of key.

I have a big heart and perhaps I get this from my father – a soft spot in my heart to help those in need particularly those who deserve such chances in life.  Rather than see her struggle while trying to juggle a full course load and an almost full-time night job, I have proposed a plan:

I have a spare bedroom in my house.  The house itself is roughly 2100 sq ft, 1.5 bath, with attached garage and a double wide concrete driveway (yes, I know, bad choice for living where I do – a learning experience to say the least).  I live in Henrietta, NY, which is about a 30 min commute to SUNY Geneseo.  The room is n feet wide by m feet in length and located on the bottom floor of my raised ranch.  I have not measured it but Hannah has seen it and it also has a walk-in closet to minimize the expense of purchasing a dresser.  There is already a bed inside as well, a queen-size.  I have a desk she can use if needed.  She can park on the driveway as well instead of the endless search (& switching sides of the street each day) for on-street parking.  I have a snowplowing guy who takes care of the driveway each winter too.

Here are some pictures of the exterior:
house-front-1house-back-2  house-back-1

Rent would be $ 5200 per year which translates to $ 100.00 per week.  This expense can be a wash as long as she agrees to certain household chores to be completed weekly.  These chores include dusting, polishing, mopping, cleaning the kitchen / bathroom / house, taking out the garbage, shoveling the walkway leading to the front door in the winter, tidying up the landscape, vacuuming, help with organizing, etc.  Not everything would have to be done each week but listed are primarily examples.  She would simply need to set aside a few hours per week to accomplish such.  Laundry would be separate and not considered a household chore.  Dishes would be listed under the same since that is more of a personal responsibility.  Hannah can attest to how clean my place is right now.  And plus I have a couple of exercise machines at home which would eliminate having to set aside time to go to a gym.  I have a lot of paperwork that needs to be organized but that would have to be done by me alone.  I own a couple of businesses so that kind of gets out of control pretty quickly.  And what’s with all that junk mail (both in postal and e-mail)?!?

Who am I?  I am Bridget’s friend’s friend who had taken the time one day to set us up where she had said that we would be perfect for each other.  I was a bit hesitant when she told me Hannah’s age but something told me that I should maybe give it a try.  I normally do not date anyone more than 10 years difference of my age and that is a stretch in itself.  My last girlfriend was 1 year older than I.  I am 37 years old by the way, 38 at the end of this month.  We had gone on a few dates and I was enamored by her kindness and compassion and that we have many things in common as well.  She is also my main inspiration to get back into healthy shape.  I tried to show her what I could offer her if we decided to pursue a relationship.  I never asked for anything in return however and she can attest to that.  I’m not that kind of person.  I am a man but I have manners and the utmost respect for women in general.  To make this story short, Hannah admitted to me that she was not attracted to me and a romantic relationship would not be in the cards.  I respect that and I’m 100% on board for having a purely platonic relationship.  She had also said that it may be God’s plan that we are in each others lives however the truth to that is unknown.  I side 50/50.

Anyhow, that is my proposal – I would like to see her succeed and lightening up the burden may help.  She would still need to get a part-time job for essentials but at least the most expensive expense would be taken care of.  If you have any questions, feel free to call me.  Hannah has my number.  I won’t be available on Saturday until 7:00 PM or Sunday until 5:00 PM.  If I am missing anything, please let Hannah know and I will make an addendum to this post.

Alive

I’m worried about my housemate. She seems so withdrawn and depressed lately but apparently only when I try to spark a conversation with her. Ever since I wrote that last post suggesting that she was responsible and that I loved her dog, her personality seems to have just changed (around me) for some reason. When my buddy Joe was here hanging out she was really chipper and cracking jokes and stuff but no longer with me. Maybe I send out the wrong vibes. It’s not my intention though and only want to keep it at a friend level. No idea and she won’t offer an explanation and I prefer to have things explained if I don’t understand. Me sad. *pout*

There could be an explanation however…

A long long time ago in a far off galaxy…

No really, many years ago most of my friends were female. This is before I became a walking man-whore in my mid-20s (a phase long-since gone) though since I gained so much weight in the meantime you never would have guessed. With some of them we got really close but never stepping over the boundary of kissing or skin-on-skin contact. We’d cuddle on the couch or in bed if we were down, and just overall be there for each other without getting sexual or mushy. It must have been a teenager thing. I’ve known my housemate for many years. In fact, we met off MySpace. She went through a traumatic experience (in my opinion) at her old household and suddenly moved into mine. We were sitting on the couch one day away from each other and I mentioned that if she ever needed anyone to talk to or if she needed consoling through cuddling, she could request it. I wasn’t intending anything reboundy or sexual in nature. Just two friends who could use self-therapy. I’d love to know her honest opinion about that rather than just a shrug and being polite. On second thought, the request may have come off as a little creepy and I think I may had just become “that guy”. Ugh.

I need to find someone who can help me be more articulate when conversing. Somehow i lost my charm. I’m like an exact copy of my “Uncle Narayan” who is my dad’s younger brother. We both take so long to tell a story. What normally would take the average person 5 minutes, takes us 5 hours. I also need to learn how to continue a conversation. No one will volunteer though.

Anyway, we got pumpkins from Powers’ Farm Market! Now the issue is when I’ll (we’ll) be able to carve / paint them. I haven’t carved one in years and when I did, it didn’t remotely resemble anything humanistic. My art form is lacking. I should probably just punch a hole through it and say, “walla!” I’ve never been much of a decorator unless it’s work-related. I’d like to do more of it around the house, both interior and exterior, but that comes down to time and money. I no longer want to be that guy living only on my monthly pay.

I was asked the other day how I wasn’t able to save much and invest in things when my friend could and they don’t make as much as I do. My response was that 1) they live in a house worth about 40 grand which is all paid off; 2) their taxes on the property are minimal; 3) combined with the property taxes on both properties, I have a double mortgage on my house and a mortgage on my limo property which are bleeding me dry (along with all the utility bills and stuff.) The secondary mortgage on the house was to help pay for the new construction on the limo garage (putting in six bays where each had its own garage, each bay needed its own draining system connected to a main city sewer pipeline, removal of asphalt lot to place curbs/lawn/bushes/sidewalks, outside / interior lights, plumbing, etc.). Before the construction it was just an empty warehouse structure with one garage. The problem is that even though I put in at least 6 figures reconstructing the place, the assessed value hardly budged.

Through the screen

Last night I played indoor volleyball for the first time in probably 20 years.  I used to have the best serve and I’m slowly getting it back.  I like to put a spin on things, be it volleyball, tennis, racquetball, life, etc.  There’s a cute girl on the team and while we were sitting out I struck up a conversation.  Short-lived:

“How long has it been since you last played?” I asked.
“Back in high school,” she replied.
“When was that,” I asked.
“Last year.”

Oh snap!

Cute but probably 18 years younger than me – meaning that when I graduated high school, she wasn’t even born yet. I guess it would be legal if you’re into that sort of thing. I don’t think I could ever date anyone who is under 21, let alone anyone who hasn’t finished their studies yet and is under the age of 27. I’d like to ideally find someone in my age group, younger, but 10 years difference is the limit (and that’s a stretch).

I’m a member at match.com and a non-subscriber over at Shaadi. I’m talking to this one woman (and a few others as well) who is 34, divorced, single mom of one though I think she has joint custody. It takes her so long to write back for some reason and she always blames it on her daughter. I’ve dated a few single mom’s in my past and I know that they get much more free time (and make more free time for themselves). I’m not going to judge but the penpal-ish style of getting to know each other is growing old. I don’t like to write e-mails. Once the membership expires, I’m going to say a big F.U. to online dating. It’s pretty much a meat market anyhow without the alcohol.

My profile (on match):

To clear up some of the details:
Want kids: Yes, but they don’t necessarily have to be my own;
Nationality: Born in the USA, therefore, USA;
Ethnicity: 100% Eastern Indian;
Drink: Rarely, I’m usually the DD.

On the whole, I’m an optimistic person and enjoy most everything I do. I have a sarcastic sense of humor and have a tendency to laugh out loud at my own jokes. My friends are often amused by my attempts at humor given my inherent goofiness. All joking aside, friends would describe me as a straight-forward and considerate person.

I own multiple businesses and properties which keep me pretty busy so I try to take full advantage of any free time that I do have. If there’s something fun happening – I want to be there. That being said, I do enjoy having a quiet night in as well. My family and friends are my pillars and I do my best to see them often. I’m on a mission to improve my life in almost every way, including health, exercise, and socially. You can find me at the gym nearly 4 times a week (everyone exaggerates on these things), I play kickball on two teams this season, and I’ve signed up for a volleyball league as well. I am over the loud annoying bar scene full of meat market clones and prefer a more pleasant setting such as a nice coffee on my deck, dinner, movies, or a live performance.

In my companion, I’m looking for someone with a good sense of humor, has family values (i.e. likes spending time with family and values the commitment it takes), is ambitious, confident, health-conscious, intellectually curious, and thoughtful. She eats well and exercises regularly. She has lived and learned and has things sorted pretty well by now. I’ll avoid any more generic adjectives for the time being and just start with those 🙂 . If that’s you, I’d love to hear from you.

On another note, I signed some paperwork to purchase the funeral home property the other day. I’m buying it for the assessed value of $ 400,000 on a 15 year loan. The interest rate is up in the air. 15 is the magic number. I have a fifteen year loan on my limo warehouse garage and on my house. In less than 7 years, I’ll have full ownership of both. I technically have full ownership of the limo garage already since the loan I took to purchase it was from Metropolitan (and I am an owner of Metropolitan). My monthly mortgage payments will be around $ 5,500. My sources of income will be my salary, tips, and rental income. The rental income, if all goes well and my housemate sticks around, will be around $ 6,400 monthly. Property taxes, however, will be around $ 30,000 annually for all three properties. I’ll make it work.

Maybe after saving some money, I’ll buy up some residential city property and either help those out in dire straights or rent to family-rich college students.

Stay

I’m updating from an iPad so we shall see how this turns out – one-handed-ness typing.

Much has changed and for the better. I removed Bex from my life. I had to. She started to become someone that I despised where she would say something and do the other or she would always tend to accuse me of having some other motive for sticking around.

Round and around and around and around we go.

Just friends. I was good with that – in fact, we had shared so much with each other I thought we could grow to be the best of friends without the romance or sex. But I felt she was pushing me away. I think she was scared of me – not scared as in frightful, but scared as in I know all her buttons and pleasure points when we did end up sleeping together. All in all, her lifestyle and personality changed much to the worst in my opinion which basically tuned me away.

I’m in a better place now.

I have the most adorable ‘nephew’ – my best friend’s kid. My first of many hopeful babysitting evenings is on 10/10/13. So psyched.
I have a more active lifestyle – volleyball league on Monday evenings, Aquafit on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday mornings, kickball on Tuesdays and Thursdays, and walking my roomie’s dog and bending over to pick up her poop.
I have someone in my life (platonic) who inspires me just enough to become a better person though she will probably never know it. I think we complement each other as friends but whatever. There are no cats in any bags.
I love my roommate’s dog.
I’m glad that I finally have a responsible roommate housemate. (She’s a good cook too!)
I’m in the process of purchasing my office building.
I’m getting a ton of business this fall.

I’m in an overall good spot right now. Only one thing can top it all off… They say when you stop looking, that person will find you. I stopped. Please kindly speak up whoever you are. Your turn to test the waters.

The long and winding road

Rhetorical True or False: Exes – if you can’t be lovers, then you can’t be friends who invite each other to hang out and have discussions about our lives like normal friends do. Do you think the friendship would be one-sided? Do you think the person who did the breaking up would be more open about their life?

I’m trying to have a normal friendship with Becky O. but I’m unsure if she wants that. I feel like I’m the only one making the effort to make first contact. I thought we could have something solid, maybe I’m wrong. “But we broke up” seems to be the most used phrase by her even though I’m merely trying to maintain a friendship. I see no reason those words should ever be uttered in the case of a lasting friendship. Maybe it’s just me. A lot of things are.

I had a fun time hanging out with her and the kids on Wednesday night. I contacted her initially to return her daughter’s booster seat though she asked if I could buy dinner. I purchased a family dinner from Popeyes and Kate just ate some corn on the cob. Evan and I were making poop jokes at the dinner table. Afterwards we were playing swords with the pointing poker stabber jabber thingies and Kate whacked my finger by mistake. Ouch. Sat on the couch and Bex plopped right next to me with wine in hand. I was poking her with the tool and she’d shoo it away after awhile. She was smiling so I didn’t think she was offended by my gestures. Maybe it was just the wine. (I wasn’t drinking any alcohol.). No lovey dovey stuff, just playing around.

After I left and returned home, we were having fun discussions online about astrological findings through astro.com.

Thoughts that circulate through my head.

Every step that I take is another mistake to you

I fubared yesterday and mistakingly let out some descriptive details of my life to the public eye.  The post was meant to be a draft though I published it by mistake.  My apologies to any of my audience whom I may have scarred for life.

When it came to early academics – getting ready for college – I didn’t take control of my own life.  My brother did that all for me.  I was too busy dilly dallying with friends and getting in trouble to really worry about college.  He was adamant about the junior year counting so much for college so we basically overloaded my schedule with courses and such.  I think that year I took a couple of APs (but never finished them) and some other elective classes and doubled up on science courses.  I completely bombed my SATs in my opinion – I scored like a 650 on my math and probably just received points on the reading test for signing my name.  Staying back in 5th grade probably would have come in handy here.  I think my overall score was around 1100 (out of 1600).

I set myself up so that my senior year, particularly the second semester, would be free period after free period.  I don’t think I saw my parents for at least a couple of months at that time – I’d stay the night at D’s or B’s or P’s, wake up and drink a beer or choke a troll, go home after both my parents had left for work, shower, then head to public speaking class (which I loved) and I think some other class, then go home and leave before my parents came home from work.  P-A-R-T-why?  ‘Cause I gotta!  I ended up graduating with a 3.0 average somehow.  In Freshmen and Sophomore years, my grades were high As and high Bs.  I didn’t really have any friends that I hung out with on a regular basis during this time aside from peeps in my neighborhood, so I had all the time in the world to actually learn something.  In Junior and Senior years, my grades plopped to low Bs to Cs though I did have the occasional A from easy elective classes.  Public speaking – loved the improv – think of me doing the Eric Gordon Shakespeare play speech.  Fun times.

My brother was at Antioch College at that time but he ended up getting me applications from Earlham, Grinnell, Beloit, Guilford, and Wooster Colleges.  He was dead set on small liberal arts colleges because of the smaller campus (so I didn’t have to walk as much) and the smaller class sizes (could actually set up times to see a teacher and not just a TA).  Of course, I visited all these campuses before applying and I absolutely fell in love with Grinnell which happened to be the only school that I didn’t get into.  Story of my life.  Guilford was a fun school as well.  It’s in North Carolina, it’s warm, it’s small, and furthermore, it was the farthest from immediate family.  My written essay for my Guilford College application was about my summer of 1994 pilgrimage experience to Singapore, India (from South to Himalayas), and Nepal.  The Dean was a hippie so I’m betting that’s what got me in.

At Guilford, I took some pretty tough classes.  I wasn’t prepared for all the writing we had to do in these classes.  I even took this class called Accelerated Calculus.  We had to write papers for this class.  WTF?  How the hell do I write a paper explaining the derivative of this specific function?  I think that’s the only class that got me the .54 GPA standing.  Academically dismissed.  See ya!

From ’95 – ’99, I went to MCC off and on and changed from program to program – I can’t remember the exact order but I believe I went from Biochemistry to Accounting to Engineering to etc.  I went to see a guidance counselor to sign up for classes for the 2nd semester in ’99 and he said that rather than choose a program,  I would only have to take 2 more classes to get a liberal arts associates degree.  Sign me up!  I ended up doing a 2+2 program with Nazareth College.  I should have gone to RIT, it would have been a much better choice from an academic standpoint for what I could have done.  I picked Naz for all the wrong reasons.  Back then the ratio of girls to guys was 5 to 1.  I had fun though it didn’t get me anywhere.

All my talk of taking action

I’ve already had inquiries regarding the severity of my situation. It’s more of an internal battle I guess you could say. The issue is non-life-threatening though is still medical in nature. I’ve been told that I shouldn’t be as distraught as I am about this – writing a blog about it, but at least I’m not out getting hammered each night (or any night for that matter) or out partying with other paraphernalia. I think it’s important to track my feelings on this blog. Yes, the medical issue can be taken as very personal but I don’t have anything to hide. OK that is not entirely true; we all have skeletons that we’ve never discussed with anyone – mine have occurred usually while in a drunken or drug induced stupor.  I apologize to anyone who I may have harmed in periods of weakness and stupidity.

I went to my Aquafit class today at LA Fitness.  It’s been awhile since I’ve been (I even lost my keycard – it’s MIA in my clean house).  Clean?  Yea right!  I’d like to make a trip there at least 3 times a week for the water class, however work definitely gets in the way.  I’m also going to do my best and join some other aerobic classes as well (ie boot camp conditioning, yoga, etc.)  Here’s hoping that I actually stick to something.  I may as well take my $ 2,000 bike out for a spin at some point as well.  It’d be better if I had someone to ride with.  I definitely want to get some tennis action in this summer.  (reminder:  call Amy).  I probably won’t be entertaining anyone any time soon so I may just throw a section of my sofa set in the dining room and start either Power 90, or Insanity, or P90X, or P90X2.  (or re-watch the entire Game of Thrones series)

High school was definitely an eye opener for me.  In my sophomore year, I took a trip to Spain with fellow classmates and that is where my whole world changed.  I was introduced to Sangria and Ducados.  Thus began my 10 years’ smoking habit.  Quitting that in 2002 was one of the best decisions I’ve ever made.  After returning to the US, others probably took notice of the changes that I was going through – not for the better I might add.  I experimented with a lot of drugs from alcohol to marijuana to LSD to Shrooms to heroin to etc.  I only snorted, I never injected anything though.  I remember one day coming from some guy’s place off Monroe Ave completely ‘horsed’ out of my mind and mistook the accelerator for the brake and crashed my dad’s car.  A car had rammed right into my dad’s front wheel immobilizing it.  Luckily it was freezing that day.  The cops had come and I pretty much almost shit my pants having to talk to that guy PLUS I didn’t have my night license yet.  Got a ticket for that.  I can’t believe he didn’t notice that my friends and I were high as balls.  I have a lot of stories – some good, some bad, some funny, some sad, some I remember, some I can’t recollect.  Byron, Patrick, and myself.  Those were the days though I wouldn’t go back if my life counted on it UNLESS I were to go back with everything that I know now.

I had constant battles that I had lost with drugs and alcohol for many years.  I eventually overcame it but at what cost?  My father even threw out my high school yearbook from my graduating year because it contained so much negativity.

I wish that I could find my ‘Who Am I?’ paper that was written in 8th grade.

My dream before all this was to go to medical school and become either a cardiologist or a heart surgeon.  Most projects that I did in elementary school and junior high surrounded the basic anatomy and function of the human heart.  That was my dream.  That was what I was going to pursue.  My choices prevented that dream to come true though I could technically start over since this country is the land of second, third, fourth, nth chances but I don’t do very well in an academic setting and I would absolutely die in college if I had to go for another 7+ years.

My actual college career was for all the wrong reasons.  I went to Guilford College in Greensboro, NC, after graduating high school.  I remember not wanting to go directly into college but I was kind of forced to by my father.  That lasted one semester.  Know anyone else who had the high honor of leaving college with a .54 GPA?  It was quite an accomplishment.  Not.  Raves.  Parties.  Open bar till 8 AM because the guy we were partying with owned the bar.  Chapel Hill frat parties.   I had a long distance relationship with my then girlfriend when I first started at Guilford but upon my first return, I made sure that I broke up with her because I didn’t want to be the one who cheated.  It would have happened at some point.  There was one day that I recall where I woke up in some married woman’s bed, whose husband was out of town, completely naked after a rave on the other side of the freakin’ city.  Don’t ask me how I got there.  Don’t ask me what we did.  Don’t ask me what I found in my pockets on the way back.  However so, I got a lot of high fives that day in Milner Hall from my friends.  I was a mess though I can’t help but smile as I recall the best of times with my ol’ college buds way back when.  We’ve lost touch unfortunately.

Upon returning, I went from job to job (temp contract jobs), and program to program at MCC.  I was very indecisive about what I wanted to be and what I wanted to learn though most of the subjects that I found myself taking revolved somehow around mathematics (which I eventually majored in at Nazareth).

I eventually hit rock bottom in 1997. Another time, another tale.

For years and years they’ve played

Keeping in mind this blog is just to remind myself of some negativity energy that has been surrounding me these past few years and now, I am sincerely hoping that depending on the audience, what I write does not affect my present and future friendships. I have a lot of positive energy to offer as well.  I was told that keeping a blog would be somewhat therapeutic anyhow or it may dig me deeper into a hole.

Triple whammy. I don’t think I’m ready to acknowledge this 4-part devastation as a fact just yet however after much research, it may be the cause of my lethargy and downward spiral of my inner self.  I asked one of my best friend’s how he would react if he were told this type of news. He said that he probably wouldn’t react too well. It probably hasn’t hit me with full force yet.  My dreaded appointment comes on August 7th, 2013.

I’ve told six people so far.  My sister-in-law is visiting for the week and I even told her.  She was surprised at how I can talk about my health issues so openly.  My brother doesn’t even know.  I made her promise that I will be the one who tells him.  August 7th.  I have been a very private person thus far, as not many people truly know the real me.  It seems to be a learning ordeal to me as well.

Work and surrounding myself with either family or friends definitely takes my mind off it.  My weeknights mostly look like this:

Ana on my lap

Yes.  She rests and sleeps on my arm as I type.

On another note, I’m truly happy for AB.  Their expected due date is tomorrow and I’m hoping they stick around so I can have an opportunity to be a positive role model for the kid.  I’m sure the anticipation is killing them.  I know for a fact that it is killing A and probably B too.

Like moving pictures in my head

Broken.  I’ve been feeling broken for awhile now.  I manage to pull myself back together when I am around people or at work, but when I’m home alone with Ana, I become lethargic.  After propping myself onto my couch, I’ll only get up to either get something to eat / drink or use the bathroom.  Couch activities include working on my laptop, watching Netflix via PS3, or reading books on my iPad.  Reading has become less and less lately.  I have about 20 books on my iPad that I want to get through this summer but I have a feeling that I won’t even get through one.  (I should learn when to use ‘but’ and when to use ‘though’ – reminder to self.)

Why do I feel broken?

My life was going perfect and everything was in place until that dreaded day in 1976.  August 30th, to be exact.  Out comes this baby boy, very cute I might add, but with a congenital deformity.   Birth defect in aisle one.   It’s led me to a life feeling self-conscious and withdrawn.  Even if it’s 100 degrees outside, others will see me wearing a pair of pants most likely.  I wish my parents had involved me early on in sports or other exercises while still a small child.  I’ve heard of success stories involving Kristi Yamaguchi or Charles Woodson, etc., who have had club foot (or feet) and turned out just fine.  Or maybe my parents did and I gave up too easily.  That’s been known to happen throughout my whole life. I always need that extra push to follow through on things.  If I give up and if others give up on me, then I will fail.  That’s how I’m wired unfortunately.

The icing on the cake was in elementary school which opened the avenue to ridicule and children’s ignorance and getting picked last in gym class.  (Even now, I think people would still pick me last in any active sport [*cough* kickball *cough*] – I don’t blame them, I suck while on the field.  At least I have the magic foot.)  It’s not something that I could change so I think that’s why I took it so hard those years.  I had multiple surgeries and was in corrective braces and casts for the first three years of my life so I was still in the process of perfecting my walk.  I guess I waddled like a duck or penguin hence the name-calling of related words.  It’s too damn hot for a penguin to be just walkin’ around here.  I still walk with a limp.  I can rectify it if I do what Dudley Moore did – he wore one shoe with a slightly bigger sole to compensate while walking.  Wikipedia.  If it hadn’t been for my parent’s support, I don’t know where I’d be today.

Whatever happened to Jaime Killian?

4th grade.  Double whammy.  I should have said ‘yes’ but I didn’t want to feel like more of an outcast.  My nurse (Mrs. Fox – awesome lady) suggested that I wear hearing aides.  I was already enduring so much pain from the name-calling, why would I want to put myself through even more hardship?  Back then they didn’t have the CIC (completely-in-canal) type hearing aides that I wear now, so they were big and bulky like and very visible on the outside of the ear.  I could only imagine what type of names I would have been called.  I said ‘no’ and my parents supported my decision.

5th grade.  I should have said ‘yes’.  Mrs. Schacht suggested that I stay back one grade to better my reading comprehension skills.  Thinking back, I seriously could have used this.  I know plenty of people who had ‘stayed back’ a grade and have turned out just fine.  Perhaps it was pride.   I’m Indian.  My family consists of doctors, engineers, CEOs, etc, and everyone is very intelligent – my brother is an exception [just kidding].  How could I be my father’s son if I were to stay back a grade?  How ashamed would my father feel if I had said ‘ok, let’s do this.’  I can’t imagine what kind of hurt that would have caused him at that time.  Perhaps it was out of fright.  I couldn’t stay back now.  Not after all this.  I want to get out of this school as fast as I can.

What helped my self-esteem in both 5th and 6th grade was that I won the spelling bee in both grades.  Now only if I could remember how to do the Drew Blanton dubbed ‘Ajay Shuffle’.  Speaking of Drew, I believe he is the only one who stuck to pronouncing my name almost correctly.  Everyone else just went to americanized ‘A.J.’ so it stuck and I started to introduce myself in that same fashion since.  Phonetically, this is how you pronounce my real name:  ə dʒeɪ (www.forvo.com).  Huh?

(to be cont’d)