“Oh Death, where is thy sting?”

Needles make me very queasy. Just looking at them makes me shudder, and I cannot watch other people getting shots because it makes me nauseous. All I can think about is the sharp metal sliding between my cells and…ugh…I’m breaking into a sweat just talking about it. Anyway, I would heap limitless, fulsome praise on my dentist if it weren’t for the fact that he only uses local anæsthetics (which can only be applied with needles). The ladies found it rather amusing that a 6’4″ 275 lbs. guy initially wanted a bucket nearby, but they humoured me all the same. It was painful no matter how I approached it, but they were kind enough to tell me before they brought the needle in view so I could close my eyes. Nonetheless, I perservere and withstand the discomfort because I know it is necessary. It also serves as a reminder to take care of myself; any time I’m feeling lazy all I do is recall those needles and it’s right back onto the straight and narrow once more.

Well, one of my molars was just not sturdy enough to maintain itself so a crown was in order (or as my friends would say in snarky tones, “It’s a tiara, not a crown!”). The procedure is relatively straightforward: The dentist works in stages over a length of time to replace the existing tooth using a composite material. Simple, yes?

Not in my case.

My dentist had to send off an impression of the tooth so it could be made; meanwhile, a temporary one was put into place to halt further damage. It sounded fairly innocuous until it came time to grind down the remains of the molar with a drill so they have a surface to adhere the temporary one. Well, in order to do that they need to numb it down (for obvious reasons), and that’s when the trouble started.

One shot of local anæsthesia is usually enough to make my cheek and jaw go down for the count, so my dentist injected the first round and worked on another patient while waiting for the stuff to do its work. Well, it didn’t. I apologised lightheartedly when he returned and informed him it appeared to be a two round kind of day, so he did more injections and went off to take care of yet another patient in the interim. It was still a no-go.

By this point we were completely mystified as to why it wasn’t working, and it wasn’t until the FIFTH ROUND OF SHOTS and two hours later that my jaw was sufficiently numb to do anything (which was a good thing because he said we’d have to reschedule if it didn’t work!). So, after profusely apologising to the dentist for simultaneously taking up his time and anæsthesia stores as well as to the poor assistant who was waiting patiently and listening to me ramble, he started his work.

There are a lot of things that need to be done to prepare the tooth for a crown, and some of it involves the foulest tasting stuff you can imagine (I have a sneaking suspicion it is intended as a deterrent to encourage the daily brushing of one’s teeth). My tongue was regrettably not insensitive, so I was able to taste the chaotic (yet somewhat lively) spectrum of adhesives, solvents and chemicals used in the procedure. I idly wondered at one point if this sort of thing was employed on a circle of Hell, because the lake of ice would have been child’s play compared to it. For humorous effect I would briefly entertain the dentist and his assistant on what the chemicals reminded me of (we have that sort of a professional relationship), but it was not a pleasant experience overall.

Nonetheless, my nerves began to awaken and feeling returned shortly after the procedure was completed (which was only 45 minutes or so!) and that’s when the second half of my torture began. Doctors do not employ much finesse when operating on numbed parts of the body because they must work quickly, so my gums started hurting at the same time the numerous injection sites made themselves known. At the risk of sounding melodramatic, it was at that moment that I desired to end my life right then and there, but Death would not be so obliging.

I couldn’t eat anything (I had so much anæsthesia in my body that it was making me sick) and could barely talk. Aspirin did nothing and sleep was impossible, so I did the best thing I could at the time: distracted myself by running errands!

In any event, the first half of my self-inflicted torture is now over and I await the second half with the same keen expectation of a death row inmate. I suspect the second situation will be a carbon copy of the first, so I fervently hope for either a quick procedure or Death to finally do his job; although, knowing my luck he’d have to give me a shot first.

Trivial Words: A Sweet Date!

“In the Spring a young man’s fancy lightly turns to thoughts of love.” – Alfred, Lord Tennyson

I really didn’t have anything noteworthy to write in my Trivial Words post, but I wanted to do my best to forget the fact that a clown will be sworn into office tomorrow, so I asked my roommate and his wife for two random words. The two words were “calendar” and “chocolate”, both of which dovetail quite nicely for this post.

Valentine’s Day is just around the corner (or as I call it, “Singles Recognition Day”) and I am certain many of you knew this because the stores are already bursting with Valentine’s day stuff in an orgiastic display of commercialism at its finest. Chocolate (like many foods) is inextricably linked with a holiday, and nowhere is this more obvious than February 14th. So, without further ado, let us go down the delectable path of discovery!

Sweets for the sweet!

Cacao was first cultivated in the Mesoamerica region approximately three millenia ago, and the majority of the native people used it as a beverage (the seeds were also used for currency due to the importance it held in the culture). Unfortunately, the seeds (from which the beverage was made) are extremely bitter due to natural alkaloids and must go through a lengthy process just to be drinkable; in fact, the Nahuatl word for it was xocolatl, or “bitter water”. Not much is known about the beverage except that it was used in Aztec and Incan religious ceremonies as well as consumption by the public. Appropriately enough, the scientific name for cacao is Theobroma, which means “food of the deities”!

The origin of the name “chocolate” came from the Spanish language, but no one is sure how it was introduced. It was once thought that xocolatl eventually became chocolatl through the Spanish language, but the latter word appears nowhere in colonial era documents from Spain and is thus not considered correct. Several other possible origin words have been brought forth, but none seem to exactly fit.

The Spaniards got a hold of it when they arrived and subsequently colonised the area, but they were not crazy about it due to the bitterness. It is thought that the Spanish conquistador Hernán Cortés was the first European to discover this strange beverage because the earliest known reference to cacao came from the diary of one of his travelling companions. The Spaniards began importing cacao as a cash crop but the country was also not exactly thrilled because of the disagreeable taste; to combat this, honey, sugar, or vanilla were added to make it more palatable. Of course Spain could only keep it a secret for so long, and in short order the social elite of Europe were tasting their own chocolate drinks. Chocolate became so popular that it was a subject of serious religious contemplation; indeed, a bishop of Rome declared in 1662 that drinking chocolate would not break a religious fast.

The Industrial Revolution made it easier to produce the chocolate we know today and the growing scientific knowledge of the world eliminated the bitterness, improved the texture, and created different varieties. Daniel Peter invented milk chocolate in 1875 by taking a powdered milk formula developed by Henri Nestlé and mixing it with chocolate liquor (chocolate and liquor? Sign me up!), while Rudolphe Lindt invented the “conching” machine in 1879 to further refine the taste and texture. Quite a few confection companies got their start in the late 1800s, including Cadbury, Lindt, Nestlé, Rowntree’s of York, and Hershey because of these innovations, and we are forevermore grateful for that wonderful fact.

A date for a date!

The Gregorian calendar is used throughout most of the world so everyone knows what everyone else is talking about when they say they need something by Tuesday. It is the bedrock upon which religion, industry, and society (and more!) are founded so we can observe rites on the correct days, make sure our employees work when they are supposed to, and to mark the holidays (especially Valentine’s Day!).

Calendae (or kalendae) was the first day of the month on the Roman calendar, and that word was derived from the verb calare, meaning “to call out” (this was a reference to the new moon “calling out” the beginning of the Roman month, which became known as the calend). The word was eventually used to describe a book called a calendarium (or kalendarium) used to record account payments and debt collections made on the calends of each month. The Latin word became calendier in Old French, only to settle as “calender” in the Middle Ages, and remained that way until it was rewritten as “calendar” (which is a fairly recent change).

The first calendars were pretty simple; the sun and moon were pretty much the only way to track time, so they became the solar and lunar calendars, respectively. The ancient Sumerians were the first to have a neatly organised calendar; it even included a leap year and a leap day to maintain cohesion through the year (because the Sun and Moon are not very punctual). Their calendar was borrowed by several cultures, whereupon they developed a system best suited for them (and in some cases improved it). Some religions still use these calendars to this day.

The two major changes to a time-keeping system were implemented by Julius Caesar and Pope Gregory XIII. Julius Caesar simply reformed the existing Roman calendar and it became known as the Julian calendar (used by the Eastern Orthodox Church). That was the timekeeping system for the world until the Roman Catholic Church realised a very serious problem.

The vernal equinox and Easter were historically celebrated on the same day by the Roman Catholic church (the latter was performed at the same time as the former to connect heathen and Catholic religious holidays and supplant the heathen version in the process). Unfortunately, the Julian calendar did not make allowances for the day length during equinoxes and thus the numerical date would eventually be out of sync, so Pope Gregory XIII commissioned a new calendar system to keep Easter on the same day each year. After a lengthy process (and lots of math), the Gregorian calendar was introduced in 1582 and it has become the de facto system for the majority of the world. All for a holiday involving bunnies and chocolate.

And there you have it.

Sources: Wikipedia, The Sweet History of Chocolate, Merriam-Webster Dictionary.

Every person is an (electronic) island

(Apologies to John Donne)

I sound like my dad more and more these days. I find myself saying “When I was your age…” and “I remember when…” with greater frequency, and it is somewhat startling (and depressing). Unfortunately, I am sometimes forced to do so, and this post is one of them.

Me and my sisters were pretty amazed by the rotary phone when my parents finally got one. We were similarly amazed with the improvement of the telephone in the form of the touch-tone. My parents got us an Atari 2600 (my dad most certainly worked himself to death to afford it) and I played it incessantly. Much later he got me a Commodore 64 when I was a teen in high school, and I was constantly amazed because it was The Future in my room. I saw one of the first mobile phones and mobile cameras. I witnessed the internet come into being and reach the masses. Technology has been proceeding at a breakneck pace and I am still amazed. I occasionally look at my iPhone with something akin to awe, remembering when a 16 color computer that required 5.25″ floppy disks and had no internal memory capacity was considered cutting edge a mere 25 years ago (on the plus side, video games were criminally cheap back then!).

And yet, it seems like we lost something along the way. I grew up talking to people face to face; my parents insisted upon and maintained the idea that dinner was the time for the family to sit down and talk to each other without distractions (to this day it still feels a little weird eating alone because I’m not speaking to someone).

Now I see people on their phones and iPads and laptops, sitting in their chairs while the world marches without pause. They may occasionally look up when they see movement out of the corner of their eye, but many just ignore everything around them. The most heartbreaking thing I see these days is a family sitting at a restaurant and the kids are playing on a phone (most likely their own!).

It feels strange to talk to someone I have never met. I feel disconnected, like I’m missing something important, something elemental. I desperately want to know what they sound like, or look like, or what their mannerisms are. I learn so much when I watch and listen to someone, but talking over the cold, neutral electronic highway prevents me from doing that. I flail helplessly through text as I try to discern the person behind the email/instant message/post, unable to know if I have given cause for offense, or if they really did think my joke was funny, or if they’re losing interest in what I’m talking about. There is nothing to respond to, and that is a cornerstone of productive interaction with others. What they say isn’t nearly as interesting as what they don’t say.

(And yes, I am bothered by the fact that I can’t see the lovely, wonderful people I have conversed with here. It is quite maddening at times, really.)

And yet, this generation seems quite capable of chatting away with people across the world and not be bothered by these points in the slightest. They will most likely never know anything about the other person except what they are told, and that’s okay.

To be sure, I am incredibly grateful that the internet has made life infinitely easier (does anyone remember the maddening torture called a library card catalogue?) and brought most of us closer in a global sense. It is and will continue to be one of the great inventions of humanity. I just wish we had retained some of the habits from the era of the rotary phone.

Maybe I’m just getting old, a fossil stuck in today’s world with yesterday’s mindset. Maybe I’m hesitant to let go of what I perceive to be warm, pleasant memories. Maybe I’m making a mountain out of a molehill and seeing only the few that think that way.

Eh…I think I’ll hang onto my quaint idiosyncracies for a little while longer.

Just call me Epimetheus

I was about to begin working on one of my stories when I suddenly realised I deleted the post that explained the name of the blog. While some of you may have gleaned it from the context, some of you may not, so I will explain it just in case.

I discovered that I needed medication when I was approximately 25 years old. I was preparing to commit suicide one night when I suddenly realised I was going crazy and would unquestionably kill myself if I didn’t do something about it. I called my dad during this brief moment of lucidity and he calmed me down (one of many reasons why I love my father). I went to stay with them that weekend and we had a lot of productive discussions. My stepmom is a nurse and she helped me figure out a course of action, and shortly thereafter I started taking medication.

The change was astounding. I suddenly realised there was a different way of seeing life; no longer did it seem dismal, grey, and terrible. I could laugh and be happy, which were two things that eluded me from around age 10. I literally saw happiness as a novelty, something that was largely foreign to me. Most people are generally happy and go through life seeing the world in that manner. Obviously they have off days but they don’t last very long; in my case, every day was an off day and didn’t let up except during the occasional manic episode. The emotion of happiness that most people feel as a matter of course was a rare thing to me up to that point, and truly experiencing it for the first time was like getting a new thing you’ve never had: You feel giddy, thrilled, eager to explore and understand the thing. Happiness was a novelty to me, and I was ecstatic.

There were ups and downs much later on (much of which I’ve touched on in earlier posts), but for the most part I’ve been okay. However, I recently discovered an unexpected aspect of my situation.

I recently started some medication that gave me a manic feeling (because I was unused to it) and I have to admit that I loved every minute of it. After years of being depressed or treading emotional and mental water, mania became addictive and I wish I could feel it every day. I eventually levelled out when my body adjusted, and a part of me really, really wants it back. I loved it in the past when my bipolar nature swung upward in a rare moment, and it always ended far too quickly.

I’m actually eager to do things when I’m manic. I want to write, go to the gym, organise my room, clean my car. No longer do I feel like it is somewhat of a chore; instead, I want to do everything I used to consider drudgery. I’m absolutely convinced that a lot of things would have been different had I discovered this at an earlier age. Obviously, I didn’t feel it for long and thus have no idea what life would be like if I couldn’t stop, but damn…it was heavenly when I was in the middle of it.

In any event, that is the story behind the name, and I apologise for deleting that particular post. I also just realised I have posted quite a few things in a short amount of time, so enjoy it while it lasts. 🙂

-S

Trivial Words: Cookies and crackers

The holidays are now over and the gargantuan, slavering Beast of Commercialism has finally lapsed into fitful slumber. The holidays were fairly busy for me, so I beg pardon to those of you who like these posts.

In the United States Christmas is known for a great deal of food, presents, and family reunions while New Year’s Day is associated with fireworks, Times Square, and family outings. So, to celebrate both holidays (and keeping up with a tradition I’ve just started), we will discuss two items that are synonymous with them: Cookies and firecrackers.

A favorite of the ages

Cookies have pretty much been in existence since baking was invented, but most historians consider 7th century Persia to be the “official birthplace” of the cookie. Sugar had become readily accessible by the populace around that time, so it was probably inevitable that someone would make a treat out of it. They also served a secondary purpose: Travellers would carry them on trips as a food source since they were relatively small and light and wouldn’t spoil; in fact, the “jumble” was a cookie specifically designed for this purpose. The populace of a city visited by travelling merchants were probably curious about these strange little cakes and, after trying them, wanted some for themselves. They would copy it, adding nuts, berries, and/or various sweeteners (most likely almonds or honey) for variety and recognition value, and their travelling merchants carried their unique cookies with them to other places, and so on ad infinitum. Eventually, cookies were found everywhere in Europe by the 14th century because travelling to distant, foreign lands was apparently a great deal of fun.

We have the Dutch to thank for the name of this delightful treat. Their word for these little confections was koekje (derived from koek), meaning “little cake”, and it was Anglicised to “cookie” during the early part of the 18th century. There is even a famous cookie recipe attributed to Martha Washington (the wife of George Washington)!

We must also thank the Dutch for introducing the Christmas cookie to the United States in the early parts of the 17th century (or at least the concept of it). Shortly thereafter, the advent of cookie cutters and shaped molds to create intricate designs made it easier to make unique and decorative cookies during the holiday, and the rest is history!

(As an aside: While the transition from koekje to “cookie” is fairly straightforward, koek did not transition to “cake” despite the similar sounding name.)

Have a cracking good time!

Firecrackers have been around since the Chinese invented them around the turn of the millennium. Before gunpower was invented they would continuously heat bamboo until the hot air and pressure caused it to explode with a loud noise, which is why their word for firecrackers is baozhu, or “exploding bamboo”. Firecrackers are also known simply as “crackers” in England, but we Americans wouldn’t have any of that. The term was already in use for something else and we are easily confused, so we made up our own word to avoid re-naming the other thing. Isn’t society great?

Firecrackers have developed a fairly important part of cultures around the world; specifically, culture-specific festivals and celebrations. Diwali (India), Guy Fawkes Night or Bonfire Night (United Kingdom), and Bastille Day (France) are just a few examples where fireworks factor into the merriment. It is also important to places that make them: the city of Sivakasi, located in India, is famous for its firecracker industry and supplies them throughout the country. No one is really sure why they have become an integral part of these festivals, but it may have to do with their very nature. Many cultures believed (or still do) loud noises and light had some sort of tangible impact on spirits/ghosts, so it is quite possible they saw firecrackers in use and thought “Hey, those are exactly what we need!”.

In America (and presumably in other areas of the world) everyone loves a good fireworks show. The complexity of the devices (sometimes referred to as “shells” or “rockets”) is staggering and many companies that specialise in them work hard to create even more mind-blowing results. Yes, the pun was intentional.

Independence Day and New Year’s Day are the two main American holidays where fireworks are used. The association with Independence Day probably came about because the colonists brought firecrackers with them and used them during important events and Independence Day itself. The use of fireworks during New Year’s Day may have been influenced by the Chinese New Year celebrations that use firecrackers in a symbolic gesture, but it could also be because we had a bunch left over from Independence Day and needed to get rid of them.

And there you have it.

Sources: Wikipedia, Merriam-Webster Dictionary, Online Etymology Dictionary

How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Solitude

 

(Before I begin: A happy holiday to everyone and I hope they went as well as you had hoped!)

I am terrible at dating. I really am.

I’m awkward around people I don’t know very well, I have a terrible habit of not watching what I am saying, and I am really out of touch with a great deal of modern events. I also have a propensity for honesty (let’s be honest with ourselves and call dating what it really is at the beginning: strutting) and that has bitten me in the ass a few times because that, combined with my lack of attention to what I’m saying, has deep-sixed a few dates.

And by “a few dates”, I mean one or two. I told you I was terrible at it.

While I wasn’t exactly an outgoing person in my youth, I was a great deal more active in the dating circuit than I am now (especially now). I exaggerated here and there, attempted to impress the other person, do all the nice things that people do to show an interest without actually saying they’re interested. I would hang onto their every word, observe their actions, and hear their tone of voice, hoping to catch a glimpse of reciprocation.

Wait…that’s the part I have difficulty with.

I don’t know how it all came about, or how the thought process formed in my head, but it is incredibly difficult for me to lie. I don’t even like exaggerating because I was an insufferable, arrogant dick when I was younger and did that all the time, so it is something I never wish to repeat. I do not want to fall into that trap again!

Anyway, back to the subject of lying, difficulty of. Any time I am tempted to be deceptive or underhanded about something, I am suddenly gripped with an utter fear that I will be the one that gets caught. Not my neighbors, my coworkers, or my family. I will get busted cheating on a test, lying to my boss, or stealing from a store. I also have no desire to be associated with falsehood and deception, so I try to be as honest and as forthright as I can. This can be problematic in the dating scene.

I have said things that were of the “worst place, worst time” category on several occasions. If it is even possible, it is exacerbated by the fact that my words and tone are sometimes out of sync, creating confusion and/or shocked outrage (depending on the subject matter); adding deception to it is just asking for trouble. I’m simply terrible at keeping quiet! I also don’t exaggerate or gloss over anything; my rationale is that if things worked out and we started dating, they’d see through the lies I created when we were dating. When you date me, you get what it says on the outside of the tin.

I was chastised by some of the old queens I used to know when I came over to grouse about life. They would tell me to keep some secrets, don’t lay all your cards on the table, and so on. At the time it made sense, but now?

Screw that.

I no longer have the time, energy, or patience to wade through months of dating just to find out it woudn’t’ve worked out. Instead, I just flat out tell people what I’m thinking (or try to, at least…I’m still a bit of a coward in that department, as many of us are) and let them judge me however they like. My last relationship started by me saying I liked him and the feeling seemed mutual, so would he like to go grab a bite to eat? I stopped trying to cater to other people’s demands and started doing things my way. Back then rejection was a heart-wrenching ordeal; now I just flip them off and move on. Fuck them, I’d say, and go on about my life. No more crying jags feeling sorry for myself! No more heartache; instead, I just shrug my shoulders and go on about my business.

What contributed to this newfound thought process? I’d like to think it is because I have become more accustomed to single life, or because I’ve matured, or something else undefinable. Hopefully it will continue this way until I am unequivocably, unswervingly comfortable with myself.