Get out of my mind!

video game, Facebook

Screen shot from iPhone

I’m not sure how it started, but I can’t stop playing Candy Crush Saga.  OK, obviously that’s not true because I’m not playing it right now.  But it has seeped into my subconscious.  I do know that it all began on Facebook.

Did you ever play Tetris as a kid? Then you had Tetris dreams like I did.  It’s not so much that I’m having Candy Crush Saga dreams…I have had them, but this game is odd. I’ll be doing something mundane (going to the bathroom) and suddenly an image of green, yellow and red candies appears in my mind.  Instantly, I look for a pattern and then realize I’m not playing that damn game.

What the hell is going on with me?  Is it some kind of sweet induced mind control? No, because I find myself hating those chocolate pieces that grow randomly.

I know it’s not just me.  Paul is having the same thing going on.  And that’s all my fault because I started playing that game first…he saw me and got hooked.

I’m trying like hell not to play that game.  There are tons of things to keep me busy, but I keep finding myself logging into Facebook and looking for those damn pieces of candy.

video games, Facebook

Screen shot from iPhone

Dreaming is always weird.  I don’t remember my dreams every night.  According to that article I linked from Scientific American, dreaming might be a reinforcement of a learned task.  It’s probably way more complicated than that.  Emotions certainly play a part in dreaming.  It also doesn’t explain why I suddenly have those images of candies pop up into my awareness at random while awake.

It’s just stress

Apparently, one of the things doctors do for women who start on birth control pills is to check their blood pressure after a few months of doses.  So the other day, I went back in for my follow up.

Of course, it had to be a day when I was stressed out at work.  I hate being late and it never fails, whenever I have an appointment (made weeks ago, of course) someone has a fire that needs to be put out 10 minutes before I have to leave.

Also, I HATE getting my blood pressure taken.  Give me a shot.  Give me a pelvic exam. I can deal with those better than that horrible cuff trying to sever my arm.  Needless to say, my readings were high.

I knew something was wrong.  Usually my readings are in the healthy range.  Oh wait, I’m sorry.  Now they are in the “pre-hypertension” range.  Something I beleive to be bullshit made up by the health insurance industry.  Of course, I have no proof,  but 10 years ago, my 120-125 systolic readings were in the healthy range.  Now they are a warning sign of impending doom.  Never mind that my resting heart rate is almost always between 50-65 and my diastolic is almost never over 80.

This used to be normal.

This used to be normal.

How do I know this?  My doctor told me to buy a blood pressure monitor and take random readings for the next few weeks to see where my levels really lie.

Now this is normal..barely.

Now this is normal..barely.

At home, everything was copacetic, so I decided to take it to work today and see if the stress was going to kill me.  No.  Today was a mellow day, so my readings were normal, well old normal.  Of course the silly little cuff on my wrist (I couldn’t bring myself to buy an arm one) made a HUGE amount of noise when it was inflating.

“What are you doing over there??”

I sat there in silence.  Talking raises your blood pressure.  I didn’t need a false reading.

Of course, when everyone saw what I was doing, they had to check themselves out and see what their reading was…uh.  People, you need to mellow out.

In space, no one can hear your frustration

Did you know that there are missing moon rocks?  Seriously.  Yesterday I read this article in the Sacramento Bee about how some moon rocks from Apollo 11 mysteriously turned up in a storage room in Minnesota.

My cousin said it best, “Well this is a little ridiculous. Who misplaces moon rocks?”

Apparently, 11 other states can’t find their moon rocks either.  What I didn’t know is that there were rocks brought back from the Apollo 11 mission and the Apollo 17 mission.  Yes, I’m a bad American.  I should know those things.

But, I have Google, so I can learn that which I do not know…except when I can’t really find it.  I found this site called Collect Space that lists the Apollo 17 and the Apollo 11 rocks and their known locations across the planet. Of course, since it’s not an official NASA sanctioned page, I tend to have my doubts about the authenticity of the information, but it’s not Wikipedia, so I guess I’ll allow it.

What did I learn through my reading?  No one is allowed to sell moon rocks in the United States.  At least, that’s what the AP article said. This article in the Star Tribune shocked me and I sort of want to see this guy’s research:

Iffert said his research found that most moon rocks from the Apollo 11 and 17 missions that were given out by Nixon as goodwill gestures are unaccounted for.

Most of the rocks are missing?!?  That’s a tragedy if it’s true.  Why can’t we keep track of our moon rocks, America?  Can’t we get organized and set up a filing system?

When I tried to find where California’s moon rock is currently located, I found out that some lady tried to sell a moon rock last year.  They met in a Denny’s.  Denny’s!  Everyone knows if you want to sell a moon rock, you’ve got to go to a Johnny Rockets.

Cakes gone wild

I love to bake.  It’s probably because I try to self-medicate my stress with sugar.  However, I’ve never been a fan of fancy baked goods.  What matters is how they taste not what they look like, so when I read this article on Mashable about augmented reality cakes by Disney, I knew things had gone too far.

Seriously, when did it become OK to play with your food?  Can’t we just come up with new flavor combinations or perfect the ones we already have?  When it comes to cake, old fashioned chocolate layer cake or yellow cake with chocolate frosting is the best.  Everything else is just trying too hard.

Things that confuse me: The drug edition

Can I ask a favor of scientists & pharmaceutical companies? Stop focusing your efforts on hair loss and male enhancement and work on a drug that decongests my sinuses without losing my sense of smell or giving me heart palpitations!

I mean we live in a world where a man can look at live video from another planet and yet I still have to blow my nose 100 times a day because there’s nothing I can do to shrink my sinus passages without doing harm to other parts of my body.

OK, so you aren’t going to give us a flying car. I can live with that. Most people can’t handle the cars on the ground. Put them in the air? Well I guess it might thin the herd a bit and free us up of the burden of the perpetually stupid.

Seriously, there’s no reason I should suffer this way. I mean isn’t there something you can do about this on the molecular level and not have a laundry list of side effects worse than the ailment being treated?

“Sure I can breathe freely, but now I have anal leakage.” Yeah. No thanks. The liabilities outweigh the assets there. I’ll just keep my nose chapped instead. That’s less gross and embarrassing.

What’s grosser than gross?

Apparently, I’ve entered the snotty, stuffed up sinus phase of my illness.  Last night, I encountered the lovely sinus pressure and felt like my right ear was going to explode.  So of course, I tried to “pop” it.  I’m guessing I was trying to change the pressure in my head…either way, it was a bad, bad idea.

Remember the great red spot on Jupiter?

Well it’s ON MY EYE!

In my eye!

Please pardon the unkempt eyebrow.  I honestly didn’t realize they were that bad until I was looking at these photos.  Hopefully, you can’t see the smeared mascara just below my eye.  It was barely 5:45 in the morning when I noticed this horrible contusion.  Wait, that’s a bruise…maybe it’s an explosion.  Either way, it doesn’t hurt, but it scares the crap out of me.

Oh, I’m sorry…it’s a HEMORRHAGE.  That makes me feel so much better, Mayo Clinc.  Basically, there’s nothing I can do until the blood absorbs back into my eye.  Pardon me while I barf.  I get to walk around with this for two weeks?

Do you see any change?  It’s been over 12 hours now.  There has to be some improvement…at least to my eyebrow.

Partial Eclipse of the Sun

On Sunday there is an eclipse. Why am I so fascinated by these celestial events? Maybe because they always seem to be visible only in far off lands I’d never visit. This time, I could drive up the hill (that’s a reference to Lake Tahoe or Reno for you non-Sacramentans) and see the moon pass in front of the sun.

They say that scientists no longer learn anything during an eclipse. That sort of makes me sad. We can’t have figured everything out. There seem to be so many questions left about the universe.

Now the question is do I go and hunt down a special pair of solar eclipse goggles or do I make the homemade cardboard box pinhole contraption that has baffled me since I was a kid?

What I would really like to do is a last minute trek to see the full effect of the eclipse, but since I refuse to do that alone and have no one to accompany me, I will let the dream continue to be a dream.