Tuesday, July 18, 2006

New Thing #121: I finally developed the ginormous bag of old film I've had for, like, ever

I've decided I'm not going to liveblog Fresh Meat anymore. I kind of got tired of doing it. But when I was watching tonight's episode, the one thing that really hit home for me was Evan and his hernia. Because he goes on and on and on about how much his hernia is hurting him (and I had a hernia in 2001, so I know what he's talking about he says it hurts) (they hurt a freaking lot) but then all of a sudden they show Evan wrestling with Wes, and when I say they were wrestling I mean they were rolling all over the living room and falling over couches and while I was watching all of their frantic, crazed wrestling maneuvers, I sat with a hand over my belly (I had a belly button hernia, not a balls hernia) and remembered the pain and something seemed kinda hewey and not right because if Evan really truly does have a bad hernia, then he would NOT be able to wrestle all over the living room with Wes. So either he's playing up his hernia and it's really not that bad, or he doesn't really have one at all and it's all manufactured drama, or he does have one and he's fucked it up even worse than it was before, but I'm going to stop speculating because, like I said several sentences ago, I am retiring the whole Fresh Meat liveblogging thing (not that this could even remotely pass as a "live-blogging" of the show since I'm not even sitting in front of my television right now)

Speaking of hernias, New Thing #121: I developed the bag of disposable cameras that I've been collecting for the last six years. (I realize it doesn't sound like I'm still "speaking of hernias," but believe me, I am.) No joke, I had this bag that I've been toting around for the last six years with all of these disposable cameras in it that I've somehow collected over the years but never gotten developed, and the other day I decided to, like, finally get them developed, and I was really paranoid that none of the photos would come out because I wasn't sure if film has an experation date or not, and I've totally been keeping the bag of disposable cameras in the trunk of my car (and that can't be good) (in fact, when I took them in to be developed, I asked the woman if film had an experation date and she didn't seem to know, but she promised me the film should be fine as long as I haven't been storing it in the trunk of my car, so I told her, "hell no, are you kidding me? what kind of putz stores disposable cameras in the trunk of their car for five years?" And then we both had a laugh about that and then I left the photo development place with a heavy heart because I was fairly certain that all of the photos would be some melty undevelopable mess. But when I went back to the photo developers a few hours later, she handed me a huge stack of envelopes and suddenly I had all of these pictures that I feverishly poured through. These pictures span the last five years of my life. They're all over the map. It was so weird to look through them. A lot of them were from while I was working on Red Light, Green Light at Theatre of NOTE (some from our very first read through) and it made me really want to be in rehearsals for a new show soon (and I'm saying that here in the spirit of Saying Shit Out Loud) (because I've said it before and I'll say it again: that shit is powerful). It's just been way too long since I've been in a dark theater working on one of my plays. Let's make it happen soon.

Anyway, one of the rolls of film was from my hernia operation in 2001. Literally the entire roll was devoted to pictures before, during, and after the operation. I'm serious. I remember the weirdest part of the whole ordeal (oh my god the pain) (the pain was awful) (but the weirdest part) was when I woke up after the operation...okay, wait, actually, I didn't notice this until I got home...but while I was under, they shaved my belly so they could cut into me and sew me up inside (ouch, ouch, fucking ouch) and I knew they were going to shave my belly because they told me that was what they were going to do, but when I got home I noticed that they had also shaved my right thigh, which seemed REALLY STRANGE to me, and to this day, five years later, I still cannot figure out why they would have needed to shave my thigh, I just can't think of a logical reason, other than maybe whoever it is who shaves people while they're under aenesthesia (and seriously, what a weird job that is--to shave random people's random body parts while they're sleeping) was in a weird mood and they just decided to shave my thigh for shits and giggles, or what, but it kinda freaks me out, because I don't even want to venture to guess what else they did to me while I was under, if they went so far as to randomly shave my right thigh. (Remember that episode of Seinfeld when he wakes up at the dentist's office and the dentist and his technician are zipping up zippers?) (Um, exactly.)

Anyway, here's one of my post-hernia surgery photos. I want to tell you that my belly is so big in the photo because it was really swollen from the surgery but the truth is my belly is so big in the photo because I have a buddha belly.


I don't think it's quite that big anymore, but it's still a buddha belly. I'm buying a bicycle this week. Actually, I'm not buying it--PAM told me she'd get me one for my birthday, which is in three weeks--but I think I'm going to get it this week, because ever since I saw An Inconvenient Truth, I feel guilty every time I'm in my car, and I really want to start biking (and you should too) (but not ONLY because it's good for the environment) (though that should be a good enough reason) (but also because it's good for my belly) (and if it's good for my belly, that means that maybe I'll live long enough to appreciate this wonderful earth we live on and how great it's going to be when we stop treating it like a massive waste site and start treating it like we love it or something) (and how did I start this post by talking about how I'm not going to be live-blogging Fresh Meat and then suddenly I've posted a picture of my bandaged post-hernia buddha belly and I'm worrying about the earth turning into a giant oven that will kill us all?) (and I'm sweating as I type this because the earth is seriously turning into a giant over) (seriously) (a giant oven)

ESPN reran the entire first season of The Contender over the weekend and I Tivo'd the whole dang thing and then this evening I watched a few select fights and I was sitting there in front of my TV just bawling my eyes out. And these are boxing matches that I've seen before. I know how they're going to end. I know who's going to win. But I'm still punching my fists into the air and rooting and cheering and hollaring at the TV set and tears are streaming down my face the whole time. It's fucking good drama. The fight that really got me (if you know the show, or if you know the boxers, or if you have even a remote idea about what I'm talking about right now) was the fight between Joey and Manfredo. I wanted Manfredo to win--he's the better boxer--and he's such a great dad--and I love how he is with his wife--and I love that his dad used to be his coach and he's had to learn how to coach himself for the first time in his life since he moved out to Los Angeles--and he just has so much heart--but as I was watching the fight, I saw how much heart Joey had as well, and it was like watching him become a man, and I cannot believe that I believe in boxing, but there's so much heart in the sport and watching these fights...I was just like a puddle of goo.

I'm almost tired of my beard. It's longer than it has ever been in the history of my face. This comment was pretty much apropos of nothing, but as I was writing about my abnormal love of boxing, I suddenly became, like, hyper-aware of the hair on my face. People keep asking me if I went through an itchy period, and I've been telling them no, because I haven't (I think it's because I've been a lazy shaver for so many years and I've let it get past the itchy stage enough times in my life that my face has pretty much gotten used to the hair thing) but I'm wondering if I'm about to go through a later-stage awkward beard period, because I'm really aware of it all of a sudden. I wonder if I can count my beard as a New Thing, since it's never been this long before? Maybe I need to let it grow a few more inches before it deserves that kind of status.

This post has been all over the map. I have no idea how cohesive it is. All of a sudden I've hit a brick wall and my body is demanding that I go to sleep right now. So toodles.

12 comments:

Rebecca said...

(and I'm sweating as I type this because the earth is seriously turning into a giant over)

^ sweet typo!

FIRST!

Love ya!

communicatrix said...

You are too handsome for so much beard. So I give you...

"New thing #122: I shaved off my beard b/c Colleen told me to."

Paul said...

I know your wonder over a shaved thigh. I had the same experience after a vasectomy. Answer: the aenesthesiologist needs to get a clear visual of veins there to inject his stuff.

Anonymous said...

^
don't we all.
Lindsay

Erik said...

Lindsay, ha!

Erik said...

Rebecca, I was so tired when I wrote this that I'm surprised there weren't MORE typos! Seriously. I can't even really remember what I wrote in this post. Like, I haven't reread it and if you asked me right now what I was talking about, I'd be like, "um, what?"

Erik said...

Colleen...

ahhhh, thanks for calling me handsome, but (and honestly I cannot remember what I said about my beard in this post, so maybe I was bagging on the beard and those are my true subconscious feelings about the whole thing that I now, in my fully awake state, am not willing to cop to) I'm really into the idea of letting my beard grow until it's abnormally long.

Like, I kinda want to be "that guy with the beard."

As in, when people are talking, one person might say, "You know Erik Patterson, right?" and then the other person might say, "who?" and then the first person would say "you know, the guy with the beard," then the second person will be like, "oh, right, yeah--what about him," like, that's how distinctive I kinda want my beard to get.

BUT when I DO eventually shave it off (and I will), I will totally say that I've done it because Colleen told me to. (Though it won't be New Thing #122) (just sayin')

Erik said...

Paul,

so the aenesthesiologist (wow, what a difficult word to spell) shot his stuff in MY THIGH???

christy said...

Colleen's right...

I mean it's cool for you to have your "beard experience", like my friend who is now a married preacher (can anyone say, "Get on the ball, Christy"?) once, in her single days, went a year without shaving her legs.

Your beard should be like that.

TheDarkerUma said...

erik....i like calling you a yeti.

christy....i haven't shaved my legs in over a year. i recently told my boyfriend and he said he hadn't noticed. so guess who is never shaving her legs again? god bless my sri lankan genes.

alas, my pits are not so lucky. (too much info?)

Erik said...

urp, i am amazed by your non-yetilike body hair.

Anonymous said...

damn you, uma...

my mother doesn't shave her legs either; she has a total of two hairs on them. literally! this caused much annoyance during my hippie phases (about every other semester) when she would tell me to shave, and i would tell her she really shouldn't talk since she didn't have to deal with it herself. maybe she's sri lankan...
xo,
Lindsay Lindsay