Irrsinn.net: taking joy in human unreason

2005 March 17

Accepted. Or not.

Barring other problems, I’m going to Notre Dame this summer, y’all.

If you’re too scared to swing, don’t step up to the plate, right? Now I just have to work on not missing.

I felt miserable about my decision, which is a bad sign. So I enlisted the help of Mr. “He’s fond of you” to compose the eViL e-mail reneging since, according to him, “Men can rationalize anything.”

?!

I want to turn them down, but I don’t know how because I don’t have any other reason other than, “I don’t wanna!”. *whimper*

“Them” being the awe-inspiring, prestigious group of scientists that want me to work with them this summer and want to give me money. Lots of money.

I want to say no. But I want to say yes, too. But I don’t know that I have the skillset. And I don’t know that the leading scientist has the patience to put up with a lack of expertise while I struggle to learn.

It could be stressful. I’m a wimp. I don’t want to be stressed during my summer.

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Recent Posts

Good reads

It’s been a loooong time since I posted some good reading.

5 Things I Learned as the Internet’s Most Hated Person | Cracked.com
"I watched every avenue of social media suddenly blow up with messages of abject hatred from thousands of strangers. For the first five days, I couldn't sleep. Every time I would start to doze off, I'd be shocked awake from half-asleep nightmares about everyone I love buying into the mob's bullshit and abandoning me. The ceaseless barrage of random people sending you disgusting shit is initially impossible to drown out — it was constant, loud, and it became my life."
They Are Not Trolls. They Are Men. | Make Me a Sammich
"By calling these people “trolls,” we are basically letting them off the hook. It’s a lot like the “boys will be boys” mentality that helps to keep rape culture thriving, but it’s also different, because boys are expected to be human. By calling these people “trolls,” we relegate them to non-human status, and we make it clear that we don’t expect them to live up to the same behavioral standards as human beings." Keep reading >>

I swam!

My cat Greg, dozing in a cat bed.

Greg-the-cat, tired from thunderstorm-related anxiety.

Physical therapy has been progressing nicely. I’ve “passed” all my flexibility/range of motion requirements, and am focusing pretty heavily on strength while making sure not to lose the flexibility. I saw the surgeon Tuesday for a check-in, and they were a little disappointed at my strength at this point in my recovery.

September 13 was the 3-month mark for the surgery, though, which is when I’m supposed to be clear to resume some more interesting exercise. With surgeon and PT approval, I’m doing so. I’m taking things quite slowly, because if I do anything off-hours that leaves me too sore to move (or worse, injured!), then my PT work will be compromised. The plan is to do an activity, wait a day to see how sore I get, and then judge from that whether I should cut back or can ramp up.

My first activity was swimming. I’m not a skilled swimmer anymore — I can happily fake a breaststroke for a while (my favorite), but my smoothest method of traversing water is the good ol’ doggie paddle. I can do it forever.

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Moar PT

My cat Jackie, looking regal and calm.

Jackie, listening patiently to my explanation of why she can’t head-butt my arm when I’m lying on the floor stretching.

Halp. They keep adding exercises, but not taking any away. O_O

My current routine takes about 45 minutes, and I do it three times a day. Forty-five minutes.

  1. Pendulums (I like front/back and side-to-side better than circular, but I do them all)
  2. Table slides (1×10 at two angles)
  3. Pulleys (1×10 at two angles)
  4. Single-side shoulder blade pinch
  5. External rotation stretch (1×15; done lying down with a cane)
  6. Lying cane raises (1×15)
  7. Isometric flexion (1×10)
  8. Isometric extension (1×10)
  9. More pendulums

Each of those (sans the pendulums) has a 5-10 second hold on it. If not for audiobooks and kick-ass music, I’d probably be tempted to shortcut some of this. Which would be sad, because holy shit, my arm is feeling better. Just today, in fact, I was able to reach the knobs on both my kitchen and bathroom sinks. Took concentration and effort, but I did it.

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First PT Appointment!

Jackie, asleep on my physical therapy papers.

Jackie was exhausted after physical therapy, and so took a nap on my–I mean our–page of exercises.

I’m a little late starting PT, as I mentioned before, but this morning’s session went well. The therapist had me lie down and relax as she gently wiggled my arm away from my body in different directions. I was impressed that my arm could get as high as it did after being in one position for seven weeks.

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A New Granny Squares Design Incoming

So… not to put too much pressure on my designer, but I’ve actually hired someone to do a design for Granny Squares!

A screenshot of Granny Square Colors as of July 2014.

The site as of July 2014.

Its current look was always intended to be revamped down the road — I just needed something simple and clean to get the site rolling. With a few thousand visitors a month now, and with 56% of my users on some form of mobile device, it’s time for a facelift. I’ve gotten a few donations from running the site over the last 3 years, and that’s enough to cover the design costs.

I should have ready-to-implement designs by mid-August. I won’t promise an implementation date yet, but I’ll wrap up whatever version of the site I’m on at that point and make getting the new look in place the priority.

The PT Appointment Is Made

My cat Jackie, curled up and looking lazy.

Your dose of cat for this post.

Had my 5-ish week checkup this morning with the shoulder surgeon (strange person — I’d describe them as “brusquely kind”), and based on my pain levels, the prognosis is good!

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Feeling Better… With Holes in My Shoulder

Shoulder surgery happened on June 13 (a little over five weeks ago). This whole process has been… fascinating.

The surgical morning itself had that weird fast-slow sensation to it: it felt like the waiting was forever, and then suddenly I was getting wheeled back and drawn on and poked and suddenly I was waking up and couldn’t breathe and coughing and then waiting… again.

My two cats curled up together, sleeping In one of the waiting phases, I did an awesomely helpful meditation with PUUC‘s Rev Robin. I went into surgery nice and calm, and everyone was pleased and surprised at my cheery demeanor afterwards. Aside from occasional whining, my mood remains pretty cheerful, despite some miscommunications that have occurred.

During one of the wait periods that morning, a random person came by and dropped off the sling I’d be wearing for at least 6 weeks. Hi, random person. I don’t know you, but you were pretty nice.

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