Doing some reading, this website pointed out many grammar flops made by people on a regular basis. This site, that had the errors most commonly made by people, easily caught my attention. As I read through it, I realized that I have indeed been guilty of them from time to time.

Anyone else whom might like to believe he himself never has made such an error, should realize that while this is not likely, they could very well be telling the truth. These errors vary in severity, and sometimes the author of the error is simply unaware of what they put out. Due to the fact that school’s no longer bother to teach spelling and grammar with the vigor they once had, I fear that the problem is only going to get worse. It is no different from schools who no longer bother, to teach math being that the invention of calculator’s have made it a seemingly unnecessary skill.

[SIC] for every error made within the above text. Special thanks to Thomas Jones for this article on Grammar Rules everyone should follow.

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(See previous post if you need)…

I did manage to put the kitchen sink plumbing back together, but then had a leak. I’m not sure why, since the ‘screw it together’ style pipes my kitchen sink seems to have generally are not supposed to need any plumbers putty type stuff.

Tim came by, and inspected my (supposed handyman work), and we went to Home Depot to get a few new pieces, since I had discovered one broken plastic pipe piece with what looked like a ‘repaired’ crack.

Then he checked the disposer / disposal (I am still not sure which is the correct term, really), and everything was restored to working order.

I was given a B- for my work.

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Around 10:00 this morning, I realized the garbage disposer side of my sink was not draining. This can only lead to the conclusion that someone has been putting some of the “Don’t put this kind of food in the disposer” things down the disposer. “Someone”… at least in my mind might include my daughter, or perhaps friend Tim… and there is a slight possibility that it MAY have been… ME* (*Through research, I learned that coffee grounds are among the many other things one should not wash down the garbage disposer).

I may-or-may-not have uttered some foul language, left the water running and flipped the power switch a few times in hopes that the clog would magically clear itself. With a few more interesting and eloquent phrases of speech, I turned the disposer off, turned the water off, and went to the circuit breaker to ensure that I cut the power to the unit in the event that I would have to dismantle the disposal as well. (More colorful metaphors° ensued), and I gathered the tools that may-or-may-not be required in order to repair a clogged sink.

I removed all of the standard under-the-kitchen-sink items, placed them well out of the way, and sighed, resigning myself to be forced to attempt to act as a plumber; a job, while it is indeed a necessary–very appreciated, and noble profession — it is not a profession which I would personally choose.

From this point forward, please bear with me in my terminology of things of the plumbing nature, as plumbing is neither my profession, nor the profession of any of my relatives. Therefore, I may use certain words that are not accurate to the item I am discussing. It is what it is, and I am merely trying to tell my story. You may correct me in the comments if you feel it is necessary.

The supplies mentioned above, which I gathered before starting my quest included a basin tub, intended to catch any and all water that come out once I disconnected the pipes. The basin, had roughly an inch of water in it, and the above sink still had about 2-3″.

Starting with the U-bend pipe, then the one on my left hand side that connects the U-bend to the pipe that comes out of the disposer unit. I then took the other pipes off, and upon inspection, none of these pipes had anything blocking the flow of the water that normally moves freely through them.

I uttered more seemingly obscene (but very suitable in choice) language, and did some quick research to ensure that Liquid Plumber and Drano and the like are indeed safe for garbage disposers. (Just so you know — do not ever use the Crystals kind in these units–BUT you’ll need to research that further on your own.) I found that Liquid Plumber and the like are considered safe, (checked the placement of my basin), and poured half a bottle into the clogged drain, and came back to the couch to wait.

Meanwhile, of all of the people in the world to receive a text message from, I get one from Tim. Tim, who grew up with a father that (while he lives in Louisiana) is a Master PLUMBER, still working at the age of 70, and still loving his occupation. That is to say that Tim – has a fairly good grasp on things that have to do with plumbing.

He gave some opinions and tips, asking what I have done to this point, and what he thought I should do next… along with offering to come by once he is no longer needed at work and check it.

I thanked him, and stated that I wanted to try to fix it now, since I will be needing my sink throughout the day, and then added that I would let him know. [I am not a fool - I would never just push a free plumber away, albeit apprentice or journeyman level]. While talking to him, I heard the clog release, and the water that was trapped in the sink and drain was flowing freely.

I breathed a sigh of relief, and was very happy to find that the amount of water now in the wash basin was just below the top of the basin itself, but had not overflowed. I carefully carried this outside, dumped it near the back gate, noticing that some person had neglected to pick up their dog’s POO, having left that outside on my sidewalk. (That is also — another story for another time.)

I came back in and started to reassemble the pipes, suddenly realizing that it might have been smart to take a photo of it before dismantling it in the first place. Granted, it is not a great number of pipe-pieces, but when your frustration level is approaching what mine was — (being frustrated enough to make you pull your hair out), your memory of such seemingly simple things tends to lapse.

I found, in my reassembly, that one of the plastic “nuts” is cracked, and likely has been since before I purchased the home. (It just has never leaked or had any problems, so it went unnoticed.) Made a mental note to go to Home Depot and buy some under-the-kitchen-sink plumbing parts…

I did manage to get it back together. I filled the sink half-way, and then “pulled the plug” to check my work. It worked, but it had a trickle-level leak at one of the nuts where the U-pipe connected to the straight one. When I attempted to adjust this, the leak became more than a leak, gushing out the liter or so of water with which I had filled the sink. (more creative word linking), and a text telling Tim I’d see him later when he came to correct my work.

°colorful metaphor – a term coined by Leonard Nemoy (Dr. Spock) in Star Trek IV, when trying to describe some profanity he had overheard.

That is about it for this story… other than later updating you on the status of the pipes.

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I was sitting in a classroom, front row, directly in the center between two the two walls, which seemed to be impossibly tall.

The instructor, despite the fact that there were other students in the class, seemed to be staring directly at me as she spoke.

She was older, perhaps once an attractive woman, and she exuded arrogance. She was talking about various medications, their side effects, and other things; so it may have been a pharmacology review or something similar to that. However, none of the medications she was talking about were remotely familiar to me, and none of the reasons people would take the medications seemed real.

As her seemingly deep voice, which was dreadfully monotone, droned on, students began to drop to the floor. They seemed to be sleeping, but I later realized that everybody was dying.

Literaly
      dropping
        like
          flies

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I was talking with a panel of three persons I did not know. They were apparently the decision makers for the school. I was appealing in order to try to get reinstated for the single class I will need to finish my degree.

As much as I don’t want to return to this school, it is the smartest option, since I would have to retake two semesters of classes if I transferred to a new school (as if college really works that way).

I left the panel of people, and as I walked out of the school doors… the dream “shiftedA dream shift is what I call it when you are dreaming about something and the dream flips completely around to a different story... not unlike if you someone changed the TV channel while you were watching something.” — and it was now dark.

•.•.•.•

I was now outside, and walking down the middle of the street on which I lived as a child.from the time I was born until I was five. I could hear a sound, repetitive and rhythmic in its pattern but NOT easily identifiable…

The sound consisted of slap, slap, and then simultaneously, the sound of something soft and hard dragging on concrete, with a little high pitched hollow tap at the end.

Slap, slap, squrooonk-tap.

I could not discern from which direction the sound was coming; as the sound carried through the dark and quiet house-lined street had a faint echo.

The street lights, which I remember from childhood having illuminated the street well, were out, and the half moon, while it did provide some illumination, was partially obscured by very old pine trees, (and therefore, the moonlight did not greatly improve visibility.)

I struggled to pinpoint the direction of the sound. Standing still, so that my own footsteps did not interfere with my ability to hear the
“Slap, slap, squrooonk-tap” as whatever it was moved down the street.

Among the other night sounds, (crickets and very distant cars on the expressway), The slap, slap.. squrooonk-tap now seemed to be getting louder, which meant “The IT” that was making the sound was getting closer. I just could not figure out the direction from which the sound was coming.

Slap, slap, squrooonk-tap.
Slap, slap, squrooonk-tap.

Then, I could see movement, on the darkness of the asphalt, low to the ground. As The IT moved closer I could make out what I saw.

It appeared to be a person, and it was moving towards me. It looked like an old man, frail and bald. His hands, bald head, and face were dirty, and had what looked like drying clotted blood on them. He made no grunting or breathing sounds… All that could be heard, over the usual songs of the crickets and frogs, was the “Slap, slap, squrooonk-tap”the sound was made as each of his hands hit the asphalt, followed by the sound of his body dragging along the ground, and the tap of his spine, being bare, tapping on the asphalt. of his progress as he made his way down the middle of the street …

Directly towards me.

As he got closer, I noticed, and could now confirm, WHY the man was “Slap, slap, squrooonk-tapping” his way down the street. He had no legs. Still, as he became even closer, I could see that something seemed to have separated his body, having removed his legs and pelvis, but had left his entire spine intact, all the way down to his tail-bone.

The man thumped and scrape-tapped his way, now even closer, and I could smell him. Not unlike the smell a raw beef roast will have if is not fresh. These were my childhood interpretations and ideas(inaccurate in detail) of what things like this would look, sound, and smell like.

The IT was now directly at my feet. I looked down at him and waited for him to speak…

And then I woke up.

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I experienced something “new to me” today. I don’t think it would really count as a valid thing in my “2013 New – to – Me Challenge”, but I will chalk it up as an experience that was, indeed “new to me”.

“What was this experience, Sir Pero,” you ask? Well, I will leave out the fine detail, but…

I experienced my first prostate exam, because it is recommended to start doing so around the age of 45 if there is family history of prostate cancer.
*I am not 45, but I will be 44 in August

Like I said, I am not going to post in detail… I survived, and I have been given a GREEN (pass / nothing to be concerned about this year). My blood pressure was 126/86… and considering they took that reading just before my first prostate exam – I think that is pretty darn good.

I am not sleeping (again)… That is to say, for the past few nights I am averaging (at best) about 3 hours of sleep, and that is not in one solid block; so it kind of SUCKS. For some reason, despite the fragmented sleep cycles – I feel pretty good.

Right now, I am just wasting some time, waiting for an opportunity for continued conversation to present itself. Should I get LUCKY and have that opportunity, I shall seize it.

OH! For those of you with access to the Members Only area – I uploaded some new songs today.

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I finally got tired of the old lap-deskI had, which was semi-broken. The little piece that “holds” the thing in the slant position was broken… so when I tried to simply move the lap desk from lap to table (or table to lap) it would collapse, without warning and smash my fingers, causing me to curse out loud. So, after the most recent finger-smashing incident, I finally decided I’d had it with the thing, and bought a newer-and-much better version of the lap-desk. It arrived yesterday, and I am very happy with it.

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I was seated, on stage, facing out toward the empty auditorium. There was a long table on the floor below the stage, with five empty chairs. Then, one by one, teachers from my past walked in and sat down at the table. Some of them had notebooks, papers or binders.

I recognized each of them, some being teachers from my childhood, the others from my most recent attempt at furthering my education; more specifically the two that felt it necessary to give me failing grades based not on academics but seemingly on a personality conflict.

I then understood why I was there. It was like my ‘final exam’ day, only the exam was to be an oral exam where they fire questions at me and I have to respond appropriately.

They asked questions in a rapid-fire style. If I answered correctly, questions got progressively harder.

One of the teachers asked a question. While it was not hard, it was very complex. I wrote down notes in order to compose my answer in a way it would make sense. (This took some time to do.)

She then came up to the stage and took my notes and said sternly, “Answer the effing question.” In a semi-panic, I rambled as I struggled to recite whatever I had written down earlier: what actions I would take and why I would make these choices. The problem was, while I was trying to re-compose the answer as I had it written, I started to forget what the question was. So I panicked.

The instructor then said, “Just stop talking,” and then she said,
“I believe you are done here.”

I woke up before I could ask if that meant, “Done with testing… good job!” -or- “Done with testing, get out. You fail. Go home.”

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clicky to make the image larger

While I did not write this particular letter, it is not unlike something I would have done (in / somewhere around the fourth grade.)

When I saw this, it made me wonder…

How did this Heather may have replied… or rather, did she even acknowledge this young Aaron C. at all?

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Help me, my nose stinks. I have what I believe to be acute sinusitisis inflammation of the sinuses that occurs with an infection from a virus, bacteria, or fungus.. While I have not yet seen a doctor for my condition, I have experienced the symptoms enough times to know that is what it is. At first, it seemed like “just-a-cold”, and then I started coughing (almost non-stop)… which was followed by slight indication (starting last night) of a particular “odor” which I instantly recognized and related to sinus infection. It is a smell not unlike the one you might find if you left a wet towel in the corner for several days. That dank, sour smell that no matter where you go — you will not be able to get away from.

The smell is accompanied by irritation, not unlike the type that comes with the early onset of a sore throat, only it is in your nasal passage instead of your throat. And IF be able to endure the use of a Netti Pot.. but who really likes pouring water in one nostril and letting it flow out the other?, you may be able to relieve SOME of that irritation. I have tried to use one of these, but have never been very successful with them.

Acute Sinusitis generally will last four weeks, so I will have this lingering stink around for a while.

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