The next story I'll tell really makes me nervous. When I think about it, I definitely feel like throwing up. It was crazy. I knew this French photographer. He had a girlfriend, we'll call her Jane. His girlfriend Jane had a girlfriend we'll call Doe. Anyway, my friend, the French photographer decides he likes Doe, so what does he do? He has a torrid affair with Doe. Not only does he have an affair, but he invites her on the next photographic shoot on the other side of the world. Oh, yeah, I forgot to mention both Jane and Doe are models. Anyway, he takes Doe on a photographic shoot. The shoot goes well. He came back to NYC where he lives now and he had his assistant process all the film and put it in order for him to edit. (Back in the day, we used to shoot slide film. Usually, Kodachrome 64.) Anyway, after the film was put in order, he goes through the film the next day. He freaked out, on every single frame, every single slide, there was a perfect pinhole through the head of Doe. The whole job, the whole 2 weeks of shooting was ruined. Jane had stayed up all night and did a perfect pinhole through the head of Doe and carefully put the slide back into it's box, and put the box back in order. My friend, the French photographer screamed at Jane, "What have you done? You've ruined my whole job." Jane was sitting on the couch smoking a big joint. She took a hit, uncrossed her legs, put the joint out, picked up her suitcases and said, "Well, my love, you shouldn't have fucked my best friend." And she walked out. Now you see why I feel like throwing up. I learned a lot from my friends. What to do and what not to do. I learned not to fool around and don't, definitely don't fool around with your best friend's friend.
Hi everybody. Well, that was then, and this is now. I'm sitting here with traumatic brain injury thinking, man, this really sucks. I can totally see why people give up. It's like ongoing torture. But, you know what, I'm not going to give up. It's a good thing I had a background of being an athlete. Then thinking about my daughter keeps me going. You know, being a middle long distance competitive runner really has helped me. Not so much with the physical side, but the mental anguish. Mentally, it is tough. I would almost say it's like mental anguish or torture. Wait, are we talking about marriage or traumatic brain injury. Anyway, sorry, I got sidetracked there. The point is, don't give up. You'll make it. There are small victories every day. You just have to recognize them. Hell, just today, the county nurse came by and remarked how well my speech has gotten, and my eyes are getting better. My eye doctor called me yesterday and he wants to use my case as an example. He wants to put my case in a medical journal. He said it was really rare and exceptional. Is that good or bad? I don't know. Either way, if it helps somebody, I say, go ahead, publish it.
I guess you just gotta keep moving forward. At this point, it seems any doctor you talk to will just make their best educated guess. You just have to stay positive. That, and have a lot of good friends with support. I can't emphasize that enough.
I'm going to remind you and myself, I want to tell you about a few location confessions. You see, we used to use houses, apartments, lofts as a location. I did some things I'm not proud of. One story involves a female vibrator. Another story involves an obsessive compulsive woman and her house. Another story involves a man's loft and what's left of a beautiful stereo system. That's all for now. I hope you guys have a good week. And remember, don't take anything for granted. Cherish every small thing. Talk to you next week. Love, B. Nice
P.S. I'm going to give my friend here one of my journals from the day. Maybe she'll scan a few pages and share them with you.