I'll continue on with Traumatic Brain Injury. You see, I keep saying it over and over, but therapy is so important. I just got OK from my out patient therapy to go back and get a touch up. It's kind of cool. I'll go back to physical therapy. They'll do an evaluation and update me. It's been since what? September I've been there. But it'll be cool though, seeing as I've made some improvement and they'll give me some new therapy to do. It's kind of an update. The other thing is, you know, I continue to do water therapy. It's so important. The other thing I realize, I was sitting at home and looking at all my therapy tools. They're all for a 5 year old. If you don't have the luxury of getting therapy, just use your 5 year old's toys. I work with blocks and sippy cups. Stuff like that. It kind of works out good 'cause I've had a few girlfriends that say I act like a 5 year old.
My friend here came over to my house to do the blog. It was a little earlier than we usually do it. I'm so tired. It's remarkable how tired one gets after lunch. Maybe it's a blood sugar thing. I don't know. Either way, it's really difficult to stay awake. Just an observation.
My friend here's going to put a link of my pitch for the trip. You know, it's really tough to see yourself as I am because, from the inside looking out, I don't feel like I'm disabled. It's kind of like when you get old. You know, you don't feel old, but you look in the mirror and you go "Holy Shit, I'm old." It's kind of the same thing. I don't feel disabled. I don't feel any different than I used to be, but man, I'm messed up. I've got a lot of work to do. I realize this when I see the video. Anyway, check it out.
Another time, I was working with another photographer. I was really drunk. I was trying to sneak in with one of the models. The only way to her room was the outside balcony. Well, I got outside, started shimmying my way to her room and I had to pass a window. Who was in there? The photographer and some other girl. I quickly went past them cause they were making out. I got to the other girl's room and she wouldn't let me in. I said, "At least let me in to go back to my room." She said, no way. Get out of here." So I made my way back to the room I was in. Once again I had to go past the photographer's window. Well, he was doing something with the girl I can't talk about, but it made me fall... I fell 2 stories into a snowbank. Thank god there was no fire hydrant or car in the snowbank.
OK, I'll tell one more story. I was out looking for work, cause I was a freelance assistant at the time. Anyway, I would often just show up looking for work. I was on my way to a photographer's studio, I got in an elevator and all of a sudden the door got held up by some one's hand. It was a bunch of girls and guys. they came into the elevator. I couldn't even fit hardly. We were packed in there like sardines. Anyway, on the way up to the studio, the photographer's studio, they all started stripping down to their swimwear they had under their clothes. By the end, I was well, well, I felt like I had been assaulted. Did you ever see Gary Busey's mug shot? Well, that's what I looked like. It looked like someone hit me over the head with a 2x4. Anyway, all the models went off to their casting in the studio. I wandered around the studio looking like a stunned mullet. Needless to say, they threw me out and I didn't get the job.
OK, I'm gonna tell one more story. It's about my assistant Peter. Well, way back in high school, Peter had a girlfriend. He would often go over to her house for dinner. Oh, yeah, the family had an African grey parrot. Anyway, he was there on Thursday and the father said, "I'm going on a vacation with your mother. There are to be no parties, no boys, no visitors. Just you behave yourself. I'll be leaving Friday night and coming back on Sunday afternoon." So, fast forward to Friday. The parents leave and Peter moved right in. He stays at the house until Sunday midday, and the parents came home at 3:00 on Sunday. Anyway, they were all having a snack in the afternoon and the father said, you know, to the daughter, "You know, you haven't' seen Peter all weekend, why don't you invite him over for dinner tonight." So Peter came over for diner and they were all sitting around the table. At the desert the parents said, "Peter," in the girl's voice, and the father said, "Well, listen to the bird. He said your name. You're one of the family now." And then the bird said, "Peter Peter oh yes right there Peter, oh my god." Well, I don't need to say anymore. Talk to you guys later. Oh yeah, I'm pretty sure that story peter told me is a wives tale, but knowing the guys I worked with, it could be true. Talk to you next week. Love, B. Nice