Two glasses of root beer later, and I can feel it rumbling in my stomach. I am sitting in Pizza Hut with a couple friends, and I ordered greasy pizza and cheese sticks. Root beer, pizza, and cheese sticks, what was I thinking? At this point in time, I was just learning my new boundaries on certain foods and liquids that I am able to ingest. On top of heartburn causes 1, 2, and 3, my stomach was empty, nothing in there to soak up the acid, grease, and carbonation. So here I am, drinking this once delicious root beer when it hit me. I can't drink soda on an empty stomach, I can't follow that soda up with something even more acidic then the soda, then I ingested the cheese sticks, which are soaked in grease. I can not believe that I just ordered all of this food, and now I have no appetite to eat it, I feel more like going outside and puking the soda up and then just eating a slice of bread or two to soak the acid up. Which is quickly making it's way up my stomach lining and into my esophagus.
So I give eating a shot, to see if I can stomach anything. The cheese sticks don't look as greasy as the pizza, so maybe I can get a couple of those down and try to soak all of this acid up. The first one goes down slowly, but my taste buds still seemed to enjoy the cheese stick, so I grabbed a second one. By the time I bit into the second one the pain became so sharp and blunt that there was no more eating now. No more avoiding the fact, there was acid burning through the lining in my stomach, feeling like a volcano had just erupted in my stomach and the lava is settling wherever it lands.
The acid is burning its way through my stomach and there are not many ways to relieve the pressure. I try Tums, this antacid is too weak. Then I chug some Pepto Bismol, but my stomach is still burning up. So I pulled out the big guns, the Zantac 150, now this was the one that had been working near every time. There are still those common cases where I can't relieve my heartburn with simple over the counter antacids. The last trick that I have up my sleeve to fight off the everlasting heartburn, that trick is warm water and salt, lots of salt. Now with the delicious, warm salt water, one of two things will happen when I ingest this. Number one being I stir it up and chug it real quick, and manage to keep it down. Number two being my stomach can't take any more stress and a purging is inevitable.
It is now 4 am and I need sleep, no matter what else is wrong, I just want and need to sleep. Have you ever tried to lay down with an active volcano in your stomach? In fact laying down is like turning the volcano on it's side and allows for easy entrance for the acid to work it's way north towards a way out. This is a regular thing now, eating food that I shouldn't be eating, and staying up late because my body won't let me. I climb out of my chair and stumble my way towards the bathroom. I get on my knees and begin to pray to Porcelana, the Goddess of Porcelain. I pray that she will allow me to confide in her and that she will relieve my pressure with a blur of purging.
I am unable to look at Pizza Hut the same way, along with most other fast foods because this is a horrible sensation that is a guarantee if I drink soda on an empty stomach, or eat greasy food to many times in just a few short days. I do my best now to avoid consuming heartburn in a jar, or in the shape of a triangle, but through many experiences like this particular one, I have developed the ability to look at food and determine up front, if its heartburn or no heartburn. It is at this point in time, after I decide if the food is safe to eat, whether my taste buds will actually enjoy the food. What doesn't kill me, will make me stronger, so my tolerance for the regular pain has gone up due to dealing with heartburn on a weekly, sometimes daily basis. So the battle will rage on underneath my ribs, what will bend, and what will break?
Friday, February 26, 2010
Friday, February 12, 2010
Intro #1
Intro #1
Two glasses of root beer later, and I can feel it rumbling in my stomach. I am sitting in Pizza Hut with a couple friends, and I ordered greasy pizza and cheese sticks. Root beer(1), pizza(2), and cheese sticks(3), what was I thinking? At this point in time, I was just learning my new boundaries on certain foods and liquids that I am able to ingest. On top of heartburn causes 1, 2, and 3, my stomach was empty, nothing in there to soak up the acid, grease, and carbonation. So here I am, drinking this once delicious root beer when it hit me. I can't drink soda on an empty stomach, I can't follow that soda up with something even more acidic then the soda, then I ingested the cheese sticks, which are soaked in grease. I can not believe that I just ordered all of this food, and now I have no appetite to eat it, I feel more like going outside and puking the soda up and then just eating a slice of bread or two to soak the acid up. Which is quickly making it's way up my stomach lining and into my esophagus.
Two glasses of root beer later, and I can feel it rumbling in my stomach. I am sitting in Pizza Hut with a couple friends, and I ordered greasy pizza and cheese sticks. Root beer(1), pizza(2), and cheese sticks(3), what was I thinking? At this point in time, I was just learning my new boundaries on certain foods and liquids that I am able to ingest. On top of heartburn causes 1, 2, and 3, my stomach was empty, nothing in there to soak up the acid, grease, and carbonation. So here I am, drinking this once delicious root beer when it hit me. I can't drink soda on an empty stomach, I can't follow that soda up with something even more acidic then the soda, then I ingested the cheese sticks, which are soaked in grease. I can not believe that I just ordered all of this food, and now I have no appetite to eat it, I feel more like going outside and puking the soda up and then just eating a slice of bread or two to soak the acid up. Which is quickly making it's way up my stomach lining and into my esophagus.
Reaction
Graf #8
This person truly has fallen in, and out of love. They have a strong grasp on what falling out of love really means, therefore, they must have had the same feelings that I, myself have felt just like this. Fear, Dishonesty, and Selfishness are the three main reasons why I would say falling out of love just sort of happens. Fear: fear that I would be alone. Dishonesty: Not being able to say how we feel when we feel it, it is hard to recall feelings and emotions when one tries to do so later then when an emotional event happens. Selfishness: Love is not selfish, therefore, when one begins to become selfish once again, this is an underlying problem that they are falling out of love. I can not explain the intricate process of love and not love any better then this paper. Well done.
This person truly has fallen in, and out of love. They have a strong grasp on what falling out of love really means, therefore, they must have had the same feelings that I, myself have felt just like this. Fear, Dishonesty, and Selfishness are the three main reasons why I would say falling out of love just sort of happens. Fear: fear that I would be alone. Dishonesty: Not being able to say how we feel when we feel it, it is hard to recall feelings and emotions when one tries to do so later then when an emotional event happens. Selfishness: Love is not selfish, therefore, when one begins to become selfish once again, this is an underlying problem that they are falling out of love. I can not explain the intricate process of love and not love any better then this paper. Well done.
Saturday, February 6, 2010
Rude B****
The beginning: I thought it was quite humorous that you chose job corp as your example, the first one that came to my mind was also from job corp....
Miranda and I walk in the side door of the job corps rec building, I look to my right there are a bunch of scruffy misfits all playing pool or running around the pool hall. What a mess this place was, but after all it is the rec building. I head towards the gym, there is an intramural game going on, the yellow team vs. the black team. I lace up and change into my gym clothes, then the rest of my team arrives and follows my lead.
The middle: It was 9:00 pm now, and the intramural game was coming to an end. My team was all laced up and ready to play when I hear a faint voice on the sidelines, “Kris come here quick!” Miranda blurted out. I jog over to her and ask “What babe?” “You can't play here, they are calling the cops. I don't believe her at first, then I see this women who appears as if she was just smelling bad cheese. I jog over to her and ask her why we can not play against her students. “Because your not cleared with security!” She snapped out at me. “I understand this, we can give our identification and get clearance if that is acceptable, we just came here to play basketball.” I tried to reason with her, but she clearly was nearing the end of her shift. When a selfish individual is on salary, why would they want to stay late so kids can play some late night basketball rather then go out and find some trouble to get into? I answered my own question, “a selfish individual.”
The end: The selfish lady does not like me questioning her “authority” so she calls the security guard over to assist in having us leave. This was the final straw, we had been invited to this facility by the students, to do something active and productive for the kids that attend the school and I was being escorted out by security? I felt disrespected, mistreated, and quite frankly, I was pissed off. The bean pole of a security guard walks towards me, I immediately alert him that he has no authority, and I do not need an escort because WE ARE leaving. If they did not want us there, that was fine, but the manner in which they were doing it was just wrong. Calling the cops on my team was wrong, we were not doing anything other then trespassing on a basketball court. We were not criminals coming there to rob them of every cent they had in this world, we were there to exercise, play basketball, and have some good old fashioned fun.
Miranda and I walk in the side door of the job corps rec building, I look to my right there are a bunch of scruffy misfits all playing pool or running around the pool hall. What a mess this place was, but after all it is the rec building. I head towards the gym, there is an intramural game going on, the yellow team vs. the black team. I lace up and change into my gym clothes, then the rest of my team arrives and follows my lead.
The middle: It was 9:00 pm now, and the intramural game was coming to an end. My team was all laced up and ready to play when I hear a faint voice on the sidelines, “Kris come here quick!” Miranda blurted out. I jog over to her and ask “What babe?” “You can't play here, they are calling the cops. I don't believe her at first, then I see this women who appears as if she was just smelling bad cheese. I jog over to her and ask her why we can not play against her students. “Because your not cleared with security!” She snapped out at me. “I understand this, we can give our identification and get clearance if that is acceptable, we just came here to play basketball.” I tried to reason with her, but she clearly was nearing the end of her shift. When a selfish individual is on salary, why would they want to stay late so kids can play some late night basketball rather then go out and find some trouble to get into? I answered my own question, “a selfish individual.”
The end: The selfish lady does not like me questioning her “authority” so she calls the security guard over to assist in having us leave. This was the final straw, we had been invited to this facility by the students, to do something active and productive for the kids that attend the school and I was being escorted out by security? I felt disrespected, mistreated, and quite frankly, I was pissed off. The bean pole of a security guard walks towards me, I immediately alert him that he has no authority, and I do not need an escort because WE ARE leaving. If they did not want us there, that was fine, but the manner in which they were doing it was just wrong. Calling the cops on my team was wrong, we were not doing anything other then trespassing on a basketball court. We were not criminals coming there to rob them of every cent they had in this world, we were there to exercise, play basketball, and have some good old fashioned fun.
Thursday, February 4, 2010
Target Practice
Object
“The grass was real high this morning,” I thought to my self, “Dad is gonna flip out on that jackass again. How does he get away with being so lazy? Aren't older brothers supposed to be there to teach lessons, the only lesson I learned from Jeff was how piss off my dad. I can't slip up like him, if I didn't scoop up the land mines, Dad would throw me behind enemy lines with a shovel and tell me to fight my way out.” So I do my chores, then I climb up the giant tree to the tiny house where stockpile of acorns is being stored.
I see my first few victims, they are quite close, I shoot the test shot way up into the air, until I can longer see it. The slingshot passed the pre-firing test, and I was ready for target practice. The targets were so convenient, they had large black and white blotches all over their enormous bodies. These markings made for good targets when I had an audience and when I was feeling supernatural. I must have shot 30 or so targets before they finally caught on to my actions. I nailed all the targets within the range of my sniper tower, but my weapon did not have the range that was needed to hit the remaining targets.
I was determined to finish my target practice with a solid and resolute ending. I snuck my way out of the tree, to avoid being seen by the targets. I hopped the fence, and hit the ground running for a better spot, with cover. I get close enough to the first of my last targets, nailed it. Make my way around the creek for the next target, I have been seen, I rapid fire hard acorns out of my slingshot to ensure thorough accomplishment. The last few targets were quite far away from my house, so I decided to end target practice with this final strike of the day.
What did my parents expect I was going to do with my brand new sling shot? Walk around with it and only pretend to shoot at things? Use feathers as ammo? I do not know what crossed their minds when purchasing this present, but I was so glad the day they brought it home and gave it to me. It was the first time I thanked them for living in the middle of a dairy farm. The only way I knew how to thank them was to go out and shoot the closest, easiest, most amusing targets to shoot at, dairy cows.
“The grass was real high this morning,” I thought to my self, “Dad is gonna flip out on that jackass again. How does he get away with being so lazy? Aren't older brothers supposed to be there to teach lessons, the only lesson I learned from Jeff was how piss off my dad. I can't slip up like him, if I didn't scoop up the land mines, Dad would throw me behind enemy lines with a shovel and tell me to fight my way out.” So I do my chores, then I climb up the giant tree to the tiny house where stockpile of acorns is being stored.
I see my first few victims, they are quite close, I shoot the test shot way up into the air, until I can longer see it. The slingshot passed the pre-firing test, and I was ready for target practice. The targets were so convenient, they had large black and white blotches all over their enormous bodies. These markings made for good targets when I had an audience and when I was feeling supernatural. I must have shot 30 or so targets before they finally caught on to my actions. I nailed all the targets within the range of my sniper tower, but my weapon did not have the range that was needed to hit the remaining targets.
I was determined to finish my target practice with a solid and resolute ending. I snuck my way out of the tree, to avoid being seen by the targets. I hopped the fence, and hit the ground running for a better spot, with cover. I get close enough to the first of my last targets, nailed it. Make my way around the creek for the next target, I have been seen, I rapid fire hard acorns out of my slingshot to ensure thorough accomplishment. The last few targets were quite far away from my house, so I decided to end target practice with this final strike of the day.
What did my parents expect I was going to do with my brand new sling shot? Walk around with it and only pretend to shoot at things? Use feathers as ammo? I do not know what crossed their minds when purchasing this present, but I was so glad the day they brought it home and gave it to me. It was the first time I thanked them for living in the middle of a dairy farm. The only way I knew how to thank them was to go out and shoot the closest, easiest, most amusing targets to shoot at, dairy cows.
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