Concussionfield
So ah.. yeah.
It's been, how many days now? Oh fuck it doesn't matter. I had a concussion! My very first (I'm pretty sure).
Thing is, it didn't even happen during anything zany. Bill and I were lying down on the bed, being kids in love on a totally G-rated level because all we were doing was cycling through being mean and nice to each other. He sat up for whatever reason, and on his way down, I sat up, for whatever reason and CRACK! Our heads collided hard enough for each of us to just sit there for a few moments with our heads in our hands.
All I could hear for those several seconds were my and then our breaths, which were slow. Then, when I could manage, I whispered "that... fucking hurt so bad," and immediately started giggling lightly, and then heavily. Then I was laughing uncontrollably.
Bill was also giggling from how ridiculous what just happened was, but was curious about why I was laughing so hysterically.
Well, so was I. And before I could even navigate my emotional atmosphere to find and capture whatever it was that was so funny in my head, my eyes started welling up with tears. No. They didn't even well up. Streams of tears poured out of my eyes, the pillow got wet, Bill grabbed my face and started gently begging for what was wrong... it was surreal.
We ended up in the kitchen somehow. I don't really remember. I was laughing again. I was laughing so hard I could barely stand up.
And then I was crying again. Really hard.
I was bewildered by what was going on, myself, and knew that Bill had to be as well. So I kept apologizing profusely throughout most of this, which you just have to picture for comedic effect.
Because of the severity of the bonk, if I may call it that, and the fact that I immediately wanted to take a nap, Bill suspected that I had a concussion. Thanks to the internet, we were able to conclude that I was experiencing symptoms of a mild concussion.
It was actually kind of funny because I was the first to get to the computer, and it took my realizing that I was having trouble following lines of text and then stringing their corresponding concepts together in my mind to realize that I may not be the best person to be researching concussions at the moment, having been recently concussed and all.
Then mom came home and checked my eyes. She shook her head and told me she thought I was going to say it happened while Bill and I were having sex (which makes me wonder exactly how deteriorated her memory of sex must be). She asked how Bill was affected. Not four words into the description, she cringed sympathetically. Yeah. Poor Bill! I get called a wanton hussy, but poor adopted son Billy gets sympathy.
What was remarkable was the first-hand experience of at least two basic concepts taught in, well, almost every Psychology course I'd ever taken:
(1) Behaviourism. The social construction of fears, tears, and the interplay between the two, specifically. I used to think it was more close to preposterous than realistic, the idea that you were afraid or sad because you were crying rather than crying because you were afraid or sad (or that you were happy because you were laughing rather than laughing because you were happy). Well my friend, I only experienced the emotions corresponding to the specified behaviours after the laughter was in the air or the tears were on the floor.
(2) Speedier Rerouting of Neural Pathways After an Injury. That bump on my head was a harder blow than anything I've felt in years. Possibly even a decade. Now, I'm no rodeoin' Evil Knievel on a rocket-powered skateboard, but I've sprained many an ankle, my friends. I've had the wind knocked clear out of my body. I've had a few nasty tears/cuts in the ol' skin. Okay I'm not hitting it home, but the point is, I've experienced PAIN, maaan. Like this kid. After moments, the pain from the collision was gone. Gone! And that shit was hard! If that was my knee, I'd have been bitching all day.
Anyway. That kind of messed up the weekend a bit. We did... close to nothing. Bill and I spent the entire day indoors yesterday, mostly in the kitchen. Bill made soup for the first time. He was excited. It was adorable. I think we ended up calling it "Extreme Bean" since it had like 18 kinds of beans and various vegetables. I made bread and a cake: organic whole wheat parmesan & herb and banana, respectively.
Today, Sunday, we ended up seeing a movie with Lech. Cloverfield. I liked it. It was like... The Blair Witch Project, if the Blair Witch was a gigantic mutant with gigantic mutated parasite lice, and Burkittsville, MD was actually Manhattan.
It had this whole viral video backing to it, which I assume helped the movie's popularity a lot. Due to the nature of the filming, itself, it'd be wise to have separate quasi-sequels, too (I never say that--but I think if you've seen the movie, you'll understand what I mean when I say it's likely that tons of other characters might have taken footage of the same catastrophic event, creating a wealth of quality cinematic possibilities).
It wasn't amazing, but it was pretty damn good for its genre.
Oh, and everyone in the movie was relatively hot (it was New York City...), except the guy who wasn't always in the movie but for his voice. But that dude was a funny motherfucker (I'd say you should see it just for his character, named Hud). He had what we call a face for radio.
It's been, how many days now? Oh fuck it doesn't matter. I had a concussion! My very first (I'm pretty sure).
Thing is, it didn't even happen during anything zany. Bill and I were lying down on the bed, being kids in love on a totally G-rated level because all we were doing was cycling through being mean and nice to each other. He sat up for whatever reason, and on his way down, I sat up, for whatever reason and CRACK! Our heads collided hard enough for each of us to just sit there for a few moments with our heads in our hands.
All I could hear for those several seconds were my and then our breaths, which were slow. Then, when I could manage, I whispered "that... fucking hurt so bad," and immediately started giggling lightly, and then heavily. Then I was laughing uncontrollably.
Bill was also giggling from how ridiculous what just happened was, but was curious about why I was laughing so hysterically.
Well, so was I. And before I could even navigate my emotional atmosphere to find and capture whatever it was that was so funny in my head, my eyes started welling up with tears. No. They didn't even well up. Streams of tears poured out of my eyes, the pillow got wet, Bill grabbed my face and started gently begging for what was wrong... it was surreal.
We ended up in the kitchen somehow. I don't really remember. I was laughing again. I was laughing so hard I could barely stand up.
And then I was crying again. Really hard.
I was bewildered by what was going on, myself, and knew that Bill had to be as well. So I kept apologizing profusely throughout most of this, which you just have to picture for comedic effect.
Because of the severity of the bonk, if I may call it that, and the fact that I immediately wanted to take a nap, Bill suspected that I had a concussion. Thanks to the internet, we were able to conclude that I was experiencing symptoms of a mild concussion.
It was actually kind of funny because I was the first to get to the computer, and it took my realizing that I was having trouble following lines of text and then stringing their corresponding concepts together in my mind to realize that I may not be the best person to be researching concussions at the moment, having been recently concussed and all.
Then mom came home and checked my eyes. She shook her head and told me she thought I was going to say it happened while Bill and I were having sex (which makes me wonder exactly how deteriorated her memory of sex must be). She asked how Bill was affected. Not four words into the description, she cringed sympathetically. Yeah. Poor Bill! I get called a wanton hussy, but poor adopted son Billy gets sympathy.
What was remarkable was the first-hand experience of at least two basic concepts taught in, well, almost every Psychology course I'd ever taken:
(1) Behaviourism. The social construction of fears, tears, and the interplay between the two, specifically. I used to think it was more close to preposterous than realistic, the idea that you were afraid or sad because you were crying rather than crying because you were afraid or sad (or that you were happy because you were laughing rather than laughing because you were happy). Well my friend, I only experienced the emotions corresponding to the specified behaviours after the laughter was in the air or the tears were on the floor.
(2) Speedier Rerouting of Neural Pathways After an Injury. That bump on my head was a harder blow than anything I've felt in years. Possibly even a decade. Now, I'm no rodeoin' Evil Knievel on a rocket-powered skateboard, but I've sprained many an ankle, my friends. I've had the wind knocked clear out of my body. I've had a few nasty tears/cuts in the ol' skin. Okay I'm not hitting it home, but the point is, I've experienced PAIN, maaan. Like this kid. After moments, the pain from the collision was gone. Gone! And that shit was hard! If that was my knee, I'd have been bitching all day.
Anyway. That kind of messed up the weekend a bit. We did... close to nothing. Bill and I spent the entire day indoors yesterday, mostly in the kitchen. Bill made soup for the first time. He was excited. It was adorable. I think we ended up calling it "Extreme Bean" since it had like 18 kinds of beans and various vegetables. I made bread and a cake: organic whole wheat parmesan & herb and banana, respectively.
Today, Sunday, we ended up seeing a movie with Lech. Cloverfield. I liked it. It was like... The Blair Witch Project, if the Blair Witch was a gigantic mutant with gigantic mutated parasite lice, and Burkittsville, MD was actually Manhattan.
It had this whole viral video backing to it, which I assume helped the movie's popularity a lot. Due to the nature of the filming, itself, it'd be wise to have separate quasi-sequels, too (I never say that--but I think if you've seen the movie, you'll understand what I mean when I say it's likely that tons of other characters might have taken footage of the same catastrophic event, creating a wealth of quality cinematic possibilities).
It wasn't amazing, but it was pretty damn good for its genre.
Oh, and everyone in the movie was relatively hot (it was New York City...), except the guy who wasn't always in the movie but for his voice. But that dude was a funny motherfucker (I'd say you should see it just for his character, named Hud). He had what we call a face for radio.