(My friend the doctor swears this actually happened to his patient.)

A man of late years was admitted to the emergency room with pain in his leg. They hooked him up to a few machines to check his vital signs, and noticed that his oxygen saturations were in the low 70s.

That’s like breathing nothing. That’s like being, well… DEAD.

But he was sitting up and talking to the nurses. All of his other vital signs were in normal ranges and he didn’t exhibit any signs of difficulty breathing. The staff panicked when they saw that number on the monitor, though, and scrambled to put the man on supplementary oxygen.

With the tubing placed and the oxygen flowing, the man’s oxygen saturations jumped up to a normal range in the mid-90s. And then all the rest of his vitals started going crazy. His heart rate went up. His blood pressure made a jump. And he was coughing and struggling to breathe… until they took the oxygen off him, and his sats dropped back into the 70s and all other vitals returned to normal.

HUH?

It emerged that the patient, a cigarette smoker of many packs per day for fifty years, had all the classic lung damage you’d expect. But he didn’t have emphysema or lung cancer. His crappy lungs had adapted themselves so well to the ever-increasing damage over the years that they were able to function in a less-than-optimal state and still sustain life.

That’s some crazy shit. But that’s evolution at its finest.

I bring this up because of that whole detox thing I’m interested in. Last week, before I was able to see my doctor about the herbal system, I decided it couldn’t hurt to start drinking more water and eating better beforehand. So I committed myself to 64 ounces of water per day, no more fried foods or candy, and no more soda.

Take a wild guess at what happened.

Not only did I have the major caffeine withdrawal (I expected that, of course), I had more stomach upsets and sleeplessness without fried food or caffeine. I actually felt DEHYDRATED from drinking that much water – my skin and lips were painfully dry. Every time I’d have a salad for lunch, even with dressing and some chicken on it, my blood sugar would drop in the early afternoon and I’d have to slug a bottle of orange juice just to get enough natural sugars in me to function the rest of the day at work.

Then on top of that, I got a cold. And I just couldn’t take the stomach aches AND the sniffles.

So I’m back on Diet Dr. Pepper and McChickens and peanut butter cups for now because my body simply cannot handle the cold-turkey quit of everything crappy that I’ve fed it. It just straight up REBELLED when I tried to cut out fried and over-processed foods and replace them with greens and fruit! The caffeine withdrawal I was expecting, that’s normal… but what about the rest of it?

Can you have a physiological addiction to grease and sodium like you can nicotine? I really want to know.

The doctor said the herbal thing is fine, so the new plan is to sloooowly cut out those foods over the next two weeks or so, and then do the detox system.

Besides, it would be pointless to start a diet before the Super Bowl parties anyway, right? Beer, nachos, beer, pizza, beer, little hot dogs in BBQ sauce in a Crock Pot, beer…

What’s your addiction? Have you ever tried to quit?

Blog, blog, high school, high school… we all seem to agree that there are a lot of things about the blogging community that tend to run parallel with the social hierarchy of high schools. I noted some things about that in an earlier post, but something struck me today about bullying in the blogosphere…

In real high school? Bullying could be a big problem. A serious problem that could lead to violence and even self-inflicted harm on the part of the victim. It was often met with a code of silence around the victims and helplessness from the staff who either couldn’t do something until there was a “real” problem, or brushed it off as kids being kids. Even friends and parents would say “just ignore him/her.” Often, no one would stand up for you. There were even rules in place that worked against a victim who tried to defend him/herself from a physical attack.

So bullies got away with it. They picked on people and made personal verbal attacks, which usually hurt more than any shove up against the lockers and demand for lunch money.

And sometimes there was no lunch money to give them. Sometimes you couldn’t just get up out of your desk and walk away. Sometimes you couldn’t just ignore it, so you suffered in silence and felt very, very alone.

This is where we, as a blogging community, diverge from high school.

We all write our own way and express our own opinions, and as bloggers we hold our freedom of speech and press near and dear. But we have standards in our communities, and those include respect for people and feelings as well as for opinions.

There was some buzz today about one blogger who allegedly (and I only say this because the posts are gone so I couldn’t check) posted a personal attack on another blogger, regarding the quality of her blog and its worthiness of an award she recently received. This was done in a public forum.

Other members of the blogging community came to this young woman’s defense. Whether she needed them or not, people made it clear to her – and to the person who was offending her – that she was not alone. Similar scenarios play out across the blog world every single day and prove over and over again that we stick to our principles and we have got each other’s backs against bullies and trolls.

Of course we return to free speech and our rights to express opinions. But in a public forum, especially a community forum, if you cross the line into personal attacks, do not be surprised when you start to hear from people you’ve never met or even heard of, calling you out for your treatment of another community member.

YOU will feel just how much words can hurt.

If you genuinely meant no harm and just really screwed up your wording on something and it ended up looking offensive, just make your apology and explanation. Everyone gets heated once in awhile and writes something that just comes out wrong. That’s okay. I’ve accidentally offended people through careless wording before. When genuine apologies are made and accepted, and we move on.

But you don’t accidentally tell someone their writing is pointless or that they do not deserve to be recognized for their work. And you especially do not do that on that person’s own blog or the public forum of a community to which that person belongs.

Although these things continue to happen and probably always will, I just wanted to put it out there that this is an area in which the 20-Something Bloggers community can really shine. The only people who should not be welcome (in MY opinion only) are those who make personal attacks on others, and good riddance to them if they are driven off by people who are trying to defend not only a person, but the integrity of a community.

Groups of friends and lunch tables, I see that parallel. And I think it’s a natural one. But in this aspect, it’s not high school. Bullies don’t get away with it here.

We will take care of our own.

—

(Huh. Maybe we’re actually more like a gang? Can we wear green? The 20SB website has a lot of green…)

All the lunch-table chatter about 20SB reminded me last night – I graduated from high school in 1999. I should have had a reunion by now.

WTF?! Who didn’t invite me to my own freaking  high school reunion?

I scrounged around Facebook this morning and realized that plans had never materialized for the reunion, so the class president is going to make us oh-so-cutting-edge and have an 11 year reunion for us sometime in 2010. We are SO the wave of the future.

Then, inevitably, I got back to thinking about lunch tables.

Ten and a half years ago, I was going to a pretty good-sized high school. There were about 450 people in my graduating class, and seriously – you never ate alone unless you chose to. Everyone had a lunch table. There were groups in that school, TONS of groups because there were so many of us. Everyone couldn’t be everywhere and do everything, so our natural alignments were driven by our priorities.

I was kind of middle-of-the-road, socially. I was in band and theater and so that’s where I had most of my friends. The “popular” girls were nice to me in class but we didn’t hang out or anything. They were the ones on homecoming court, student council, cheerleading, dance team, all that. But you know – those things were their priorities. I wanted to play piano. They wanted to flip about and scream really loudly at sporting events. I wanted to write a play. They wanted to play on the state-champion softball team.

A lot of those girls were truly nice people, and they didn’t dislike me – we just had our sights set on different things. I had my friends and they had theirs. Theirs ended up on homecoming court because their priority was to get them there. My friends were elected theater club and band officers and made choices on plays and performances.

I used to really want to be the tiger mascot that hopped around with the cheerleaders. I could have done it. I was energetic and you didn’t have to do a backflip in the silly costume. I was afraid that trying out would mean I wanted to be like them – and I didn’t, I really just thought it would be fun. I was at all the games with the band anyway, so why not? But I didn’t get it – not because I lost in tryouts, but because I didn’t try out at all. I didn’t make it enough of a priority to get over my fear of rejection.

I said as much to one of the nice cheerleaders who had honors English with me senior year and she said “Oh, you should have done it! You’d have been great! The girl they picked wasn’t that good, you should have at least tried out.”

Um. Oops. *mwaah mwaah mwaaaaaaah….*

It didn’t break my heart to think I had missed out on being friends with the popular girls, but it was a lesson in getting off my ass and at least trying a little harder for things I say I want.

I never sat at their lunch table. I sat with my music and theater friends. And together with a number of the cheerleaders, the dancers, and the sports stars, I got into National Honor Society, scooped up scholarships, graduated in the top 10% of my class, and went on with life somewhere else.

With 9,000 people in a community like 20SB, we can’t all be friends with everybody. We just don’t have the time. But the ones who are most visible in the community, our dancers and cheerleaders and sports stars, may shine the brightest because their priorities are those of the 20SB community. Online presence. Great communication. Reaching out and building bonds. Striving to be better writers, vloggers, techies.

When these things become your priorities in life, you can make your way to the top in a community like this.

Me? I’m not at the top. If I realigned my priorities I probably could be. I used to put more time into my blog, I used to be more visible and active in the blogging community both online and off. But as I’ve evaluated my life, I have determined that maybe I needed to step away from the glowing screen a little more. It works for me this way. This is my balance. I have blog friends who I adore, blogs by writers I don’t know but I still read, and a little bitty stake in a 20SB and Guidespot. I could do more. And I will, if I can make it fit in the balance I need in my life.

One of the popular cheerleaders quit the squad her senior year. She could have gotten a cheer scholarship. “It wasn’t for me,” she shrugged, and went on to run track instead.

Evaluate yourself. Think about why you write what you write, and where blogging fits in the priorities in your life. Are you committed to becoming a better writer? Are you committed to spending a lot of time developing communities and planning activities with people you may have never met? If you’re not – IT’S OKAY. For some people, that kind of life works and works awesomely. For you it may not. And if that means you don’t get an award, just realize – THAT’S OKAY TOO.

Are you committed to these things, committed to getting to the top and yet still feeling overlooked? This can take awhile. You don’t learn backflips and roundoffs with a full twist overnight. You must keep on.

You still have your lunch table. People still like you for who you are. And if they vote in someone else for homecoming queen, that doesn’t mean they like you any less. It’s just that they thought that in terms of real-time committment to excellence in the blogging world, they thought that someone else deserved it more.

My class homecoming queen was smart, pretty, fun, sweet, an athlete, a class council member, and active in her church. She was a busy girl who was committed to being awesome and to my knowledge never said a mean -spirited thing to anyone who hadn’t tried to grab her boobs or ass in the hall. Because she was involved in everything, everyone knew her and everyone was aware of all of her good qualities.

When you are visible, you are nominated. When you are visible and you demonstrate awesome, you win. Period. Everyone voted for Kristen, she won, and she deserved it.

Pour yourself a glass of flat champagne, put on your bent party hat, and think about this before you get mad or defensive about an award, a nomination or a lack thereof.

“Honey? Where’s the other present your mom sent me? You said there were two.”

“Yours are the ones with the red ribbons.”

I dig in the box. I opened one gift yesterday, so there should be another red ribbon somewhere. Instead, I find an unwrapped set of very cute pajamas.

“Did you open my present?”

“No, why?”

“Cause I don’t think these size small PJs are for you, and they’re opened right here by your t-shirts.”

“I didn’t open anything of mine. What t-shirts?”

I hold up the Life is Good shirts with a cyclist and a football player. E grabs his hair and curses under his breath and I know who did it. It’s the person whose presents aren’t even in that box.

It’s been a stressful two weeks dealing with my boyfriend’s older brother. Bro moved into E’s place this summer after he couldn’t pay his bills anymore. He was fired because he refused to conform to a simple rule, but he wouldn’t let The Man tell him what to do. Nor would he sign up for unemployment, because that’s for losers. Noble. So he took over half of E’s one-bedroom apartment and has been living on a waiter’s tips and a sense of entitlement.

He doesn’t even try.

It’s only gotten worse since he moved in, and these last few weeks we have been DESPERATE to get him out. But it’s a double-edged sword because E is thoroughly convinced that Bro is just going to make a financial mess of himself again and land on the doorstep some night, drunk and stoned, demanding to move back in. And E, with a deep resentment barely overridden by his sense of fraternal obligation, will let him. And they both know it.

But Bro has finally found an apartment and put down a deposit. He’s got the keys. I very kindly (read: pushily) provided him with a dozen of the sturdy boxes we use at The Hospital and told him that if he needed more, I’d hook him up. He packed five of them and has moved exactly one.

In the spirit of Christmas and the love I bear for my boyfriend, GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT.

Quit slacking and mooching off him. Don’t whine to us about how poor you are when we know you blow all your money on your vices, legal and otherwise. Quit leaving a mess everywhere. Open your own damn Christmas presents. Don’t eat the food we bought for ourselves. Stop turning the furnace up to 75 and not contributing to the gas bill. Quit waking us up in the morning because you want to talk about nothing. On that note, quit keeping us up at night because you’re drunk and want to talk and sing Miley Cyrus songs.

E and I sleep at my place a lot now because he just can’t stand being at his own apartment anymore. I love having him over, but that’s just stupid and wrong to feel pushed out of your own place like that. He is so stressed and angry and it hurts my heart to see him like this. It’s not that E hasn’t tried, both nicely and occasionally in anger, to wake Bro up to what he’s doing. But it’s all a joke to him. E wouldn’t REALLY throw him out, right? Ha ha ha!

We are ready to cut him.

My boyfriend and I work pretty much opposite schedules, which means it can be hard for us to find time to spend together, especially time we can spend with just each other and not the group of friends who also want to see him on his off time. Because he’s in the restaurant business, he goes into work in the late afternoon when I’m leaving my desk job, he’s coming home when I’m going to bed, and I’m leaving in the morning when he’s still snoring.

We both have off during the day on Saturday and Sunday (when he is asleep till noon) and on evenings Monday and Tuesday. It’s not a ton of time, and since we don’t live together we don’t even get to see each other for those five minutes that our paths cross during waking hours on the other days. And Monday nights are volleyball with a big group, and Sundays are football with friends, etc.

It sucks a bit.

But as much as I value the time I do get to spend with him, I no longer feel inclined to make that alone time into a big production. Yesterday is a good example:

E: What do you want to do tonight?
Me: Go to a movie?
E: There’s nothing to see.
Me: Dunno then, whatever, we could just chill.
E: No, we should Do Something.

And probably a dozen more times over the course of the evening that we spent doing nothing but watching TV, he repeated “we should go Do Something” even though we couldn’t think of anything to do.

I don’t care if we don’t Do Something every time we hang out. I like hanging out and watching TV with him, not leaving the house, not having deep, meaningful discussions, not spending a bunch of money. I like sitting on the couch and reading while he holds my feet at the other end and watches something I’m not interested in.

I can appreciate more that casual time is still important time and we don’t need to Do Something to make our limited time together into something meaningful. I think it’s sweet that he wants to do things for me and so on, but I’m tired of the push to make things into a production. Sometimes it makes me feel like we’re failing to make the best of our time, and that’s frustrating.

When we’ve been married for a zillion years, remind me of this post and I’ll long for the days when he wanted everything to be special bonding time. But for now…

Honey, can we just SIT DOWN for awhile? Just you and me? Let’s eat what’s already in the house and watch a movie one of us owns or something on TV. Let’s not do anything tonight.