A cleaner way to put soap on hands?

28 04 2010

We’ve become pretty germ obsessed here in the Ew-SA, and I’ve been seeing these ads for a touchless bathroom soap dispenser a lot lately. The scenario is that you’ve got icky germs on your hands that you are about to wash off with soap and water, but lo! while pumping the soap into your crummy hands, you transfer the ick to the soap pump. What are you to do?! Of course the answer lies in a touchless soap dispenser which does away with all that soap dispenser contamination we’re all so worried about.

My question is this: what exactly is on your hands that is dangerous when transferred to a soap pump, but will still wash off with soap and water? And if you do have something that bad on your hands, isn’t any kind of soap dispenser going to fail you utterly, thus killing your entire family?

And then of course there’s the issue of transferring germs to the sink handles, which means we all have to get sensor-activated sinks. Or just cut off our damn hands altogether. But then we’d have germy stumps! AAAAAHH!!@#%^

We’re all doomed. Everyone pray to Saint Lysol.





EFH2T: Life Labyrinthitis

29 01 2010

My latest post on Billy Corgan’s blog about holistic livin’:

Everything From Here To There » Blog Archive » Life Labyrinthitis.

Talks about the causes and effects of vertigo, of both physical and psychological origin.

(Posted a week late, but written during that badass rainstorm last week.)

Life Labyrinthitis

I just moved back to Los Angeles from Berlin a few days ago, and I’m experiencing what I call life vertigo: that swimmy, disoriented feeling we feel in response to a change of conditions like a big move, changing or losing a job, death of a loved one, divorce, or other drastic changes. Over the course of my move, my perception of time has been bizarre, I’ve acquired countless bruises from repeatedly walking into stationary objects, some simple everyday tasks are comically outsmarting me, and I can’t seem to keep more than one thought going in my head at a time. In spite of all this, I’ve managed to get a lot done in a few days, and am soldiering forth to establish my life again.

However, as I drove on the freeway today in what was probably the most incredible rainstorm I’ve ever seen in LA, I occasionally felt overwhelming pangs of panic in my chest. My heart felt like it was about to explode, and parts of my brain were screaming at each other that something horrible was happening. The rain was epic, but this feeling of panic was not precipitated (no pun intended) by any events in particular, or by a lack of bad weather driving experience, and so I felt that I was having an irrational physiological response to a sudden change of conditions, the rain and flooded streets, layered upon another rather large sudden change of conditions, moving across the world; my mental conduit for properly interpreting the changes in my environment was inflamed.

All of this got me thinking about the physiological causes of vertigo, like labyrinthitis, or inflammation of the inner ear. The name stuck out as a fantastic metaphor: we navigate through the labyrinth of life, feeling as if we know where we’re going only to find sometimes that we don’t recognize where we are and can’t see how we got there, and so we feel disoriented and panicked because we can’t tell which is the right direction. What I find really interesting about labyrinthitis is that the prolonged vertigo associated with it can directly cause anxiety, panic attacks and even depression because of the brain’s chronic misinterpretation of sensory input, i.e. perceiving physical danger where there is none.

A common treatment for labyritnthitis-related anxiety and depression is the same as clinical anxiety and depression, which is to prescribe anti-depressives. I’m not proposing this as a commentary on depression medication, but it seems a bit strange to treat depression resulting from a physiological condition the same as emotional depression, and I think that’s telling of our symptom-obsessed culture (and the industries that encourage it).

The problem with only addressing symptoms is that we sometimes don’t look deeply enough past the symptoms, whether emotional or physical, to see what is causing them in order to find a real solution, and can end up covering deep wounds with band-aids. That might mean treating the symptoms of chronic vertigo while the cause worsens, or in my case, it might mean treating the panic I felt on the freeway without addressing the deeper anxiety from moving across the world, or even more deeply, why that move provokes so much anxiety in the first place.

Generally, it’s been shown that people who feel that their condition is out of their control are less likely to improve than those who try to have some positive control, and it’s as true for life vertigo as it is for medical vertigo. A patient who doesn’t believe that they can be helped is no better off than a panicked driver who lets go of the steering wheel or a weary job hunter who doesn’t submit a resume; if we want to get through it, we have to try. For me, that meant looking past the panic, taking deep breaths and calming myself down so that I could navigate through the rain safely, keeping in mind that my body was overreacting due to deeper causes. And for all of us, it means not letting the overwhelming feelings from the changes in our lives take control of our perceptions so that we can navigate forward through the labyrinth of life, even when we’re not entirely sure which direction forward is.





Dreams: More trains and a flying Beetle

26 12 2009

I had another long, crazy ass train dream again last night. I was visiting my sister, back when she still lived in New York, and we were taking the subway all around the city–but the city was more like Paris than New York, including the subway system (very dark, and the trains were small). There wasn’t much to it except for getting from A to B with trains, and occasionally getting lost and having to read indecipherable transit maps. And there was particular emphasis on the number 6 train, which was coded pink on the map (so definitely not NYC).

Then at some point I became a bit lucid and started driving a flying VW Beetle. It was a murky greenish teal color. Then I got back on the trains. Then I was trying to find a gym to work out in temporarily (which I am in Berlin at the moment), but I didn’t have gym clothes so I was going through the lost and found, trying to decide if it would be too weird to use someone else’s gym shoes.

Again, I’m not sure about most dream interpretations… But a lot of them say that mundane things that are part of your normal life (ie, taking public transit) don’t mean as much as the process of using them. So whenever I dream about trains, it’s usually in this sort of chaotic context of not really having a destination as much as just having to change trains over and over. Metaphor…?

Dunno what the flying Beetle is about, but that was fun.





dreams: planes and trains

24 09 2009

i’ve had a lot of recurring dreams throughout my life, and recently the theme has been airplanes and trains. often regular hanging out kind of dreams will take place on either a plane or a train, or the dream could be about trouble catching the plane or train, or an interesting journey aboard either… the trains are more the subway, S/Ubahn variety than the Amtrak type.Airplane_vortex

some of them seem kind of easy to interpret, like stress over catching, and subsequently missing a train seems like a pretty obvious anxiety metaphor. some of them are a little less obvious, like the train that contained a spa with leather sofas, which then turned into a plane flying over a NY Giants game. the dreams frequently involve really improbable paths of travel, like from Greenland to Australia or something.

i used to dream about neck injuries and being shot at, so this is definitely an improvement. i’m not crazy about trains, but i do really love airplanes, so i don’t understand the combination psychologically aside from both being modes of transportation.








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