Five Traveling Tips for OCD Heads

Staying healthy while traveling has never been easy for an OCD case like me. When I traveled to New York in June, I pushed myself to the point where I was lying on the floor of the airport as I typed away, waiting for the flight home. My LA trip the month before ended pretty much the same way.

I don’t really sleep on these trips. There’s too much to do and see, too many interesting people to talk to. I work hard, but I always make time to catch up with friends and family in the city I’m visiting. Next week I fly to Las Vegas for the Black Hat and BSidesLV security conferences. I won’t get destroyed on the road as badly as I used to, because I’ve learned to follow these five steps:

Mood music:

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  • Don’t eat junk. This one is easier for me because I don’t eat flour and sugar. But it’s still a challenge because I’m not weighing my portions on the little scale like I do at home. That makes it easy to overeat. For the most part, I’ve been able to hold it together, and the better I do, the better I feel when I get home. When I used to junk it up on the road, I’d be useless the first three days at home.
  • Pack lightly. I used to try cramming most of my wardrobe into the suitcase, along with five books, boots, shoes and so on. I feared being caught far from home without enough shirts and socks. Now I keep it light because I can breeze through the airport and get on and off the plane more quickly. If I run low on pants, I’ll wear the same pair more than once. Many of you do this but won’t admit it. Shirts are a different story. Wearing the same shirt twice would be gross because you can’t hide the stench your armpits leave behind.
  • Wear sleepwear to the airport. I usually sleep in cut-off gym pants and a t-shirt. I wear them to the airport, too. That way I don’t waste time in the security line removing the belt, rings and bracelets. I keep the jewelry in the suitcase and avoid laced footwear, too. If you have business meetings straight from the airport, you can’t do this. That’s why I never, ever book meetings for the day I land.
  • Remember the music. The radio stations you get on the airplane almost always suck, so remember the iPod. For me, music is the required way of passing the time on a five-hour flight.
  • Use the first day to screw your head on straight. The first day in the city I’ve traveled to is not for business briefings and conference calls. I use the time to explore the city I’m in for a couple hours, then I go back to the hotel and look over the agenda for the coming days. At night I meet up with friends, family and business associates for dinner.

From there, I’m ready to work my ass off.

And when I get home, my recovery time is much faster than it used to be. With the busy family life I have, that’s pretty essential.

Suitcases

When Life Jerks You Around, Go To Au Bon Pain

Yesterday was one of those days that didn’t go according to plan. I took Duncan to Boston Children’s Hospital at Waltham to have his cast removed and wound up in Boston because of a scheduling glitch. Such things used to throw me into anxiety-fueled rages. Here’s what happened instead.

Mood music:

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I got back in the car and thumbed the Rosary hanging off the directional stick next to the steering wheel. I turned on my Android Spotify app, plugged it into the car stereo and blasted some Van Halen and Black Label Society. Then we drove to Boston.

Duncan got his cast removed. We had lunch at Au Bon Pain in the hospital and went home. No tantrums. No anxiety-fueled craziness over the damage to the workday and the fact that we had to go into Boston. Not too many years ago, driving in downtown Boston terrified me. All those one-way streets. The traffic, especially when the Red Sox play. I couldn’t handle it.

In more recent years — as was the case yesterday — I don’t freak out over these curve balls. They still piss me off, to be sure. But I can readjust and move on without incident. It’s a gift you can’t fully appreciate unless you’ve lived under the spell of fear, anger and anxiety.

Rewind to 23 years ago. It was registration day at North Shore Community College, where I was enrolled for the fall semester. I was just out of high school and angry at the world for a variety of reasons. I had been working long hours in my father’s warehouse in Saugus and was rubbed raw. I was frustrated because a girl I liked was getting cold feet about the idea of hooking up with a loose cannon like me. It didn’t take much to trigger a temper tantrum.

That day I was rattled hard by the long lines of college registration. I wasn’t expecting it and was full of fear that I wouldn’t get the classes I needed. Not that it really mattered, since my major was liberal arts.

Two hours in, I realized I had to give them a check for the courses I was taking. I had no money and panicked. They allowed me to drive to Saugus to get a check from my father. I was in full road rage mode on the drive there and back, riding up other people’s rear bumpers and keeping one foot on the break and one on the gas.

By day’s end, I was in supernova mode and breathing into a bag between the chain of cigarettes I was smoking.

That kind of rage was a daily thing for a time. And it always struck in moments when life didn’t go according to plan.

I’m glad I’m older and slower. I’m glad I found the tools to keep such things from happening: that renewed appreciation for rock ‘n’ roll, a little prayer and the brain-balancing effects of Prozac and Wellbutrin. It’s also summertime. My brain functions better this time of year.

I was able to put on a calm face for my son, and he was calm as a result. And despite the scheduling mess, the cast came off as planned.

Cast Removal

A Tale of Two C-Words

I’ve always hated the C-word. I’m from Revere, Mass., and I can cuss with the best of ’em. But that word has always crossed a line for me. I don’t even like it when someone throws it out there with the “see you next Tuesday” innuendo. I also hate the other C-word: cancer. This is a post about both.

Mood music:
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The latter C-word is the one everyone fears. I’ve known many cancer patients, especially those with breast cancer. I know a lot of women who beat it. I know people who are battling it right now, including a family member. And I’ve known women who put up a good fight but lost in the end.

I have a ton of respect for people who talk openly about their diseases. There’s my friend Penny Richards, who wrote a book about her experience called My Breast Cancer Sally. There’s my father-in-law’s mom, who suffers from Alzheimer’s disease today but beat uterine cancer decades ago. There’s an aunt who’s going through chemo right now.

And there’s Xeni Jardin, founding partner and co-editor of the award-winning blog Boing Boing. Jardin has been chronicling her cancer fight daily on as @xeni, and I’ve come to admire her for it.

Lately, some jackasses have been calling her names on Twitter, including that other C-word. It seems they don’t want to hear about every nasty detail of her breast cancer battle. Yesterday she called a few of them out, posting this:

Jardin Tweets

I don’t know what makes people like this spout off the way they do. Maybe they’re lonely, depressed and plagued by a variety of insecurities. Everyone has a story of pain that shapes the people they become.

Some tell their story with grace, unflinchingly sharing every embarrassing detail so that a few people might be educated in case they have to go through the same thing someday. That’s what my friend Penny did, and that’s what Jardin is doing now.

My aunt uses a lot of humor to share her experience on Facebook. She’s always been tough and strong, with a biting sense of humor. That’s what’s going to get her through this. And by sharing some of it online, a few people might learn something.

There’s courage in the face of adversity, as these women demonstrate. And then there are those assclowns who stare at adversity, get scared and try to make themselves feel better by tweeting obscenities at people who don’t deserve it.

In high school, I was bullied, and in turn, to make myself feel better, I bullied kids who were weaker than me. I’m still ashamed about that and have made amends with some of them. Experiencing bullying as the victim and abuser has given me a decent ability to spot weaklings. People who use Twitter to tear into other people are pretty fucking weak. I hope these guys see the light and become better people later on.

For now, I’ll just leave them with this message from Jardin:

Jardin's answer

Stay classy, folks.

Family Reading Time

In our house, a cool nightly ritual has taken hold. We all gather on my bed and read until the kids reach their bedtime and the grown-ups (me specifically) pass out.

Mood music:

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Here’s what I love about it:

  • We’re all together in one cozy spot.
  • The kids have their faces buried in books, which always makes me a proud papa.
  • After the typically chaotic days we live, with two demanding jobs and kids who are involved in a lot of activities, it’s a change to be mellow and quiet. Since Sean and Duncan are often like Mothra vs. Godzilla when they’re together, this is a chance to teach them the value of quiet time.

Sometimes the children and I pass out in the middle of family reading time. One time, Erin was out at an event during the usual family reading time and came home to this:

Brenner Boys Hog the Bed

Eventually, the kids go to bed and it’s just me and Erin. We’ll keep reading until I inevitably fall asleep first. Sometimes, before that happens, we’ll talk and snuggle.

Good times? Absolutely.

Camping? Don’t Let Fear and Anxiety Ruin It for You

I just got back from a weekend camping trip with the family. It’s the second time we did this in a camper, and I’ve done a few Cub Scout camping trips in the last year and a half. No small deal since OCD and anxiety used to make me fear such things.

Mood music:

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Fear of dangerous situations used to keep me on the couch, and camping was one of those things that made me tremble in terror. I’d go crazy worrying if someone was ransacking our house while we were away. I’d freak out every time the kids got dirty or bitten by bugs. The thought of eating food cooked in a dingy camper or over a campfire would give me the willies.

After years of therapy and the assistance of Prozac and Wellbutrin, I’ve actually learned to enjoy these outings.

Oh, I’m still not a fan of eating inside a camper. Ours is in great condition, but the inside has seen better days (I admit I’m a snob on this point).

Jayco Camper

Disease-laden mosquitoes still worry me. But such concerns don’t paralyze me like they used to. I can still get on with life and enjoy moments despite whatever worry has crawled into the recesses of my brain.

Duncan had a cast for this latest outing, and he got a bunch of nasty-looking bites on the last trip, including one we were fairly certain was a tick bite. It had the bulls-eye look but turned out to be nothing. I worried about these things but didn’t freak out. Not even close.

The first morning we spent at Bayley’s Camping Resort in Scarborough, Maine, I got up at 5:30 and walked to the beach. The ocean always rekindles my spirit, and this beach did not dissapoint.

Sunrise at Pine Point

The trolley ride to Old Orchard Beach that afternoon was fun. We found a discount bookstore where I acquired an illustrated bio of Led Zeppelin, and we played a few rounds of skeeball at a local arcade. This stretch of beach is a bit more circus-like than I prefer, but it made for some good people-watching.

Old Orchard Beach

The next morning we ate breakfast in a schoolhouse-turned-restaurant. Then it was off to Fort Williams Park and a visit to the Portland Head Lighthouse. This place was once a military base, which was more interesting to me than the lighthouse itself.

Portland Head Lighthouse Erin and the Boys

This was not a relaxing trip, truth be told. It was full of all the kid-related chaos that comes with family outings. But it was worth it. And Erin and I did break away for dinner and a beach walk our last night camping. We had a beautiful sunset for the walk.

Sunset on Old Orchard Beach

We were happy as hell to get home last night, especially the part where we slept in our own beds. But we made some great family memories this weekend, and you can’t do that when fear and anxiety keep you pinned to a couch in front of a TV.

I’m grateful.

Trump Snubbed by Poland’s First Lady? Research It Before You Share

Updated July 8, 2017:

People are losing their shit over a news clip showing Poland’s first lady, Agata Kornhauser-Duda, snubbing President Trump –passing by his outstretched hand and shaking First Lady Melania Trump’s hand instead.

But it didn’t happen that way.

Watch this UNEDITED clip and you’ll see that she did shake Donald’s hand. She simply shook FLOTUS’ first.

I’m reminded of the post below, written in 2014.

As I reread it, my tone comes off harsher than it probably should have. Perhaps I was just feeling high and mighty because this was before the 2016 election, when “fake news” became the rallying cry for everyone who read things they disagreed with.

Since then, I’ve probably fallen for a few. We like to paint people we disagree with in the worst possible terms. To liberals, people who voted for Trump are gullible, stupid and worse. To conservatives, liberals are universally slagged as overbearing, condescending, freedom-hating and the like.

There’s certainly some of that on both sides. But neither are universally true.

In the case of fake content on the Internet, a lot of people on both sides of the political divide fall for it daily — including those who fall into the reasonably intelligent category.

Fake news is still a relatively new thing, and we simply have some learning to do.

It drives home the importance of checking the facts on every meme, video clip and audio bit before sharing as truth. It’s more work than just hitting the like, share and retweet buttons. But people should put their beliefs to the test on a regular basis, anyway.

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Original post, from June 24, 2014…

People on Facebook continue to say and do things that are so off the rails that it’s hard not to say anything.

I’ve mentioned it before, specifically the tendency of people to troll, share relationship troubles and re-post content that satisfies one’s need for outrage but doesn’t stand up to scrutiny.

Now there’s a fresh twist: People re-posting articles that are meant to be parody but labeling them as fact.

Mood music:

The most notable example is Duffel Blog, a new favorite of mine. It’s like The Onion, with a focus on military matters. Recent headlines include “After Reaching Baghdad, ISIS Militants Declare ‘Mission Accomplished’” and “Dick Cheney Negotiates No-Bid Contract to Maintain Insurgent Humvees.”

The most amusing item so far this week blazed across my newsfeed in all caps: “CIA ADMITS: EDWARD SNOWDEN WAS TOP ASSASSIN.”

I shared that one on my Facebook page because the article itself was pretty funny. But I’ve seen more than one person sharing Duffel Blog stories and commenting in a way that suggests they bought the headline as truth.

Let me give you a piece of advice: If you see a headline that looks crazy, there’s probably a reason for it.

  • It’s satire.
  • It’s a hoax.
  • It’s propaganda, which is always slanted, whether it comes from the left or right.

Parody items you can see for what they are simply by reading past the headline. Halfway through, the joke becomes obvious.

For hoaxes and propaganda, I recommend running headlines by the handy Snopes.com, which will tell you if something is true or fake.

Research can be hard. It can be a bother. It’s so much easier to just react and opine.

But unless you want to embarrass yourself, research is necessary.

Duffle Blog headline

The OCD Diaries Is On Vacation

Aside from some repeat posts, I’m taking a break from writing the fresh stuff until Monday. Think of it as an experiment. It’s brutally hard for me to stop writing for any length of time, so this will be a character-building exercise. Have a fantabulous holiday week!

OCD and Facebook Scrabble Don’t Mix

I’ve always avoided all those Facebook games, but I recently decided to give Scrabble a shot. I’m a professional wordsmith, so I figured what the hell. I can kick a few asses and feel good about my word wizardry. But I’m the one getting my ass kicked, in more ways than one.

Mood music:

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I have six games going and I’m getting beat to shit in all but one of them. I have my excuses, for sure. I keep getting stuck with letters I can’t work with. I also question the sanity of those who decided what qualifies as a legitimate word.  Most proper nouns are rejected, but the random name will make it through. I see my opponents getting by with a lot of abbreviated words, but I can’t catch a break. Asshat isn’t a legitimate word in the Scrabble dictionary. I cry bullshit. Also, who decided oi is a word?

Here’s the real problem, though: The game triggers the part of my OCD that can’t leave well enough alone. If someone sends me a Scrabble request, I have to respond immediately. No saving my turn for later. I’ve discovered that two of my opponents have the same problem. Two seconds after I make my move, there’s another Scrabble request from the person I just made a move against. Making matters worse, they’re good. Too good. They drop 78-point words on the board like it’s nothing. Bastards.

I’ll keep playing for a little while longer, but then I think I’ll have to delete the Scrabble app forever. It’s too big a trigger for me.

If I were winning more often, I’d no doubt feel differently. But then I’d probably become even more compulsive about the game.

That being the case, losing is probably a winning strategy for me.

Facebook Scrabble