Where's the viagra?
2006-02-04 11:32 p.m.
Shakespeare's Zombie lives in my closet.
2006-02-04 1:08 p.m.
I'm feverish and my heart is racing. At first I thought it was love but since I lack an obvious object of my affection, I'm guessing it must be steroids. My blood pressure (I keep the monitor on the couch right next to my laptop) is only slightly elevated but my pulse is doing the mambo 100-110. Sheesh. Stupid ass prednisone. Luckily, I'm tapering off it. Another week and I should be done with it. Of course with the decrease in steroids, I'm getting an increase in joint pain. Something new is incredible pain in my toes - I found this week at work I was kicking off my shoes and padding around the office in stockinged feet just to give them some ease. I spoke to another one of our doctors, a rheumatologist, about methotrexate. He told me it was a safer drug than prednisone and any hair loss was reversible - meaning if I quit taking the drug my hair will fluff back up to Bridget Bardot style in no time. That left the incredibly vain part of me feeling reassured. I've got one more doctor friend in T-town to call and ask a few questions to and then I think I'll be ready to make an informed decision.
To chemotherapy or not to chemotherapy. That is the question. Whether it is nobler in the head to suffer the slings and arrows of breaking tresses. To take up brushes against a sea of unruly locks. To curl, perchance to highlight...Okay I'm going to shut up now. I can hear Shakespeare's Zombie groaning in the other room.
2 People have tried to sell me ViagraSit down and let's have a little talk.
2006-02-03 10:01 a.m.
This week on Fox they're featuring The Simpson's Tra-La-Da-Bouvier week. The into has triggered a song from childhood that I've been walking around the house singing all week:
Tra-la-da-boom-de-ay!
I met a boy today
He gave me fifty cents
To go behind the fence
He pulled my panties down
He pushed me on the ground
Boy was my mom surprised
To see my belly rise!
Aside from the uncomfortable rape insinuation, there is a bit of complicity indicated in reference to mother's surprise. The interesting thing about this song is that it was sung by the girls for other girls as a warning against the trouble boys could get you into. This wasn't a warning passed down by the parents.
By the time my mother was ready to have "the talk" with me I was already into my teens and had learned everything I needed to know from the neighborhood teens and playground ditties like the one above. Playboy and Cosmopolitan magazine were also of great help. I also remember someone finding a copy of forum magazine in a garbage can (before dumpster diving was chic) and reading the sex stories outloud at a slumber party.
My mother waited until my younger brother was of an appropriate age, in order to kill two birds with one stone. Of course, this left me too old to glean any helpful tidbits. She approached it in a very clinical fashion while we were all watching an episode of Nova on public television. I think I eventually got embarassed and went to the kitchen for some ice cream. I believe my brother was suitably impressed and had scientific questions regarding conception and the mechanics of it all.
Who taught you about sex? Do you remember any playground songs?
5 People have tried to sell me ViagraFavicon, favicon make me a wish.
2006-02-02 5:48 p.m.
I'm trying to get my snazzy new favicon to show up on the address bar but it's not working. According to our brave leader Andrew "All Hail Andrew" you just upload it to your picture list and it will automatically grap it and stick it in the address bar and bookmark bar. What am I doing wrong? Maybe I need to try it on my computer at work and see if it's working there. All this cross platform stuff it blowing my mind. If you want to make your own favicon it's easier than snot - and we know how easy snot is. I just used this site and it took me a totaly of three seconds. It's just that easy. *snaps fingers dramatically* At least the picture part is easy. It's the getting it to show up afterwards that's freaky deaky. Does anyone even say freaky deaky anymore? What is wrong with me...
9 People have tried to sell me ViagraMostly fearless.
2006-02-01 5:13 p.m.
To reinstate my independence I went and picked up my car from the dealership by myself yesterday. I probably should have sprung the money for the cab ride but I just received another box of trendy clothing in the mail, reminding me that the whole shopping therapy thing was out of control.
Plus, the dealership wanted $1,400 before they gave me my car back. $1.65 bus fare sounded like a good deal so I dug around in my change jar and set off with an umbrella to the bus stop. Upon observation, I've discovered the teenage male dress code for rainy Portland seems to be a baseball cap, hoodie with the hood pulled up and some sort of gigantic long puffy jacket that looks like it's made out of quilted sleeping bag material.
Even with my cute spa hoodie, rain jacket and umbrella, I was completely soaked through in a matter of minutes. With one white blood cell to fight off all the cold germs, I was beginning to think this whole thing was a bad idea. Then a school bus drove through a big puddle and completely drenched me. It was such a Napoleon Dynamite moment - somehow I felt I deserved the drenching as a testament of what a bad idea the whole stupid thing was. Then I sat on a packed wet bus where everyone smelled like a mixture of wet dog and low grade crack. Next I had to transfer busses to another line that smelled slightly better but I had to wait in the pouring rain for fifteen minutes while a kid with ADHD ran out into the road and back to the sidewalk to see if the bus was coming down the road yet a bazillion times. Finally, after what felt like hours later, I made it to the dealership, paid and they gave me my car back. There's a bunch of other crap they wanted to do like put in new sparkplug wires, new fan belts, check the clutch, break, muffler but I just wanted my car back. I was out of money, patience, health and sanity.
The car drives well. The engine purrs like a kitten on Hawaiian Thunderstruck catnip. I want to take her out on the highway and speed. I remember a website once that would tell you your fortune based on what kind of car you drive. For Mazda Miata it said "I do not fear being decapitated by a semi-truck." We're a fearless breed. And stupid. Mostly fearless.
4 People have tried to sell me ViagraHousekeeping, I've got your fresh towels here.
2006-01-31 4:48 p.m.
A lot of housekeeping going on here today. *dust dust dust* I'm running some new banners based on some retro pin up girl art. They're doing all right but nothing earth shaking. I'm having a difficult time thinking of witty reparte lately. I have a few more images to turn into banners that I'm messing with.
You'll notice the red sarcoidosis bracelet image on the right side of the page. I've written up an extensive What The Hell Is Wrong With KFK page so new readers will know what I'm whining about and other people can skip it and get along with our heroine's dramatic saga. I've ordered a bunch of the bracelets and will give them away to anyone who wants to wear one and raise awareness. What I like most about these is that they're kind of sexy; they say KISS for "Kick In to Stop Sarcoidosis." They are also red which is the color for AIDS and women and heart disease, so you can raise awareness for all sorts of important things without even trying. I'll let you folks know when they arrive.
The Year of the Cock *giggle* has been archived and no, I'm not strictly following the Traditional Chinese New Year calendar because I'm lazy. I've also archived all of Cingi's Blog for her, because I'm nice and totally controlling like that. Thanks to everyone who stopped by and said hi to her last week. She nearly pees her pants when new people leave a nice comment. Plus she's hella funny.
0 People have tried to sell me Viagra