For my long time readers, I once showed you an email received from an old friend/fling - specifically, in January of 2003. Very interesting stuff.

Since that time, she has gone on to do some very neat things, namely, creating her own language. She has made it into several newspapers (like the Globe and Mail) and most recently, the LA Times.

So, does this sort of make me famous by association?

I have been feeling generally like I was losing my mind for about the last week. It started about a week ago. I was feeling...again, generally, achy and tired, with headaches, a widespread ache up and down my back, especially while walking, or sleeping. It wasn't getting better, and the lack of sleep and a heaping helping of pain was driving me crazy.

Sunday morning. I wake up at 3:30 am, having tossed and turned all night, the pain becoming nearly blinding (on top of being sensitive to light anyway). I talk myself into going to the hospital, hoping that if I go in the middle of the night, the wait might not be so bad. I stumble in to wake MW up and tell him I'm going in. No reason for him to tag along. I figure it's not *that* serious, relatively speaking, and there's not point for both of us to wait and lose sleep.

I get to the hospital around 4am, the waiting area empty save for one girl who is curled up in a blanket. I stand around waiting for a nurse. She finally sees me. I explain to her, through exhausted tears, my situation. I remember, in my last city, that the hospital also acted like an outpatients, but she told me that's not how it really works, and invited me to stay, but explained that I would be triaged and gave me a list of the after-hours clinics. I decided to wait for 2 hours and see what happens. There was a OD case that came in just before me, so I expected a lengthy wait, especially with only one doctor on duty.

It was freezing in the waiting area, but thankfully there were a few blankets scattered on the chairs. I suppose I should not have picked up a blanket, not knowing where it came from, but I just couldn't resist and took my chances.

I fell into a light sleep in the chair, with About Schmidt play on TBS (I hate that fucking movie). I got woken up two hours later. I got ushered into the room, asked a few questions and given a BIG, HEATED BLANKY. Not being familiar with hospital procedures, I wrapped the BIG, HEATED BLANKY around my legs and waited for the doctor. And waited. I eventually scooted down and laid down on the bed and dozed, listening the nurses outside the curtain talking about overtime and working nights (can someone tell me why hospital staff tend to obsess about working hours, overtime, and salary?).

Some time after, the doctor came in. He was very friendly and sat down patiently while I explained my symptoms. I then talked about a rash I've had on my shoulder for about a week or so, (that looks a little bit like this***). He told me almost immediately that it was shingles. We think it started with a 'local stressor' of a sunburn I got a few weeks ago.

Also I feel about 30% better knowing what the heck is causing this pain, there is nothing they can do to treat it. I was told to take lots of Advil, and asked the doctor for something a bit stronger to help me sleep, so at least I can take some Tylenol 3s to knock me out at night. It will take probably another 2-4 weeks for it to go away, which is sort of pain in the neck, so speak.


***Just to avoid the rumours. That is NOT my nipple and hairy-areola. Mine look a little different.

First of all, no one knows what happen to my ring. This is a little sad. But perhaps it just means I have to buy myself another piece of jewelry. There was more salt rubbed into the no-ring situation this weekend, as someone I know received a nice big honking ring.

This is off topic, I need to publicly declare that I have no desire to be married or have babies. Would I like a nice big honking ring (NBHR)? Sure. Jewelry is pretty. And I get the symbolism of it...ie: "I love you enough to invest in jewelry". But I know that neither kids nor marriage is any sort of commitment. Frankly, I don't know if I could have said the same thing 5, 10 years ago. I came from the 'perfect' family scenario. Two-point-five kids and a dog and a car or two parked in the driveway. You date, you marry, you have babies, and everything is happily ever after. It's a nice ideal, but I don't know if that's something that works for me, right now. So, what I'm saying is: Please Fuck Off.

No, not you. I love you.

I mean, specifically, my family.

Anyway.

The original intent of this post was to talk about my latest pet peeve. It relates to toilets.

Public toilets, specifically.

So, crap work today. That means spending hours online with nothing in particular to do. Lately, I've been going through my over 2000 hotmails deleting the ones that are no longer imporant (ie: "Hey, we getting together this weekend?"). I found an email about an eBayl bid I placed back in July 2005. I won the bid, and I remember receiving the ring. But you know what? It's the darndest thing. I have no idea where it is now.

Does anyone else remember? Did I lose it? Did it break somehow? Was it stolen?

It was a very pretty diamond and sapphire ring. And I recall bringing it in to be resized. But I can't remember anything after that. Do you think it's possible that there's a ring waiting for me somewhere?

But now that I think about it, it may have broke. I just don't know. But couldn't that be fixed?

What happened to my ring?

• "I'm so sorry."

• "A hundred thousand dollars in student debt load for this, eh?"

• "Can you make a quacking noise while you do that?"

• "Look what I can do!"

• "I was wondering where that went."

• "Do you have Tutti Frutti?"

Please feel free to submit your own. :)

I was doing so well, but I've gotten distracted by summer and Important Life Events. But there are a few updates.

• Mr. Misogyny called me. Damn Facebook. That'll teach me to include my phone number on there. Not that I really care. But I thought he somehow found my blog and wanted to beat me up. Turns out he was just trying to find out where the Reunion festivities had moved to, so I let him know. He showed up in, I kid you not, a Playboy pinup button down shirt, with little almost naked ladies all over them. Oh, and of course the gold chain. So skeevy. He even stole a smooch from Jallapeno. Icky, icky, icky. I hope he shows up at the 25th reunion so I can walk up to me and ask... "You're still not happy, are you?"

• There is a somewhat major news I received a few weeks ago, but unfortunately I have yet to get the go-ahead to announce it. If you know me, you probably already know, and if you don't know me, I'll tell you anyway.
  

• A stranger is going to have their hand up my vagina in about...oh... 4 hours.
  

• I am covered in bug bites, a few of which are near my aforementioned vagina. I hope I don't get misdiagnosed as having scabies or something.....