Daydream Believer

(yes, I just named a post after a Monkees song)

So I'm still sick, though things have changed a little.

1) I got a doctor on Friday who actually listened to and examined me (who happily agreed with my opinion that the previous guy was a quack), took blood and... other samples and sent them off to be tested. She was extremely worried by how long this virus had been hanging on, and also by the fact that I had walked up to Broadway with a 39.5 degree fever. In the sun. Without a hat or sunnies. Dumbass. Now, we don't have a thermometer at home, nor do I really know what my temperature should be. Only by using Google and a little math did I realise that, as it's the equivalent of 103 degrees Fahrenheit, 39.4 is the threshold when you should seek medical attention for fever. Oops. All I remember is that Bret Hart once wrestled for his Intercontinental Championship against the Mountie with a 103 degree fever.

He DID lose that match, though.

So anyway, the good doctor said she'd call me with test results and that I had to chill out and monitor my diet in the meantime. Also I needed to get a thermometer.

And 2) (And apologies if this is a bit squicky), my illness has changed to the point that instead of chills, I now have to visit the bathroom 15-20 times per day. Yeah. Do the math. This has resulted in my drastically reducing what I eat out of self-preservation, which has resulted in an overall loss of energy (I'm fine moving around the house, but take me outside and I start shaking and spooking at shadows within 15 minutes). Tanja (who had IBS when she was a kid) recommended I fast for a day. Not liking this idea, I did some research, on INTERNET. Turns out I should be eating cooked or tinned fruit, Greek yogurt with active cultures, dry cooked rice or pasta, tea, toast, and especially applesauce. Bananas too, but I hate bananas. Yesterday was the first day of that diet (after two days of surviving on 1 or 2 pieces of bread and peanut butter per day), and my god, was I glad to have food again. Tanja even whipped up a pasta dish with plain pasta, chicken breast grilled without oil, yogurt and basil leaves. I fell upon it like a hyena. Hopefully the new diet'll kick in soon.

So why'd I name the post "Daydream Believer"?

Because since the first day I've been limited (that'd be Wednesday, when the cramps and fever were too strong for me to do anything but nibble bread) I've been daydreaming about food.

And I don't mean, leaning back and going "Man, I'd sure like a cheeseburger." I mean, I'll be reading or doing something else, and a vision of food will crowbar it's way into my head and take over my entire brain, to the point where my mouth starts to water. I'm talking serious mental-food-porn description. Most recent ones have been a particular almond-and-apricot-custard tart that Caketown used to make before they went on vacation, and oddly enough, sliced pepperoni with cheese and crackers. I told Tanja about the pepperoni, and she said "What, like on pizza?". Then i couldn't stop thinking about pizza. Thanks, hon.


Yeah. It's like that.

I have been restricting my diet for a little less than a week. Admittedly, it helps that I don't feel hunger anymore (at all) due to the cramps masking the hunger pangs, but my GOD how do vegans and gluten-free people and kosher folks DO IT? Admitted, though, with them it's a choice, made from willpower, as opposed to an option taken in weakness. So perhaps I need to adopt a more philosophical bent and get in touch with my inner Chi and all that.

However, on Thursday night, Tanja ate a fragrant massaman roast beef curry with rice and a Peroni right in front of me and I wanted to die. That sort of thing fucks with my Zen.

Quack.

So I've been sick the last two days. I came home with a head and body ache, and was running a fever before bedtime. I spent the first two hours in bed shivering uncontrollably (not little winter-shivers either, full-body muscle spasms). When the shivering let up, I went towards the bathroom, got nauseous and blacked out (would have hit the floor if I hadn't caught the door) then slept maybe a couple hours before waking up at 5am. Still sick, but less feverish, back to nausea and body-aches. I call in sick and go to the doctor in Marrickville due to being scared stupid by the evening I had just spent.

Got in to see the doctor. I explained it to him, and he looked at the back of my throat and made a face. An "ugh!" face. Then he asked if I was a smoker (what?). I said no. So he then let the matter drop (what?! What if I had said yes?). He asked whether I could have a few days off work, I said yes, he wrote the certificate, stamped it, and handed it to me and showed me the door. I asked if I should take anything, and he said just painkillers and rest.

When I got out, I looked at the sheet. He had said the cause of my absence was URTI. I puzzled over that for a moment before realising it meant "Upper Respiratory Tract Infection". You know, in your nose, lungs and throat. So coughing, sneezing, runny nose, sinus pain, NONE OF WHICH I HAVE.

So I'm here now, in the evening, feeling the fever heat up again (seems that this time I get the "too-hot-unreasonably" night as opposed to the "too-old-despite-blankets" night). And I'm angry, damnit.

Forced typesetting

I spent most of today (well, the parts not spent having brunch and walking back from brunch) locked in the spare bedroom, writing an assignment.

"But Lucas!" I hear you posit. "You aren't taking an courses or classes! What gives with the assignmenting?"

That's true. I'm actually finishing assignments for a course put on by work that I began in early 2008. It's a course whose last assignment was due in May of 2009.

Now, when it came to assignments in school, or university, or the various tertiary courses I've taken (be it work-based, or my advertising stuff at TAFE), I alays try to be my best. One memorable work-based-course-presentation was supposed to be 10 minutes. I overprepared and went for 25, although if they hadn't had a stopwatch, I don't know if they would have noticed (no bragging, that was my feedback). I like being able to pit my brain against something and put a project together.

But I don't know. Something happened with this course. I liked the presenters, the subject matter was relevant to my work, but somewhere along the line it stopped being important to me to do the assignments. I got the knowledge, I participate in class, I took notes, but once I was home, I had no motivation or drive to complete things, let alone complete them well. The last assignment I turned in late, incomplete and didn't think about it again.

That is, until the presenter showed up at work in June with a paper full of notes and corrections with a big legend across the top saying "Not Competent". I took it, saying I'd try again (I couldn't even lie and say I had tried. We both knew I had half-assed it).

I put the assignment on my desk at home and there it sat for 8 long months. I didn't think of it again. I'd occasionally look at it, but the only emotion I could raise was a sort of impotent anger towards "fake assignments about fake meetings" that even I know what bogus and childish.

Eventually, as they were wrapping up the course (they're revamping it next month), the presenter got around to marking some of my old assignments and emailing me the results, full of glowing praise about my written composition, the structure of my arguments, and my in-class participation. I do not pretend that ego did not play a part in what followed. Guilt was also there. It had snuck without paying while the show was starting and snuck in a bag out outside peanuts to throw at the screen.

I responded to the email, thanking the presenter for his marking my paper, and complimenting him on his new beard that I had seen him sporting.

Should have seen it coming.

He responded with thanks, then... "Oh, by the way, I'm still waiting on Module 8, as well as parts of Modules 4 & 6. It's been months If you don't turn them in by the end of this week (it was Monday), we'll be forced to mark you not competent and you'll need to start the course over again."

Well, shit. Part of my new slacker personality wanted me to just go "Fuck it, let 'em fail you." but there was enough of the old overachiever in me to respond in the affirmative, asking for a list of what I was missing from each assignment, so I could sort them out by the end of the week. Yes, by Friday.

The presenter responded by explaining that I'd missed out on small-to-medium bits of 4 & 6, but all of 8 needed to be redone, preferably using his notes.

"No problem", says I. "I still have the copy you gave me in June." He took the opportunity to tell me that he was rather disappointed in me, since I was clearly good enough to do this, and I was the first to hand the assignment in, and now the last to finish. Thanks, Dad.

So Tuesday night, I sit down and I clear off assignment 4. Then I prep assignment 6 to do later at work (since that assignment is about meetings and one-on-ones and I had based my prepartion and reflection on imaginary meetings, the part I was missing was, you know, the meetings).

I also noticed that I couldn't find the copy that the presented had returned to me with his notes. I also couldn't find the book of data from that lesson that was necessary to do the report. Non-plussed, I emailed the presenter, saying that if he could, could he bring me a copy with his notes and another booklet, or I could go pick it up before work.

Felt good about myself.

So good, that when I came home from work Wednesday night, I sat down with Tanja after dinner and watched a bunch of Madmen. I remarked on the way to bed that I hadn't done any assignment work, but it's okay, I'd do the hard yards Thursday night, and hand it in to the presented on Friday, right on time. I put the stuff I'd finished into my bag to bring to the presenter at the other office in my lunch break sometime this week. He hadn't emailed me about the booklet/notes, so I sent him (and another presenter, for good measure) another email saying that if he wanted the assignment done by Friday, I was willing, but I needed him to help me out.

Oh yeah, and did I mention? On Wednesday I got a flu shot.

Thursday I was sick. Really sick. Like wake up at 4 am to throw up kind of sick. II didn't go to work, I didn't think about the assignment, I just laid in bed and literally (with no hyperbole, superlatives, or exaggeration) cried, and willed myself to stop hurting and not die.

Friday arrives. I've shaken the flu. My immune system for the freaking win. I go to work and find an email from the presenter saying "Hi Lucas, yes, you can come get the booklet and my notes whenever you like." Also, the second presenter that I'd emailed, whom I've known for longer, stopped by the office to needle me about the assignment, um, I mean, to say hi. Actually, I'm making it sound callous, he was actually really nice and cool as he always is, and just gave a gentle reminder that these assignments should be a snap for me (again, ego). I called the first presenter and said I'd be over in my lunch break to get the booklet & notes. I head over there (about a 20-minute walk, in the rain. He calls when I'm just outside his office to say "Don't worry, I'll be over at your office, I'll bring it."). So I get the details from him, and give him assignment 4, completed. I make an offhand comment about how it's really quite tough filling in the blanks on an assignment I did in June of '08, and frankly, didn't give my best effort to then. I found it hard matching the more-complete answers with some of the sketchier stuff I'd put in earlier."

Should have known that was laying it on a bit thick.

"Well, you know, Lucas, I'd prefer if you you didn't write stuff out of context. I mean, if you need a few more days to rewrite it all and make it good, then that's fine."

*deep breath*

A FEW MORE DAYS??!

It's okay, I'm calm. He put the guilt boot in a few more times, and I left.

I wrote up his comments in Lucas-speak on Saturday, so I'd know where to start. I would have done more work, but Tanja had decided she felt like cleaning and was doing this thing where she talks to what she's cleaning. "Oh, well, that's no good, is it. It's so dusty!" It makes it hard to concentrate.

Also, I was distracted by internet.

Anyway, wrapping up, I sat down today and did it. The whole thing. And it was fine. Actually, now that I knew I was writing for content, I expounded a bit more than I usually would on a business-report-style format. The questions that had frustrated me previously were much easier, thanks to the practice I have now with handling metrics and strike rates at work. Frankly, as I said to the presenter, I'm a different team leader now than I was then. Admittedly, the math I used was different to what they wanted, but I got there in the end.

So now I'm in a frenetic writing mood. I left two loooong and one longish comment on blogs, and now I've written one of my own. It's not too long, though.

...


...


What?!?

Introspection & Gazing At Navels.

I love my wireless keyboard. Not just because I can operate the computer on the TV, but mostly because when I type quickly on it, it sounds like a typewriter. I have always loved the solid, clunky immensely satisfying *clunk* of typewriter keys. I even briefly flirted with the idea of buying an old one off eBay, just for the cathartic feeling of typing (I was held up by the fact that you can't buy ribbons for them anymore, and anyway, shipping would be a bastard).

 

Today is my first day on prescription pain medication. As anyone who's known me more than 5 minutes knows, I've suffered from headaches pretty much all my life. I hesitate to call them migraines, as what people have described to me as migraines does not fit what I get. More accurately, they're just really bad headaches, usually focussed at the base of my skull in two little knots. I have no doubt that things like stress or adrenaline bring them on, and they are occasionally resistant to medication, and often helped by physio. Lately, and by lately, I mean in the last fortnight, I have been having... different experiences. I'll go to sleep about 11:45 or midnight, then wake up roughly an hour later with a headache. A specific kind of headache, only on the left side of my head. For a moment, it'll feel like a minor thing, like you might have after just one too many beers the night before. But then as soon as you shift in position, it levels up.  If you'll forgive my purple prose for a moment, I'll describe the feeling: imagine a ball of lightning. Not a big ball, perhaps the size of a golf, or ping-pong ball. And it's spinning and roiling on the surface, kind of like the CGI Sparks in the Beast Wars: Transformers TV show. This ball sits just inside my left temple, and throbs. Then, in a motion I can only describe as similar to the lightning attacks in InFamous or Storm from Ultimate Alliance, it will lash out with lightning strikes. These strikes can hit anywhere along my head, but seem to like just behind my eyebrow, the sinus next to my nose, my upper molars, the hollow behind my jaw, and yes, the base of my skull. When they strike, they tend to march along a path, like an ellipses (you know, one of these --> ... ... ...) and then conduct off the bones in my face, before retreating again. The severity of these strikes can range from electric-shock-uncomfortable to body-wracking-painful. The first time it happened, it hurt so much I could barely speak. I have never hurt that much that I can remember. I tried to get up, but couldn't. I had to wait until the strikes died down, then lurched out of bed, staggering, really, up to the kitchen looking for some panadol. I also heated up a wheat-bag heat pack, and laid it on my face until the medication kicked in, and I could relax enough to go to sleep. The next morning, no pain. However the next night? Repeat scenario. This basically was three nights of last week. Only once did it carry over to the day after. Night before last, it happened again, just as severe as the first time. But it stayed. I had the same feeling all morning. I took more panadol (panadiene now, with codeine) but or once, the edge did not come off. No. Instead it got worse. And I was at work. Blurred vision, loss of balance... I at one pointed wished I could do something as dramatic as collapse so people could see how much I was hurting. Finally, after a "go to the doctor, you bloody fool" email from my loving wife, I did. Dr. Lentham, who I'd gone to before for my other headaches, looked on my file, and tried to offer my Cafergot. "You gave me that last time," said I. "The caffeine nearly did my head in." (see earlier post for caffiene related wackiness). So after hearing how bad it was, he prescribed Durotram XR (or tramadol hydrochloride to those playing at home) along with a huge pack of dissolveable aspirin. Instructions? Take one Durotram before bed. It will slowly dissolve over 24 hours, and take 3 aspirin when I get a headache, and 2 more if it doesn't help after 3 hours. I took the Durotram last night. I woke up at 1:00am with another lightning blast. Got up, took the aspirin, went back to bed. Did I mention that my brain tends to process the pain visually? Blame years of video games and TV. When it hits, I usually involuntarily picture marching lightning bolts raining destruction. Last night? It was raining fire. Odd, surreal, cartoon fire. I eventually got up and slept on the couch to spare Tanja my tossing and turning. This morning, I was wide-awake at 7:15 with the oddest feeling. I'm still in pain, but I feel like my head is numb. As I described on Twitter, it's like I'm standing between two white sheets on two clotheslines, looking West, while behind the East sheet is a huge grey silhouette (that would be the pain). There's a breeze blowing, and the sheets move and someties I get a glimpse of the grey in the corner of my eye (followed by a brief, but solid pain that, were it in a comic book, with have the sound effect "SPANG" like the glint of sunlight off a blade), but then it will fade back. And, if you'll keep to the metaphor for a moment, I don't want to turn, or move too quickly, because the sheets are barely any refuge. I feel fragile, like a spiderweb.

 

Also, if I may dirgress for a moment, I'm finding myself focusing on things too intently. Anyone who's known me for the afore-mentioned 5 minutes also knows that I doodle. A lot. Almost compulsively. It's a habit I picked up in high school, carried on to university, and worked into my various careers, be they retail, on-phone, or managerial. When I was on the phones, I could go through a pen in 5 days. As a symptom, I've also gained the habit of buying pens (usually gel pens of varying brands, I prefer 0.7mm points or above, rollerball better than brush) from newsagents. I have a huge pencil-case at work (which at one point 6 months ago, was raided and many of my pens stolen, which displeased me to no end). I usually have a few in my backpack, in case the mood strikes me. This morning, as I was watching The Digg Reel & iFanboy, trying to relax, I had grabbed the desk calender from the computer room and was using my Pilot Vpen (you know, the ones with the fountain pen nib?) to doodle. My usual subjects are stars, which I've taight myself to draw freehand, without interior lines, specifically what some people refer to as "<punk stars", but compounded with many layers, and random words being said around me or thought by me in block letters, usually serif, done in alternating outline and filled styles, though occasionally I'll like the look of certain letter) were being used, but I realised something: I was bringing my face closer and closer as I drew, the edges becoming sketchier and sketchier, like something out of a Spawn comic (ironically one of the discussion points on iFanboy). After a while I was not paying attention to the show, just watching myself draw. I had to shake my head to break my concentration. Is this part of the medication? I don't know.

 

And I still find it ironic that a potentially side effect listed for headache medication is "headache".

Wierdness=creativity

I feel weird. I blame the weird-feeling on my screwing-up of my normal routine. I woke up, had cereal, went to the gym, then came back, had juice and two cups of coffee (I usually have juice and coffee with my cereal, THEN go to the gym). So now I'm shaky, my head is pounding and I'm dizzy. I was taking a shower, trying to clear my head, but all I could think about were random geeky and obscure references I could put on t-shirts. The first one?

 

[Silhouette of man's head with long curly hair] = [silhouette of shapely female form]

(taking off on the line from the Wog Boy about "having the curls to get the girls.")

 

Then I started thinking about Roadhouse and the ideas exploded:

 

·         [Silhouette of a man in blue with his right foot illuminated in red, possibly with a cutaway showing the razor in the toe of his boot]. On the back: RIGHT BOOT.

·         PAIN  ≠ HURT

·         Two separate Euler circles, not intersecting, one marked "MY WAY" the other marked "HIGHWAY".

and finally

·         "TOO STUPID TO HAVE A GOOD TIME"

 

If and when I make these, I'll have to send a bunch to the Rifftrax crew.

 

Tanja has just brought me a turkey, red kraut & cranberry sandwich, so I must eat. Hopefully I'll feel better.

---

Windows Live: Keep your friends up to date with what you do online.

Recapping and mentioning t-shirts. A lot. (reposted from The Lucas Letters)

"Dear Family;

Well, Bill Bailey was very funny and extremely entertaining as always. Plus I got to learn that when it comes to music, the augmented fourth chord (or diminished fifth chord, depending on your worldview) in considered not fit to be played in a church or in hymns. It was classified as a dissonance, because the sound was supposed to awaken bad thoughts. All this means for us today is that it's used in every haunted-house movie because it's very sound provokes uncertainty. Cool. The show wasn't all about historical musical nerdery. There were jokes too. I bought a tour t-shirt, which was the first shirt of that sort that I've ever bought at a show.

Oh! Also at the show I had a wonderful moment. As you all know, I print t-shirts for people. Most of the time it's for people I know or work with. So imagine my surprise when, while waiting in line at the Bill Bailey show, I spot someone wearing one of the 10 shirts I made for a band called Xquabed a year or so ago. I even saw the little Ampersand on the sleeve. I wanted to go over and talk to the guy, but common sense (and Tanja) told me not to embarrass him. Oh well. It was still a thrill.

Speaking of shirts, I've just had a monster order put in by various work-people. I ordered 20 blanks online, and I'll need to print them as soon as they get here. One guy originally said he wanted 2 shirts. He then got on the phone to his brother and ordered shirts for his brother, his brother's wife, his brother's son, ending up with 8 shirts total. I felt like telling him "You know, guy, you can place more than one order. I'm not dying next week."

Poor Tanja's been feeling a bit sick lately, but my super-immune-system has been keeping me safe.

All for now!

-Lucas"

Genuine People Hair! Made from Real People!

Got my hair trimmed at Noddy's On King this morning, and as usual, Ivana (the stylist) had one of the less-senior folks do the drying and straightening. However, this time, the girl didn't use straightening irons. She went through my whole mass of giant hair with a round brush and a hair dryer, a process that took 45 minutes or so (I have like 8 natural layers, my hair's thick). The result? Awesome. My hair looks about three inches longer than normal, and shiny and smooth and it moves and then goes back to where it was. Even Ted and Pete (self-confessed "guys" who don't notice that stuff) went "Whoa!"



On the health front, we've had ups and downs since last entry. Saturday, Sunday, Monday and Tuesday i was fine, but Wednesday my throat and voice went mental again, and remained so on and off all week. Today I got myself a big back-of-the-neck headache too. Stupid body.

Unreliably Immune

So it's now 7 full days that I've been sick. Not just "I feel a bit off" sick but more like "waking up at 3am coughing and chowing down on Strepsils like candy so I can go back to sleep" sick. In that time I've taken three days off work. Two more were taken by annual leave. Damnit, body, this is unacceptable. Sort your shit out! This is the longest time I've been sick since high school. Usually, I get a bit sniffly on day 1, am sick for day 2, then am fine by day 3 (although I've usually passed it to Tanja at this point, who stays sick for 2 weeks). It's the benefit of a good immune system. But that's seemingly not WORKing now!

Also, in that 7 days, I haven't gone to the gym at all in 6 days. I went the first day, but found I couldn't breathe right because of my throat. And as of today I feel like I've gone right back to as fat-feeling as I was 5 weeks ago. 5 weeks to get fitter, 1 week to ruin it. Go me.

God doesn't want me to have the wireless interwebs.

That must be it.

I got a laptop from my dad in February. It came with a little plug-in wireless reciever card for Wifi. He used it at his room to get the 'Net from the cafe across the street. I've never used it because no one has Wifi near our place, but I saw signs that Kelly's Pub and Cafe Anise in Newtown both offer free wireless broadband through uConnect.

So yesterday, when I went to get my medical certificate, I dragged along my laptop in my backpack. Went to the doc, picked up some groceries, then went to Kelly's. Ordered a drink sat down, located a powerpoint to plug in my laptop and realised I'd left the cord at home. Without the cord, I have a grand total of three minutes of battery life. D'oh. So I drink my drink and go home.

Today, I'm going to get Codril and some cold cuts and I think "Ok. I'm going to bring my laptop again, this time with cord handy. Got my Codril, get my cold cuts, go to Cafe Anise, the cafe where Dad used to use it./ Sit down, order a cup of T2 lemongrass and ginger tea, plug in my laptop. Which doesn't turn on. I check the powerpoint. As I'm doing so, a waiter goes by and says "Oh, that powerpoint's broken. And the other one has stuff plugged in. So we don't have any free. Here's your tea, by the way." I drink my tea. It's not great. I leave.

I go back to Kelly's. I plug in. I turn on my laptop. It works. I order a lemonade. I search for networks. I see uConnect. I hit "connect". Waiting. Waiting. Waiting. "Could not connect. Please check if network is available." I hit refresh to update my network list. UConnect is gone. Search again and again. Suddenly, I see another unsecured network, with a gibberish name. Any port in a storm, right? "Could not connect. Please check if network is available." Bugger. So I think "Meh. I can't get it. I'll drink my lemonade and read some Deadpool comics I've got on Cdisplay." So I read for a bit, finish the issue I was on, and, just on a whim, try to connect to GibberishNet again. "Acquiring IP address." What? Now? It's working? "Waiting for network." Holy crap! "Connected." Whaa!!! I open Explorer. "Cannot display page." What? I look back down at the connection. "Little or no connectivity. Signal may not allow internet access." Then, as I watched: "Disconnected. Acquiring IP address."

Repeat ad nauseum for another 10 minutes. It doesn't connect again.

So I'm blogging from home now.

Stupid technology.

Blech.

I've always thought that if you're sick on time you have off (like summer vacation when you're in school) you should get days in lieu. Of course, it doesn't work that way. After waking up on Saturday with what Ted insisted on calling a "golfball-haunted throat", I graduated into full-blown cold as of Sunday. It's now Monday and I took the day off sick. However, since I have Tuesday and Wednesday off, I need a doctorb's note. I just hope I'm better by tomorrow. I don't want to be sick on days off!

Adrian's off for NY, and he probably won't blog while he's there because frankly, he has no drive. probably a nihilist or something.

Ted, Pete, and I had The Good Practice on Saturday, throat notwithstanding. We learned a new White Stripes song. We're slowly building a nice little repertoire. Never going to update the MySpace again, though, unless we can record something. *glares at Ted*

Oh, and for the first time in my life, I'm drinking tea. Yesterday it was chamomile with honey and lemon, and then I went to T2 and purchased some Vanilla Slice loose tea. I swore I'd never go down this road, but coffee just dried out my throat too much.

*sniff*

Ladies and Gents,

I present my girl! The only person I know who can take a mental health day feeling completely fine...

...and then be sick with chills and fever by 5 pm.

And then have to take a legitimate day off.

I say hubris.

Rainy Day Off

I like the sound the keyboard makes when I'm typing fast. Makes me long to have a typewriter again.

Well I'm home sick today. After the stress of Wednesday Night Live I was bone-tired last night and my back was aching (Tanja thinks it's due to the lifting and carrying of things). This mroning I woke up feeling like someone had punched me in the face and then clipped me on the back of the neck with a sledgehammer. My face all around my nose hurt and my shoulders were tense all around my spine. I took some tablets and had a hot shower, which eased the ache in my face a little, but not the back of my head. Called Farid, called in sick.

Damnit, what was I going to say? It'll come to me.

Watched Hannibal Rising this morning. Started off halfway interesting but kind of lost it in the last 30 minutes.

Oh right! That was it.

Possibly due to people in Hannibal Rising singing German folk songs (odd, since the early part of the film is set in Lithuania), I have a French Christmas song stuck in my head. I've never sung it myself, but I've seen it in lots of films and heard choirs sing it. If it comes on in a film that I'm watching with my Dad (Ronin, being a recent example) he sings along in French. Apparently, it was drilled into him as a child. Problem is, I don't know the title, or even the words. It kind of goes "da da DA da-da-da da daaa, da-da-da-dada-daa-daa-daa-daa..." Ok, that's not working. Anywhoo. I tried looking in the credits of Ronin, but there are tons of classical songs in that. I'll ask Dad next time I see him.

That Hound Dog's a mean wine....

Yesterday was the farewell party Ops support had for the coaches (who are returning to being regular-joe CSRs as of Monday). I had three or four little cups of champagne with the others, and when another bottle was sent for, I asked for a bottle of wine. I asked for a Hound Dog Cab Sav, which I had drank before and knew was *ahem* affordable. They came back with a Hound Dog Shiraz. I had two cups of that, and all of a sudden I couldn't focus. It wasn't drunkenness. It felt like I imagine a concussion must feel. I made it home, couldn't eat dinner, and promptly passed out on the bed. Two hours later I woke up with a huge headache, a queasy stomach and muscles quivering and weak. I was able to eat a bit then, with Tanja helping to keep me conscious. After downing some tablets, I had a shower and went back to bed. Twice during the night I had to take more headache tablets, and the second time a Valerian root pill to put me to sleep.

This morning I took yet more tablets and had a big breakfast, but I still felt queasy, tired, and headachey. I had a short practice with Ted, but then begged off. I still feel like crap, even after a shower, food, and still more tablets.

Tanja reckons it was the preservatives in the wine that are screwing with my system. Ugh. I dunno.

Cough Cough.

Despite sleeping poorly and waking up with a stuffy nose, sinus headache, and sore throat, I was overshadowed. First at work, by the fact that everyone and their dog was as sick if not sicker than me (including 70% of my and Craig's team, my boss, and my fellow coaches). So I had a LemSip and, in the words of Chopper Read, hardened the fuck up. Secondly, once I got home, it seems that Tanja had hurt her leg just below the knee in an unknown mishap, causing her to hobble about and be generally immobile. So I did the running around. Sigh. No time to be sick. Got a world to run.

Checked the online TV guide tonight and saw to my delight that Spicks and Specks was showing, despite it being a Monday. Great, said I. So I killed the hour between then and 8:30, watching Top Gear, which (surprisingly) I thoroughly enjoyed, despite not being a car guy, and the presence of Steve Coogan, who I still think is a wanker. They actually had these two guys, who were experts in parkour (free running), as seen in Casino Royale, racing a guy in a car across Liverpool. They used a combination of gymnastics, capoeira, and general athleticism to, well, generally run around being awesome and jumping things. Unfortunately, the Monday-night Spicks/Specks was not to be. I read the wrong column. People in Queensland got to see it instead. Bugger.

Oh, and I bought a pair of Converse Chuck Taylor All-Stars for $40. Score.

Just killing time...

...as no one but me turned up to the last Ethics class we had (irony, thy name is Dale). I picked up my Body Shop assignment. I got 42 1/2 out of 50. Huzzah! And thanks to a bout of middle-ear infection, I was a wreck on Friday and Saturday, missed work on Sunday, but was well enough to finish my big report for Innovation Sunday night.

And, thanks to Tanja's encouragement and a sale at David Jones, I now have a swanky Drizabone leather jacket. It's waterproof too. It's been tested today, thanks to rain.

Oh, and Toronto was nearly blown up by terrorists. They stuck it in as a footnote to the news last night. Fertiliser bomb. Yikes.

Acquisitions

So it's been a spendy-grabby-acquisitiony few weeks. I went and bought a record player from Dick Smith that would be compatible with our stereo system, despite the dickhead who works there trying to talk me out of it ("You know how fast these wear out, man? And the sound quality of vinyl just sucks." Dude, I have money in my hand and know exactly what I want. Shut your damn mouth.) So now I can play the Shadows, Johnny Cash, Elvis Presley, John Denver, Neil Diamond, and John Lennon records I found by the side of the road/got from Tanja's father. Also, I made my first foray into Egg records. Appalled at the prices of some things (70 dollars for the Clash's London Calling! And it's not even an original. It's a RE-RELEASE! Get over yourselves!), I ducked into the bargain racks at the back of the store. $4.95 for 1, $15 for 5, $25 for 10. I found some good ones:
Scott Joplin - The Sting: OMPST (Nice ragtime tunes. And "Solace" is one of the loneliest songs I've ever heard)
Bruce Springsteen - Born To Run (I was inspired by it's use in the Battle Royale novel)
Sigue Sigue Sputnik - Flaunt It (It's not just a High Fidelity joke anymore)
The Guess Who - Live At The Paramount (with a 15 minute improv on American Woman)
Steve Miller Band - Abracadabra (I know, i know, but I like the band, and I couldn't find one with The Joker or Jet Airliner on it)
(And these last five are for Tanja, purchased to make her not yell at me for wasting my money):
U2 - War
Kim Wilde - Kim Wilde
Kim Wilde - Select
Abba - Arrival (bwa ha ha)
Midnight Oil - Diesel and Dust

Also, speaking of music acquisitions, David at work has decided to reciprocate my burning him 2 or 3 CDs every week ever since I've known him by lending me a bunch of albums which are now residing in my iPod:
Sublime - 40 oz To Freedom
Red Hot Chili Peppers - By The Way
Black Rebel Motorcycle Club - Howl (Really good)
Fiona Apple - Extraordinary Machine
Eskimo Joe - A Song Is A City
Faith No More - Angel Dust
The White Stripes - Get Thee Behind Me Satan
Goldfrapp - Supernature
Grosse Pointe Blank - Soundtrack
Nirvana - Nirvana (the black one)
Morphine - Cure for Pain

Of course, all this was the day I bought myself the following CDs form the $10 CD shop:
Beck - Mellow Gold
Eel - Souljacker (Really, really, ridiculously good. like Beck. But easier to digest)
The Ramones - The Ramones (the re-release with bonus tracks of the first album. I got into a 2-hour argument with Victoria from work because she saw me CD, and started the conversation with "Oh, I don't like the Ramones. They suck." and my lashing back that without the Ramones, there wouldn't BE a punk scene. Dagnabbit. I made myself a Ramones T-shirt, just to wear to work and spite her. Heh)

Oh, and Mom's parcel (that she sent in OCTOBER [doh]) finally arrived with my three Mystery Science Theatre 3000 boxed sets. Happy happy joy joy! I even submitted a few of them to Tanja and she laughed! Hooray! I won't have to watch them alone.

The last few days, though, I’ve been oddly sick. Not cold-sick. No runny nose or anything like that. It sort of happened after I walked in the rain 3 times and ate lukewarm soggy pizza at 2 pm. Then at 5:30 that day I felt unbearable lethargy, soreness like I’d been beaten, lightheadedness, dizzy spells, and a massive headache. I begged off work early. Between work, the train platform, and home, I developed a fever and chills. Tanja helped me once I got home, but the night was filled with half-waking odd dreams of nonsense words drowning me like quicksand (shut up, I’m trying to explain here) sore muscles, and only about three hours of actual sleep. I got up at 4:30 am, and read in the living room, then passed out on the couch for an hour. That morning, my fever and chills were gone, but the headache, dizziness and muscle pain remained. I went to the doctor and got a sick certificate for that day as well, and was feeling nearly normal when I went to bed at 11:30. Cue awakening at 2:47 am. I was so dehydrated. Not just normal dehydrated. This was can’t-swallow-skin-raspy-eyes-hurting-bleeding-from-nasal-capillaries-dehydrated. After sculling a glass of Tanja-recommended Gastrolyte electrolyte drink (though sculling is a misnomer: it tasted horrid, so I read a magazine and drank it over 40 minutes), I was able to sleep until 8. I awoke dehydrated again. Bought two bottles of Gatorade from the IGA and sculled them too. I’m feeling slightly more human now. My nose is no longer bleeding. And there was much rejoicing.

Anyway, I was able to buy said Gatorade for this reason: yesterday, emboldened by my scavenger/bargain hunter spirit, Tanja spotted what she called a tall-boy chest of drawers left out by the curb. We lugged it back home, her blushing furiously, and me crowing in triumph. After some finagling, we got it into the bedroom. In the aftermath, this conversation occurred: (paraphrased)
Tanja: “Hey, Lucas, you know that brown leather 3-seater couch we saw at the store on King Street? How much was that?”
Me: “I think it was around $1000.”
Tanja: “Oh. I’ve been looking in the Ikea and Freedom catalogues, and they don’t have one for less that $1500. I think maybe tomorrow on your day off, you should swing by and get it.”
Me: “Okaaaay.”

So that’s why I was out. It won’t actually arrive until Saturday or so next week (they’re waiting on the next shipment), but we have a new couch! No more futon-thingy. I’ve even convinced Tanja to put the futon out on the balcony (a covered balcony, mind you) for our smoking guests. So I was out ordering the couch, and sculling Gatorade, and I wandered back into the record store. The bargain bins called to me, and I made the following purchases:
David Bowie - Changes One (Surprisingly fantastic. Then again, maybe not so surprising)
Led Zeppelin - Led Zeppelin (!!!!)
Led Zeppelin - Houses of the Holy (Also !!!!)
BB King - Best of, 1974 (Some of it recorded live at Cook County Jail)
The Kinks - One Golden Hour (Another Greatest Hits, but I enjoy their early stuff)

So now I’m playing Command & Conquer, reorganizing my closet, listening to records, and hoping I’m not still sick tomorrow.

And that’s all I have to say aboot that.

Shenanigans.

Argh. i'm sick. I have a stupid cold. Which is worse than a smart cold.

My Flogging Molly CD ran out of tracks, and the stereoo switched over to Tanja's Aqua album. I'm too lazy to go change it.

Ok, next few weeks will be busy ones. Well, ok, just the week after next. For shenanigans have been planned!

(have decided just now to burn CD of Crystal method, Lemon Jelly, and Beastie Boys remixes to combat Tanja's Aqua)

October 28th: I drag Tanja to go see Magic Dirt and the Spazzys at the Metro Theatre, after convincing her that yes, it will be fun, and no, these bands aren't way too loud. Hurrah for persuasion!

(CD finished. Playing "Acetone" and annoying neighbours)

October 29th: Halloween Shenanigans! Yes, ok, I know it's not actually going to be ON Halloween, but Halloween is on a Monday, damnit. I put up a poster at work, to let people know about the arrive-at-our-place-watch-cheesy-films-while-drinking-then-hit-the-town-thing. Was told by doom-and-gloom Assitant manager that apparantly, American music boss is having yearly Halloween party on same night, and that no one would come to mine. Bint. Spoke to American music boss, who said that he gets like 5 work people out of everyone he invited, but if the people at mine want to swing by his later, the more the merrier. Very decent of him, no sarcasm at all. Yes. So that is the plan. People arrive here. Watch film. Drink heavily. Get costumed. Go to this guy's party. Apparantly his theme this year is "come dressed as a song (and you're not allowed to come as Nirvana's 'Come as you are'. Heh)". Craig, you could be "Don't Fear The Reaper" by Blue Oyster Cult, or "Crimson Ghost" by the Misfits. Ted (if he wants to be a pirate again)can be the "Last Saskatchewan Pirate" by the Arrogant Worms. Catherine can be... Well... Catherine. By PJ Harvey. Or whatever. I don't know. Do I have to do all the thinking around here?

October 30th: Plan to be hungover.

"Gut spasms. Hmm."

Tanja is sick. And she's going through a medical dictionary looking for symptoms she can relate too, and make her condition sound worse.

"Do you ever wake up tired in the morning?"
"Oh my God, write this down, whatever it is, I have it."

Sympathy monger. :P

Rapid Fire Update, featuring buying thingies!

-->Tanja's been sick lately, from a cold I gave her (I got over it in like three days, AGAIN) and it's a worse cold for her than it was for me (AGAIN!). We stayed in all yesterday watching Pride and Prejudice (I wish people of Jane Austen's time could tell people to fuck off when those people are rude and bitchy. Stupid protocol in stupid polite society) and The Sting (which is one of my all-time favourites and Tanja didn't hate. Score one for the plus category!).

-->Despite Tanja's optomistic reassurances that I'd get boatloads of money back, around $3-500, turns out that thanks to inSuck's undertaxing me when I worked there, I actually OWE fifty bucks in tax. WAS. NOT. AMUSED.

-->Am trying to change my avaliability at work, so as not to work ALL closes until 11 pm every time. May catch hell from bosses. May toss hell right back. Fuck 'em.

-->Tanja keeps calling my black wool greatcoat a "Craig coat". Damnit! I bought that coat when Craig was like 15! It was a Me Coat before it was a Him Coat!

-->Oh, and someone tell Tanja that Million Dollar Baby is a good movie so she'll watch it with me. Ditto Sin City.

Things we bought in our spending spree:
-->Fancy-schmancy new computer with 17" screen and new printer (dubbed HEX, the "Thinking" Machine), on which I can use my iPod (HEX Jr.), Age of Mythology, the new AoM Expansion Pack Titans (in which you can get a giant 100 feet tall, made of molten rock that I call THE GREAT METAL LORD!) and finally, Generals! No more Generals sitting in the corners looking sad!
-->New coffee table. Ooh, spacious.
-->Breville sandwich toaster. No more cold bread for me!
-->Dinner at fancy Rubyo's restaurant. Sort of like Tapas, but not Spanish. Finally! Posh grub we can stuff ourselves on.
-->Gorillaz new CD for Tanja, and Ron White's DVD "They Call Me Tater Salad" for me.