Friday I saw my midwife for “well woman care”… which is alternacare-speak for a good old-fashioned pap smear and internal exam. No doubt you’ll all be stoked to hear that my cervix looks healthy, and that I have no lumpy breast tissue. And my blood pressure is great, and I appear to be generally well. (Physically. As we all know, I’m quite whacked out of my head in my old age. Squonk.)
She put me on some suppliments… DHEA, whatever the hell that is, and B6. The B6 is supposed to help with the new screwiness of my non-fertile fertility cycle; the DHEA is supposed to, I don’t know, make me feel better. I haven’t bothered to look either suppliment up yet, to be honest. Which might actually mean the DHEA is working, because normally I’d have researched the shit out of it. (By “normally,” I mean the freak I’ve turned into in these past couple of years. Pre-freak, I would have researched it when I damn well got around to it.)
I had only mild anxiety over the weekend. A few spikes here and there, but nothing terrible. It seems to be tapering off. God, I hope so. I cannot express HOW SICK I AM of feeling my heart lurch and skip beats. It gets old really fast, let me tell you, to be repeatedly kicked in the chest – from the inside – by your own laboring heart.
Why is it that when a woman tells a man she’s going to have a gyno exam, the man invariably says, “Have fun with that,” while making a weird face? Have fun with that? Have FUN with that? Okay, buddy, when you get old enough to need prostate exams, I’ll be chortling with undisguised GLEE when I encourage you to enjoy yourself at the proctologist’s!
Today it’s too chilly to lie out, which is a bummer. I figured after raining all weekend the least Nature could do is help me out with my tan. But no, apparently she wants me to clean my house instead. Bitch.
Will you still love me if I reveal that I have not bathed since last Thursday? (Please note: I haven’t gone anywhere or seen anyone since Friday, so this experiment isn’t actually hurting anyone.) I think I no longer like to bathe. In fact, I think I’ve gotten bored of it. Being oily-skinned, I spent many, many, many years of my life bathing every single solitary day – and I think I may have hit my quota. Now I just don’t want to bother. I mean, I want to be clean and smell nice, but getting in the shower seems like such a pain in the ass when there’s other stuff to do. Like take a nap.
Plus Joe was telling me the other day that some healer was telling him that Westerners bathe too much; that certain things need to be reabsorbed by the skin after exertion or excercize, and that chronic rampant bathing is actually a hazard to healthy joint function. So there.
I absolutely love del.icio.us and I think it’s utterly brilliant. It seems so simple and obvious I can’t believe no one’s done it before. It’s not just a bookmark manager; it’s a self-referral, live-updating amalgamation of ‘what everyone’s surfing.’
I feel the same way about Last FM. I found it a couple of days ago and it seems so obvious I can’t believe I haven’t been using this site for years. It’s an online radio station, and it tracks what people like. So when you sign up for an account and tell it what you like, it intelligently recommends music to you. And you can buy music from them, too. It’s almost creepy how simple and elegant this is!
Finally, here’s what I’m listening to this morning – I’m using Audioscrobber for iTunes to feed my tastes to Last FM. Oh yeah.
My Damn Blog has a new stylesheet featuring three columns! Aren’t I clever?
So the new server I told you about, with the missing modules? The one goblinbox was migrating to? Well, that’s cancelled.
The ISP had failed to install something, and wiped the entire box in the process of fixing the problem. This so enraged Keef and Liz – they’d each already moved all their clients – that they yanked the box altogether and are looking for another place to locate the server. And goblinbox won’t be moving for a bit. Can you see my relief in between the pixels?
Today I’m utterly hooked on Stay With You, by Lemon Jelly. It’s such a sweet little house groove, all sunny and summery and deep and bright.
Now.
Please excuse me while I go fuck around with my new ?ber fun Audioscrobbler/Last FM accounts. Groove on, my sweet babies.
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So you know goblinbox has to move… again… to a new server? Well, Keef found me this groovy linux chick with root on both servers to help me with my move, but other than FTPing all my files to the new box (a HUGE help, that) not much is happening yet because my scripts don’t want to run on the new server. Some Perl module or another is missing. I have backed up all my blogs, but have been adding posts since so my backups are already obsolete. *sigh*
I have The Fear. The Fear that I will be here (in the office) on Sunday night, madly trying to move stuff before the old server goes down forever.
Here’s the Mushlette sitting at her desk, eating her lunch. No, apparently she did not brush her hair at all. (I think hairbrushing is highly overrated, and I blow it off on a regular basis.)
On the wall is a hand-drawn poster, actually a diagram, of our Fairfield COLO, complete with terms like “ITS loop pair” and “DSLAM” and “DSL Splitter” and “ATM switch,” that Qi Liang drew for me. I loved it so much I taped it to the wall, and he thought I was nuts.
This photo is courtesy of Frazer, my favorite crazy Internet engineer, who just walked up to me with his beat-up old digital camera and took my picture. (After I grabbed it, looked at it, and gave it back to him, of course.) I suspect the photo’s blurriness is due to fingerprints all over the lens.
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Instagram has become unusable crap, so please click the icon below to see my latest pics.
4 random books from my Library!
