Ow
Tuesday, July 7th, 2009Hey kids!
Isn’t it nice to see the blog looking like it’s supposed to!?
I may never update or install or touch anything ever again, simply to avoid further screw ups. I regard Wordpress as I do voodoo – mysterious, dangerous, and not to be trifled with.
This (uncredited) picture does a pretty good job of conveying the migraine experience. Oddly enough, mine, too, are concentrated in my left eye.
Meanwhile – in reference to the subject line of this post – I have a killer migraine. I used to think people who whined about migraines and took three days off of work were self-indulgent drama queens.
Now I know better, although I’ve never actually taken a day off of work because of one. I have worked from home and once I gave a customer presentation seriously looped up on butabital [and painfully aware of the flourescent lighting the entire time], but I am ‘push through it’ kind of person, so the sensation that my head is going to explode and pour out my eye sockets isn’t enough for me to call in sick.
Anyway, my head hurts. Bad. So much so that I spent the first few hours this morning trying not to puke. And everytime I would have the ‘puke pre-cough’ (does everyone get this? If I’m really nauseated, I spend a lot of time coughing as if I’m puking, but nothing actually comes up. Thankfully.) I would have to clutch my head to stabilize my brain.
Ow.
Meanwhile, the Michael Jackson memorial service is on TV, and I’m not watching it (why? Funerals suck period. There’s no way I’d watch one on TV), but it does strike me as amazing that it’s getting as much – if not more – coverage than a Presidential election. Not only is it on all the major channels and news channels, but it’s also taken over VH1, E!, BET, and MTV (and who knows what else. I didn’t bother checking them all out.)
It also strikes me that a gold casket is terribly wasteful, and I really hope it’s not *real* gold, because seriously – and I think even Michael would agree with me on this – imagine how many children could be fed or AIDs medications distributed or animals rescued or people put through rehab on the money used to make a King Tut-worthy tomb that’s just going to sit in the dirt.
And while you’re pondering that, think about this: If someday the archeologists of the year 3000 dig up this casket and find a man with his bones chiseled away and cheekbone and chin implants and whatever other weirdness is in there? Happily, at least, they won’t be able to tell he didn’t have a nose, because none of us has a nose after a few hundred years in the ground.
This now makes me wonder how they do those reconstructions out of clay to approximate what Jack the Ripper or Christopher Columbus or Nefertiti (good thing I Googled that. I was WAY off in my spelling, and no doubt Frothy Afterbirth would have noticed!) or whomever may have looked like?
(Secondarily, having Googled the spelling of Nefertiti, I now know there are busts of her and that’s how we know what she looked like. But you know what I mean, like when they find bodies in fires or left strewn under a trailer by the serial killer who did them in and they manage to rebuild the face somehow?)
And with that, my left eyeball is in way too much pain to stare at this screen for one more minute. Talk to you tomorrow and until then…caveat emptor!
