September 28, 2006
::rage, in bad poem form::
There's a troll that I know.
And he works in a cave
and he cries every night
'cause his dick is concave.
There's a troll that I know
and he's oh so so short
and his life is so sad
and I'll BREAK HIM FOR SPORT.
FUCK YOU, ASSHOLE!
September 10, 2006
I can walk...sorta...
For the past five days or so I've been waking up with back pain, spasms and stiffness. It generally improved by the evening, but worsened each morning until it came to a head yesterday.
Saturday, for those of you who don't know, is the Great Day of Shopping: the farmer's market is open, Whole Foods has samples, etc. Lisa and I usually spend anywhere from 2-4 hours doing grocery shopping and other various errands we can't do during the week.
I woke up and when I tried to get out of bed, I had a back spasm so bad I yelped and fell back. I managed to work my way out, stiffly made coffee, and tried to use heat to force my muscles back into working order. No such luck, but the shopping still had to be done. I just could only look from side to side if I rotated my whole torso.
By the afternoon, I was close to crying. The pain was a constant presence that made it very difficult to move around except for a few slightly less painful positions. Desperate, I went on a rabid quest to find a massage therapist anywhere, anyone, who could take me.
Finally, I got an appointment and stumbled to the Massage Emporium that opened recently downtown, for an hour and a half of deep tissue massage.
Ow.
Oddly enough, the massage pain was a HUGE relief from the other pain. She worked and worked, trying to find out where the hell the pain was coming from. The worst hurting was right over the base of my cervical spine -that bump between my shoulders. It radiated out and down, and occasionally up. The therapist worked over it and down and everywhere, finally finding a few places that when she pressed on them, referred pain, pressure and occasionally heat to the areas that hurt.
"You're going to be bruised tomorrow," she told me, as she helpfully rubbed arnica cream into my back. "And probably feel awful, but I think we've helped the problem."
Yup. The weird spasming is much improved, I can move around better, my neck isn't trying to kill me. But OH HOLY GOD is my back sore from the massage. Sore like someone hit me a whole bunch of times. And yet, YAY.
Seriously, I take my body for granted. Not some parts of it. I've had enough bits of it go psychotically insane (knees, lungs, stomach) that I am fairly conscious of when all those parts are working well. But I do take the basic ability to move and walk and turn my head for granted. Guess this'll teach me.
September 04, 2006
Rest in Peace, Steve
I never know quite how to react to the death of someone famout - when it's a person I admired, liked, but never knew. In this case, as most, I feel a sort of vague ache.
You were a great, if crazy guy, Crocodile Hunter. And you did more for that species then anyone could have expected.
Thanks.
http://www.theaustralian.news.com.au/story/0,20867,20352124-23109,00.html