Sunday, September 28, 2008

THRILLS, SPILLS, CHILLS!

Well, just "spills," really. Over the past two years, I calculate I've jogged over 1000 miles. So, of course, when I tried to jog 2 blocks to a coffee shop during a work break last Thursday, my ankle twisted under me about fifteen feet into the run. I dropped like a stone. There may have been screaming involved. I cannot confirm rumors of crying like a little girl. I pulled my cell phone from my pocket, called the receptionist and said, "Hey, it's Hudson. I'm about 15 feet outside. Could you send someone to drag me inside?"

So, now I'm wearing a big ol' immobilizing boot on my right foot. I went through something like this two years ago. After my ankle didn't heal after a couple of months, I went in for an MRI and found I had torn two ligaments. So they put this boot on me for three weeks, and after that I was excellent. So, I've decided to just skip the doctor this time around and go straight to the boot. I'm confident it's not broken (it would look much worse it it was - the swelling is almost all gone by now, though it still very tender), so this should do the trick. I just have to spend the next couple of weeks hobbling around.

AHOY MATEYS!

Saturday, Aug 30th, Molly and I (and let's be frank - Buck, too), threw the bitchinest pirate-themed murder mystery party of all time. Buck and I BUILT A GODDAMN PIRATE SHIP in my backyard, complete with a pier, fake water, and ground fog. For her part, Molly just went nuts with the decorations and props. We gave away real swords and daggers as prizes (and rum and games for the pansies who didn't want weapons). We had about 45 people there, and every last blessed one of them came dressed to the nines in their best pirate gear. Pictures attached.

This whole thing took about three weeks to put together (in 100+ degree valley heat - FUCK!)...BUT it was utterly worth it... BUT I told Molly I am *done* with parties for the foreseeable future. If Molly wants another party, she'll just need to convince someone else to throw one, at least until Spring of 2009.

Check out my "Renaissance Superman" outfit! And Molly's, ahem, "pirate chest."


Wednesday, September 10, 2008

Looking Death in the eye, and saying, "Who? Me?"

So, I've been having really really bad headaches for a few days now, and went in to see my new doctor for the first time today. (My old doc up and moved to NYC with his boyfriend/partner. Inconsiderate bastard, trying to be happy.) My new doc was recommended by my old doc, so at least there's that.

Doc: "So, tell me about these headaches."

SV: "Well, they're really bad, they feel like a mule kicking me in the back of the head, they've hit every day for about a week now, and they're brought on by me straining. You know, like a difficult bowel movement, or exercise, or [blush] sex. Then they hit really suddenly, and last for hours."

Doc (blanching slightly): "You, uh, don't say."

SV: "Something wrong, Doc?"

Doc: "Have you ever heard of a little thing called an 'aneurysm'? Tell you what, let's get you a CAT scan."

SV: "Next week? Tomorrow?"

Doc: "I'm thinking more like right fucking now." (Makes a phone call.) "Go to this address. They'll see you in a hour. I'll call you tonight with the results. Don't, um, do anything. Strenuous. At all."

SV: "Whatever you say. You're the doctor. By the way, am I going to die?"

Doc: "I don't think so." (Said in the same tone of voice you might say, "I don't think I left the stove on...") "It's been several days since the headaches first started and you didn't call me, you moron, so you'll probably live, because God protects children and dumbshits."

SV: "Well, alright, then. Talk to you tonight. If, you know, I'm alive. Too-doo-loo."


(Journalistic integrity moment - he didn't actually say "fucking," or call me a moron or dipshit. Other than that, it's a pretty accurate transcription.)


Well, the doctor eventually called me at 9pm to let me know that the CAT scan showed... nothing. No swelling. No bleeding. Not a goddamn thing. So, these incredibly painful headaches that lasted for days (but have now almost completely faded away) were caused by nothing at all. Hurray?

Ah, the miracle of the human body, where excrutiating pain can be created out of thin air. However, the principle of karma says that I should expect to be rewarded wtih several days of unexpected, unexplainable mind-blowing pleasure at some point. It's only fair, right? (People sitting close to me at that point may want to move back. I'm just sayin'.)