Blastoff! With Captain Blastin

Yay normal Louie episode!

Louie’s goin’ on a date.

LOUIE LOUIE LOUIE LOUIEEEE…

LOUIE LOUIE LOUIE LOU-IIIII…

LOUIE LOUIE LOUIE LOUIEEEEE…

LOUIE LOUIE YOU’RE GONNA DIIIIIIE….

…too late to stop it, isn’t it?

Was really excited to make/eat pierogies. Seasoned pot, filled pot with water, boiled… went to freezer to get pierogies. Realized, never bought pierogies.

Now making tortellini.

Haven’t done this in a while.

I’d say that the question asking, “This term means swimming in the nude, whether you’re fat or thin…” (skinny dipping, of course) takes the cake.

Francesa arguing with caller… and he’s totally right.

…until he said Rivera was better than Jeter.  Derp.

…about people who can’t be bothered to be more clever than coming up with profiles that are either a. entirely dumb jokes b. asking me to teach them how to dougie c. anti-something-people-can’t-change (height, ethnicity) d. just boring.

It’s real easy to ignore these folks, so thanks for pointing yourselves out.

“Do not message me if you would ever consider being a vegetarian.”

Smacks into the wall, misses the ball, and then stands there, shaking his head like “aw maaaaan.”

So mad that they’re going to try and get an anti gay marriage referendum on the ballot!

In 2015!

Someone who’s closer to Robbie George tell him to get the hell away from this foolishness. I can’t respect the man while he does this shit. Can’t respect him at all.

I think I’m actually going to make use of my mother having a nice house and go there a few times this summer.

#firstworldproblemsandsolutions

Last year’s ride from 137 to 96 and back to the 1 at chambers then to south ferry invariably took 40-45 minutes. I got from 96 on the 6 to 86 and then to bowling green in 25 minutes. I love the west side, but I do not miss those trains. I am also remarkably rested for having woken up at 630. Things I have learned: I do not need to read the recap of the yankee game I watched in real time before I go to sleep. Going to bed before 12 does not make me weak. But anyway, yeah, it seems every day I get on the 6 (including yesterday), there’s a problem on the 1, 2, 3 being announced. I do not miss it. I always liked this ferry ride too. Getting excited to be a teacher again (officially on monday)!

No one thinks that shit is cute.

I can’t believe schools think this horrible squeaky thing needs to be given to children who are already plenty loud.

Wow, they really brought back the whole 1996 team. Charlie Hayes? Why?

Heh, cute.

I love when one of the semi-celebs I follow tweets something to another one of them, even if they’re in totally different realms (like an AV Club writer and Rob Neyer just now).

Staff photo includes no minorities. I am shocked, shocked I say.

A notebook in which I planned my (navel-gazing, silly) first novel back in 07.

Cool thing about watching sitcom reruns is that season-ending cliffhangers are resolved in… nine minutes!

SHIT! They only own the first four seasons, so I’ll never know.

…for many reasons. Check this space monday.

So, part of my contract in Korea involved a yearly checkup and blood (read: drug) test. My most recent test was for that was in January of 09.

When I came home I had money but no insurance. When I got into school, I got insurance, but didn’t have much money. I put off getting a check-up to focus on other things.

At the same time, if you remember from, uh, knowing me, I stopped drinking soda, I cut out 80% of my bread and rice intake, I cut down on the cheese and milk, and I upped the cardio to where I’m now running about 14 miles a week and lifting the other five days.

So when my teaching semester ended in April (soon to begin again next week..), and my grad school semester ended in May, I decided I needed a dental cleaning/checkup and a doctor checkup too. Just after Reunions (this is key), I went to the dentist down the block (who said my teeth were fine, and that I should floss more, which I now do every day), and then the doctor, who called me the next day to say everything was fine, all my organs functioning well, but.. I had a slightly low white blood cell count and that I should see a hematologist.

AHHHHH. You never want to be referred to an “ologist” unless it’s routine (ie, ladies and gynos, acne and derma, etc). I asked the person on the phone if it was likely I was seriously ill, and they said, “No, not likely.”

Took some hoops, but the appointment was today (June 23rd). In this time I have sort of ignored this, knowing I felt fine.

I don’t like hospitals. Who does?

So when I walked into Mt. Sinai, where my sister was born, I was nervous. When it turned out that my doctor’s name was listed under both hematology and oncology, I was more nervous.

I had to wait silently for a while. They took some more blood, and then I sat, heart pounding, wondering if all my hard work for health would be for naught. What about that time I did that thing, maybe that would be the death of me? What about when I ate that thing, maybe it lodged in me and I’m infected? What if I’ve been watching too much “House?”

Nurse took me back to the doctor’s room. He wasn’t there. She asked why I came in, I explained I was referred because my white blood cell count was low. But that I didn’t feel sick or in pain at all. She said precisely the right thing, which is that someone she knew felt nothing but turned out to have cancer. Again, precisely what I wanted to hear.

Doctor came in. Old man, maybe 75. So busy he only managed a few sentences at a time before he had to keep handling other things, including a phone call that involved “blood clot” and “cerebellum.”

Finally, he asked why I was there, I said white blood cells, he said, that the test today said they were perfectly normal.

Phew.

He took some history, and, before giving me a quick exam, he asked what I had been doing right before that checkup on June 1st. I thought silently, he asked, “Were you drinking?”

Aha. So, apparently, drinking at Reunions-levels, standing in the sun all day, drinking five cups of coffee, not sleeping, and other complications, will decrease your white blood cell count enough to make a doctor refer you to a specialist.

The doctor gave me a once-over, which, because of my earring, included an amusing  babble about which ear would be gay, and how he gets a lot of patients who are having sex with both men and women, “but,” he said, “if that’s what ya want, that’s what ya want,” which, can’t argue with that. Goofy, nice, old man.

He laid me down, did the doctor thing and checked out the goods and then said, “Get out of here, you’re perfectly fine.”

So what did I learn? Reunions is very bad for your health. Or, more accurately, do not get a checkup right afterwards next time, genius. (It ain’t like I’m not going to my fifth!)

Also: I’m healthy. And entirely so. Yay!

This deserves a drink! (Oh, wait, isn’t this how I got into this in the first place..?)

I just watched a commercial called “This moment in Patriotism.”

The good thing about being really far ahead of my professors is that I have my weekends free. The bad thing is that they like to go and change things because I’m the only doofus who’s finished with the Unit on the second day.

When I come across a Princeton person on OKC, there is no guarantee that we’ll be listed as matching well.

But when I run into a St. Ann’s person, we’re always listed as good matches. Funny how that happens.