Ew, it's all sticky!

Warning: totally random post.

Admittedly, I'm More Girl than I used to be (and trying to accept that that's okay, and maybe not entirely my fault), but I don't sweat like this unless it's August, or I'm doing major physical labor. Our air conditioner's been M-O-O-N spells dead since last night, and it's 85 degrees in here. The repair guy just finished fixing the thing, so I'm on the floor under the vent waiting for it to have some effect.

My mom and sisters are coming down to the Famous Expensive Place I work for at the end of the month again- I got the room booked yesterday. It'll be fun, but I hope I can keep up with them. It's not the speed they move at (I'm faster by myself), but they don't believe in stopping for naps, and I totally do.

Speaking of stamina, I'm to see my nice shrink on Tuesday, cause my meds are pissing me off. I've been trying to make a coherent list of concerns, like Responsible Patients are sposed to do, and no matter how I re-write it, I keep coming to the same conclusion: the drugs help, but maybe I'm just an irritable asshole by nature, and we can't fix that (at least, not if I take genetic examples into consideration). It really sucks when your brainstew is off enough so that researching ways to maybe adjust it makes you hyperventilate. Then again, you try reading about GABA receptors and whatnot when you just wanna know what to try next and see how you feel. Sometimes I wish beer were the answer. :)

Miami Beach STINKS!

Seriously, that was the smelliest town I've EVER been to. I used the restroom in two different places, and they were just horrifying. Lotta hoochies down there, too, even big girls who should've known better. Dan and I parked by a CSI: Miami van, which was just awesome OGP, even though they're different on the show, and saw "The Hulk" to kill time. It was... loud. I had to leave before the end, because my neck med's side effects include panic attacks, and I was having a little bit of a problem, but I don't think I missed much. I like Edward Norton a lot, but I wish his ego didn't screw up half his movies. He's amazing when he's acting instead of soapboxing, and this felt like the latter.

The Eddie Izzard show was... alright. After a small controversy when it was discovered that the row our bloody expensive tickets were for doesn't actually exist (and BOY were those some rude theatre employees), we ended up with good seats about twenty feet from the stage. Eddie's a handsome devil (he has the bluest eyes I've ever seen- hm... well, top three, anyway), and wore his usual jealousy-inducing shoes. He could've used a bit more eyeliner, but the cerise coat lining matching his shirt was quite nice. His tour is only halfway through, so the show is still a bit wonky. The beginning was good- he did very funny bits about playing "air violin" and dinosaurs in church, but... it mind-smelled like he was in a bad mood. It just wasn't as smart as he usually is... re-using the damn giraffes was one thing, but barf jokes?... from Eddie? Really? Come ON! I'm wondering if "The Riches" has affected his normal accent as well as his inclination to do other ones (he didn't do James Mason when he was God, or Sean Connery with the 'hashashins'!), and he was a bit... dickish about Americans, and not in his usual I'm-taking-the-piss kind of way. Maybe the miamismell (would that be a miasma? A miasmi?) had gotten to him, too. Oh, well- it was lovely to finally get to see him live.

My neck is a bit better, but I'm furious that ibuprofen is working after an eighty-five dollar doctor visit for meds that didn't help. I'm feeling very... resigned right now. Disliking yourself sucks, because after all, there's not much choice- you can't say, "You know, I think I'd rather be Carmen Miranda today." Besides, I'm out of fruit.

Remember when Mr Mackey was on drugs...

... and his head swelled up like a balloon? My neck is MESSED UP. It's been getting worse for two days, and now you can see visible lumps in the left side and down into my shoulder, and Dan says it's all bruisey looking up behind my ear, and under my chin's swollen up like mumps, and I'm dizzy, and I keep barfing. Freaky shit- I cannot afford it, but I'm going to the doctor first thing in the morning. I can't figure out how it could be this bad from sleepin' funny last week, but it IS, and it's gotta stop. I got on webmd, like an idiot, and got all freaked out cuz the symptom thingy said I could have meningitis or maybe an aneurysm, and BUMP THAT, I am going to see Eddie in Miami on Saturday if I have to go in a coffin! This is not cool, man...

Holy crap!

1) The plumber actually showed up! Damn, I KNEW I shoulda washed my hair earlier. No tub for a day or so = not fun.

2) The Eddie Izzard tickets came, and they're just beeyootyful. I may sleep with them.

3) "Children of Men" is a damn good movie, but I feel like a doofus for not recognizing Michael Caine (he's up there with Sean Connery in the Ridiculously Hot Old Guys category).

4) I'm sniffin' Bond No 9's New Haarlem today. Started pretty, faded to popcorn, still smells like it 4 hours in. Dan and the plumber (this is a very... er... forward sort of plumber) both like it. It's better than Broadway Nite, which I said- and Dan agreed- smelled like prossies, but not nearly enough better to be the delicious HG I hope to find. My insanely cheap full bottle of Fendi Theorema should arrive today/tomorrow, and I'm in the bidding for cheap-OH Badgley Mischka, so at least I won't smell BORING for the forseeable future. :)

I AM the Emperor Fabulous!

Guess who gets to see Eddie Izzard in Miami on June 14th? MEMEMEMEMEMEME!! I got sweeeeet seats six rows from the stage, too. Hell, yeah!