I took a nap and woke up in 1995. There are girls outside passionately singing along to “You Oughta Know”, which quickly lead to a rousing chorus of the rest of the album. How good are they? Here’s a hint: I was playing Loco Roco at the time, and thought the sounds were coming from my PSP.

(for the non-nerd, Loco Roco has a sound track sung by children in an entirely made-up language)

Today was not one of my best days. I was utterly FOILED at the licensing centre, which made me pout and apparently made my veins disappear. I (luckily, it turned out) forgot about needing to fast before my blood test, so I ended up eating dinner last night around 11pm. I then slept in a lot today because of the huge migraine that festered throughout the night. I dragged myself out of bed – difficult, because I was covered in cats – and prepared myself for Errandpalooza 4th Quarter ’06. I made myself almost superhumanly cute, because my first stop was at the driver’s license centre. I needed to replace mine for two reasons: I moved, and they erroneously assumed I needed glasses without testing me when I got a BC license after moving. The back of it said I required corrective lenses to drive – not true; my glasses are for computer work and reading. I wear them all the time because if I didn’t, I’d forget – and also they’re cute as all hell. Anyway, I don’t always wear them while driving and I sure as hell wouldn’t want to get a ticket for it, so it was off to the Canadian equivalent of the DMV where I WAS UTTERLY FOILED.They wouldn’t let me get a new picture for my license. I’ve had a grand plan for some time now that was to have an official picture taken with flowers in my hair, and today was to be the unleashing. I made myself all cute and fancy and went to ICBC only to be DENIED a new picture for my new license that does not have restriction 21 and my old address on it. FOILED! Jerks. I will have to try once again in 2009, when my license expires. Until then, I’m thinking about putting a flower sticker on my picture.

After my crushing defeat at the hands of the nasty no-picture-taking goons, it was off to the lab to get blood drawn. I hate doing this. It’s not the needle that bothers me, or the fact that they’re going to discover my sordid past and many blood demons; it’s that I have no veins. It always, without fail, takes 3 or 4 attempts before blood comes out of me. Surprising, since I usually bleed at the drop of a hat. At this point I had been fasting for 14 hours and had an incredibly horrible migraine and had to be prodded a number of times before the nurse gave up and decided she would extract my fluids from my hand, using a baby needle. It HURT. Baby needles suck. She finally let me go, and I hastily drove to the nearest semi-edible food source before I passed out. It’s funny – I regularly go much longer than 14 hours without eating or drinking, but as soon as I HAVE to do it, it because this huge arduous task that seems both cruel and unusual. Food in hand, I dragged my carcass back to the apartment and quickly passed out.I didn’t intend to spend most of my day off hiding in a dark room with a cat on my ass, but the pain in my head laid flat my plans for outside. I’m feeling a little better now thanks to some hardcore drugs and the hilarious goings-on outside, so I might make Ed entertain me by going outside for Stuff.