Things that would be super cool:

• the ability to fly
• hover cars
• aqua cars
• a backbone
• if my shoulder would stop clicking
• a pony

I don’t know what’s going on in there, but every few minutes something will click and hurt and be altogether alarming. I’m not even doing anything, it just happens. Ed is taking some serious delight in telling me that I’m going to have to go for physiotherapy, but I think he is just being mean. Shoulders are supposed to click, right? It’s nothing to worry about; I’m just evolving into a higher life form. It’s Darwinism, yo. Adapt or go extinct. That’s all.

I just received a random text messages that said “be ready for overnight rescue”. A noble thought – who *doesn’t* need an overnight rescue now and again – but I am unclear as to who the sender is, and what they may be rescuing me from. There are definitely things that I need rescuing from, but it’d be nice if I got a say in who the rescuer was. In fact, it’d be super cool. I should add it to the list up there.

I am on hold with Paypal and it is totally awesome. I purchased something online, but when I finally received the package it was missing an item. No big deal, I thought. I also found that I wanted to return one item, and exchange another – all part of the fun when buying clothing online. Thing is, the company wouldn’t return my calls or reply to my emails. I tried to reach them for over a week and a half, and got nowhere – so I opened a Paypal dispute. It took them an additional week or so to respond to it, and since then I’ve been fed a bunch of hooey about how they can’t issue me a refund (I’m seeking a refund for the item I didn’t receive, plus returning the items I DID get because I don’t even want to deal with these asshats anymore) via Paypal; they have to send me a check in the mail. I called today and got clarification that this is a load of crap – so I’m going to escalate my dispute and try to get a complete refund through Paypal and not a stupid check that’ll take god knows how long to get here. I hate being lied to, and I hate being dicked around. You can’t give me my money until I close the dispute, you say? Gosh, that’s funny how that works, because if I close the dispute I can’t open another one, and nothing but your word that you’ll give me my money back. I should obviously just trust you, right? You’ve been so very professional so far!

Grr. If any of you wake up fat and female tomorrow, don’t buy clothes from Size Appeal dot com. They are teh super sux.

Ow, my shoulder.

Everything is still insane, and thinking about it just makes me tired. How tired? About this tired:

I know; I have totally awesome bed hair.

Sasha is indignant at Ed’s amusement. Me, I’m just happy something is covering my eyes to block out the light.

Delicious Juice Dot Com will return after these messages, by which I mean tomorrow morning. I hope you’ve enjoyed this week of non-updates; I promise to return to my two-armed wordy self starting tomorrow or else.

I’ve missed you, internet!

Some random Tuesday morning thoughts that didn’t make it into the morning update:

• God hates me, a fact that was confirmed by a perfect stranger. We spent last last Saturday out and about the town, and ended up on the beach where there were dogs a-plenty. Since I still don’t have a pug, I asked Ed (as I do 4 times a day), “Why don’t I have a pug yet?”

Ed: “Because God hates you.”

Random Stranger walking by, laughing: “He does, too!”

Hmpf.

• I need idea for a thank-you gift. Our space station is moving at the end of this month, and I’d like to get a little something for the daytime employees at the 7-11 across the street. Since I started working here last March, I’ve been in the 7-11 at least a once a day five days a week to use their ice machine. Sometimes I buy Diet Coke or a snack, but most of the time I don’t – I just want ice. They’ve been more than accepting of the weird ice girl who usually brings her own cup but is okay with paying for one if she didn’t and regardless of the weather outside always seems to need a giant cup full of ice. In fact, on the days I’m NOT there, they ask where I’ve been because they’re just that used to my ice-stealing ways. Since we’re moving out of the neighbourhood (and, I’m told, getting a new fridge with an ice maker in it), I want to say thank you for all the ice I’ve stolen from them over the course of the last 14 months. What says “so long, and thanks for all the ice”? They’re a 7-11, so out of the question are things like generic chocolate bars, gummy candy, discount sushi, or hot dogs. Are flowers a good generic group thank you? Booze? A stripper wearing tassels that say “THANK” and “YOU”, respectively? Help me out, here. I need ideas.

• My uterus has a truly horrible sense of humour – my period is 5 days early. It’s not enough that I’m broken and wounded and I can’t wipe my butt if I wanted to – now I get to figure out how to work tampons with my wrong hand. This should be totally awesome and in no way hilarious in that incredibly uncomfortable way, like the locker room scene in Carrie.

Plug it up, indeed.

Operation: Laziest Sunday Ever is going as planned; I have yet to leave the bed except to pee and to fetch the internet.

It’s more than my desire to emulate the noble sloth that keeps me in bed today. Following my standard MO after a hospital visit, I’ve completely over-exerted myself this weekend and am trying to regain some of my mobility before I have to face the real world tomorrow morning. I’m really, really bad at following orders – I was told to “take it easy”, and yet this is the first time since my stint in the ER that I’ve really spent any time resting. I’m not very bright, but gosh DARN it I’m cute.

Friday was a holiday here, so we spent the day running some errands and going to the beach for a walk. It was warm but overcast, and we had some fun taking pictures and walking along the sand. I found treasure! I’m too lazy (and don’t have enough mobility in my right arm) to link to the pictures directly, but scroll down to my Flickr stream and have a looksee. It’s a ring! I have a bad habit of looking at the ground when I walk, mostly because I am incredibly clumsy and am looking for things that might trip me up but also because I am shy. On the beach though, it was entirely because I was terrified I’d trip on sand and take another header – so I walked looking down. I found some pretty rocks and shell fragments, and then .. hey, a ring. I picked it up – it had been in the sand/water for a LONG time; I found it near the water when the tide was out and it had sand and rocks embedded in it. I showed the gang, who thought it was costume jewellery until I turned it over and saw the 14K stamp on the inside of the ring. Hee! Treasure! Looking down is awesome. I cleaned it up when we got home and took some pictures. I looked online for any lost ring posts, but nothing – it had been there for a while, and who knows where it was originally lost. I might get it appraised, because while pretty it’s not really my style – it’d be interesting at the very least to see what it’s worth. Treasure is awesome.

I spent Saturday morning cleaning, until Ed got up to help me. I wasn’t doing a very good job cleaning – in fact, I made more of a mess than when I started – but we managed to get the house in a livable state again. The afternoon took us outside – Bobbie was in town! We watched her get a tattoo, and I got an impromptu piercing. The original plan was for me to get inked as well, but we were short on time and I was short on free arms, so I was there for moral support. The piercing was spur of the moment – I just closed up a hole on my face and I wanted to celebrate my dislocated shoulder, so hey let’s get pierced. I’ve wanted a labret for a long time; since about 2000 – so I got one. It feels a little weird but looks neat, I think. I’ll take pictures later when I’m a little more presentable.

After tattoos and face holes, the group of 9 of us went to Lonsdale Quay for dinner at this little Asian Fusion place that I forget the name of but is now my very favourite place to eat. The food was unreal and cheap and soooooo good – we all ate ourselves stupid, then descended upon Starbucks for caffeine. At this point I was hurting pretty bad, so we bid Bobbie and her crew good night and stumbled back to our place at the oh-so late hour of 10pm – we are really lame but I am wounded so it’s okay.

And that brings us to Sunday. I am in bed, Ed is watching some sort of manly sports, and Sasha is alternating between sneaking on to my lap, eating things she shouldn’t be eating, and growling at the other cats. All is good. My arm hurts, my face hurts, and Ed is about to peel me a potato. This is totally the life.

As of Saturday morning, there is one less hole in my head.

I finally removed my nose piercing. I’ve had it since August of 1998, but it’s never been anything that I felt defined who I am. People don’t tend to remember me because my nose is pierced; there are a thousand other aspects of my appearance or personality that jump out first, if at all. The wee piece of metal in my nose was always just there – it existed, sometimes it hurt, most of the time it didn’t. It just .. was.

This spring has been a particularly brutal one. There are a lot more trees in this area compared to our place in East Vancouver; I’m sure that has a lot to do with my ongoing hay fever (or as I like to call it, “nose herpes”). The extra pollen in the air coupled with my regular everyday allergies have made a mockery of my defense systems, and no amount of medication I can take is making any of my orifii leak any less. I’m a walking bag of mucous. Who wants to make out!

I think I’ve been rubbing my nose in my sleep, because there’s a very painful scabby thing on the inside of my nose that directly corresponds to where the post of my nose stud lands if I were to smoosh my nose inward. After spending most of Friday afternoon trying to hide the tissue I had stuffed up my nostril in an attempt to stop the bleeding, I finally had enough. I removed the stud to give my face a good scrubbin’, then .. just didn’t put it back in. I’m done. I want my nose to heal. I’m tired of mystery scabs that hurt when I wiggle my nose while trying to see if I have powers like Samantha in Bewitched. I’m sure I’ll miss having a pierced nose at some point – hell, I still regret removing my tongue bar, 5 years later – but for now, I’m going to enjoy being able to scratch my nose and not being jabbed and also being able to exfoliate ALL my face without having to scrub around that side of my nose. It will be awesome.

I am going to try to have a No Plastic Bag week. As of 11:15am on Monday morning, I am totally winning the race.

I am so lame. I have the house to myself, so I’m doing some cleaning. I put on some music to clean to, and it just happened to be a CD full of wistful emo-lite – so now I’m sniffly sad with nostalgia while I clean off my computer desk. Seriously, I’m all welly in the eyes. I am SO LAME! I think I’ll put on some of Ed’s epic dragon metal instead, so I’ll be full of righteous chivalry for orc-slaying and elven romance instead of deeply sad about the state of my desk.

I’m having a crisis of glamour:

Is this a viable look for me? I’m having a very bad hair day and my headache dictates that I do not wear a hat unless I want to spend the day flinching at bright lights and sounds. I have a feeling I look like someone’s Ukranian grandmother – perhaps Ed’s – and I’m getting a complex about it.

Here is a side view:

Help!