Stop Making Sense

Welcome to day 6 of my headache. I thought I was feeling well enough to finally type out some of the mad thoughts bouncing around in my head. Because whenever there is a lull in the migraine pain, my brain always perks right up thinking it time to get busy! Doesn’t care if its 2 in the morning when the meds and sleep have finally done their job, if the pain is gone, the brain does a few warm up stretches and gets to work! “Let’s think about next semester’s classes, write a few emails, hey – how about a blog post?!” Stupid brain.

But now that I’m here in front of my computer, all I want to know is why I can’t change the “page” in Office to a nice 18% gray instead of white. Cause my eyes are watering and I’m thinking maybe I should just go back to bed.

OK, I went and got my sunglasses. That should give me just enough time to tell you that on Tuesday, day 1 of the HeadacheWeekFromHell-Oct08, during a telephone call with the Sain’t, I told him that I hoped a pony would poop on his shoe. Don’t mess with me when I’m in pain yo.

And then on Friday I sent my family to Santa Cruz without me. And it wasn’t a ‘happy happy joy joy I’m all alone for a weekend’ stay behind. And that pisses me off. But anger hurts my head so I was stuck with being sad all weekend.

The End.

But come back and I’ll tell you how my sick brain can connect Rachel Zoe with William Burroughs!

Olympic migraines*

So, we arrive in Santa Cruz last night and my in-laws were watching the opening ceremonies for the Beijing Olympics. Cool. We unloaded the car (ok, Chris unloaded the car) and settled in in front of Bob’s big screen TV. We had missed a lot of it, but what we saw was pretty awesome. But then came the Parade of Nations. And all I have to say is wtf Olympics? Why are all those wonderful athletes forced to dress like color-blind airline employees? Didn't the women look like flight attendants? And what is with all the hats? Is there some kind of un-written Olympic rule that you have to not only wear some god awful suit-like attire in hideous colors, but you must top it with a jaunty hat?! Are fedoras the national chapeau of 90% of the countries on this planet? How did I miss that little tidbit of trivia? And some of those patterns caused me to want to poke my eyes out. I pretty sure Hungary was trying to kill me!

It was getting late, but we stayed up long enough to see the US team, who looked rather subdued with their navy blazers, white slacks, and obligatory caps. At least the women weren’t forced into skirts and ugly pumps. God bless America.

I was informed that the US team’s outfits were designed by Ralph Lauren. So there you go. And suddenly I began to twitch. For I too was once forced to wear Ralph Lauren by an evil overlord. Or the co-owner of the Rattlesnake Club in Detroit, who was from California, and wore ocelot boots to the grand opening. The staff at the new riverfront restaurant had to wear pink button-down Polo shirt, khakis, deck shoes and a very colorful bowtie. I’m wondering if there wasn’t a belt too, one that might have matched the bowtie. Either way, we sure looked dandy. I’m surprised those preppy threads didn’t give me a rash.

The Sain’t, me, and several of our friends were part of the original staff when the restaurant opened 20 years ago. And the only reason I know the actual year is that last month Kim told the Sain’t that she was going to attend the restaurant’s 20 year anniversary celebration. And this is where we again encounter “bad math”. Math that ages me. Math that if done properly states that I was 22 years old when I worked there. Sweet mother of Barry Gibb how did I get this old?!

And to place you squarely in 1988, the music piped into the restaurant was a mix of Roxy Music and Sade. Suh-weet.


*Although I have had headaches the last 2 mornings, I’m happy to report they were not even close to Olympic in size or grandeur. More like a small regional qualifying events at best.

Why I’m not a doctor.

I’ve decided that my Cough ™ is construction induced. As soon as they finish the re-model of the bathrooms in my office building, I will be cured! And if things do not work out that way I’m gonna be very displeased.

I’ve also recently diagnosed my migraines as a casualty of the constant battle between the right and left sides of my brain. A cruel and gory battle to determine which hemisphere will reign supreme! The Artist or the Geek. I really am a conundrum.

Now I must admit that I can never remember which side does what, so I’ll have to look it up. Be right back…

Interesting.
This was the first page I open after a Google search:
http://www.web-us.com/BRAIN/LRBrain.html *
And now I know that it was my right hemisphere that was in tears in Chemistry class. Damn moles. I ‘got’ the math; I just wanted to know why I was doing it!

And then I took 2 different “Hemisphere Dominance Tests” and got a different result for each test! Either I am extremely well balanced, or I’m screwed up beyond measure! Actually there were some questions with both answers were right. So the battle rages on…

And I know that both halves of my brain are working together, and that every person has a dominant side, and this is not the reason for my headaches. But I like the imagery of an epic battle in my head. Migraines that are just hormonal, let-down or stress-related aren’t very exciting are they? Semi-predictable and boring and forever pissing me off, but nothing to write home about.

* Hey - the geek in me wants you to know that I could break down this url into all its parts for you thanks to Chapter 2 of the textbook from hell. Or I could draw you a diagram...