Join me at my new digs!

To dig it up further …

• 6 years old - Leyla gets the flu when her old neighbor and childhood best friend makes plans to visit from her end of Akron, Ohio to where we lived a year later (the other end of Akron). I witnessed my brother, her and her brother getting picked up to go do something fun and amazing, leaving me behind to blankets, snot rags, and my mother’s gross Iranian chicken soup. (it’s not really gross, but I thought so at the time).
• 14 years old - Leyla gets the stomach flu when her relatives fly in from Germany and for the first time ever, my mother voluntarily wants to get a group together and go to Disneyland. This NEVER happens. I spent the majority of that visit sleeping next to the bathroom, shivering and guessing the fun being had at It’s A Small World without me.
•  21 years old -Leyla gets sick just before a planned trip to Maui.

Let me remind you, I have not one … but THREE “Best in Attendance” certificates from various points in my lower education years. This is not a coincidence, this is my luck. I only get sick, where or when there is fun to be had. It’s FACT.

So, when I began having symptoms of ailness last weekend, I denied it. I got home from Mike Fischer’s birthday party to a fever, after getting drunk and having spent the majority of the early morning at Del Taco on  Washington and Lincoln. The sore throat was apparent, the coughing an indication of my situation. But the next day I got up, put on a shiny dress, drew eyeliner on my puffy eyelids and suited up for a big family celebration - my brother’s engagement party.

Oh wow … I was definitely the gross one. I had a lung full of mucus and God knows what else, my nose was a incessant faucet of germs, but God damn it … I was gonna show face at this event. I even had originally tried to organize it, but the fever kicked it high gear the morning of.

Fine. I’ll be sick. But only one day off. I just needed good rest… and the rest would work out fine.

And it did… the cough went away, the throat was all better. Nevermind I had zero sense of smell or taste, but i could drop about 20 lbs … so all in all, not bad.

Oh, and here’s the other thing about being sick. All the important people you never see on a normal basis roll into town and have appointments booked from weeks or months ago. So that’s always fun too. Hacking up smurfs while you try to get your Japanese business partner an espresso is unique. Especially considering the culture itself has such an aversion to germs, they were medical masks on a regular basis out of COURTESY.

Did you want some cinnamon on that <<COUGH>>… let me get you another one. (FUCK ME).

Well that’s it. I’m better. I paid my one week in dues. I negotiated with my nose ever leg of that duration. I was mostly losing, but I figured sooner or later I’d sneak in a dry day or two. After all, I’m young - relatively healthy.

oh no… oh no no no no.

Day 8 of my cold:

Wake up to seething pain behind my eyes. What’s left of them feels like I should be able to pop them out with a spoon for relief , but that fantasy is not possible. Movement is hell. I bend down to grab something off the coffee table - BAM … I feel like my head has exploded… only an explosion would at least mean some relief.

No … this is hell. This is the type of shit people at Guantanamo should really get. So I go through the Medieval tactics I hear from everyone.

• “Steam your face… with one of these things 1)eucalyptus - cuz, you know … I can just grab that in LA 2) Vic’s Vapor Rub … which turned out the best actually, but I was so plugged I couldnt’ event smell it 3) Chamomile tea - which I suppose was nice, but again … it could have been Earl Grey… I felt nothing.
• Saline in the nose, my dad’s personal favorite. And yes, when it’s close to 9% salt… it should theoretically be same pH as your blood … but it’s still friggin’ gross. Not to mention tasting salt in the back of your throat that just passed through your sinus system is ucky.
• rub your temples … well, unless these fingers could surgically go into my skull and actually push the mucus away, I don’t care for it.

Finally, the ER was needed. And let me tell you something. I was literally KIDNAPPED and taken there. When you have a 79 year old retired doctor for a father, this is like his month’s highlight. Him being a neurosurgeon … he actually gets off on reading Cat Scans. My dad and I spend 4.5 “cheerful” hours at the Torrance Memorial Emergency Room waiting to basically confirm what he knows.

I finally get the CT, and another hour later … a doctor finally sees me.

“It’s amazing you’re even standing. Half your sinuses are completely filled with fluid.”

Awesome.

“We’re getting you on steroid inhaler and Vicodine  for the pain. But you’ll need to see an ENT for a follow up.”
So that is basically it. My dad insisted for the confirmation, and probably to get all medical again and see my head’s xray which socializing with the local radiologist. But I have chronic Sinusitis .. .woo hoo. I’m on a steroid inhaler, strong antibiotics, and Vicodine if I can handle it. But all in all I just want to get back to my life. I’ve been indoors for the past week, I can barely even go over a speed bump without cupping my left eye as if that would provide any relief. And finally, to complete the full cycle … big projects and events are coming up for me at work. And naturally I have to be at home sick… on the few days that I REALLY wish I wasn’t.

So thank you everyone who called/texted/emailed me to check up. I’m even more grateful for my disturbingly over protective family and best friend/room mate.

I would do it… you know I’d do it. I would go into the office with a fucking humidifying strapped to my chest if you didn’t pull me back.

Andora Bunny

retro fashion from the Web Urbanist

Obama’s birth certificat faked?

Vivitar releasing new retro line of digicams!

I’m cheating a little on you with my work blog. But I swear, it’s nothing personal, it’s just professional. Also, I’m in the midst of booking about 3.5 trips. (I say .5 because one trip is up to SF, and that doesn’t count).

Heading up to SF for Amy’s bridal party, and then we’re going to FMX Stuttgart for work duties. After a quick jaunt to Europe, I’m making it down south to Columbia and Peru.

Whew… barely gonna make it this spring. Oh, and on the agenda, since things have been so non-busy, I’m moving to Venice!

This month, I’m into Sam Riley.  He’s the guy who played Ian Curtis in Control, and is set to be a main actor in Franklyn.

Control is the story of Joy Division, and something I am killing myself daily for not watching yet. As  I am obsessed with almost all things New Order or Joy Division, and I adored 24 Hour Party People. If you don’t know Joy Division, then I refuse to know you and you don’t get a link either.

While sexy , I know, this is generally not something I enjoy being a nose sensitive weirdo. I mean, everyone knows that even when I smoke, I irritangingly waft the air away trying to make sure I don’t smell.

Now most Japanse dishes make you stink. Teppenyaki, noodle bars, and even the Korean BBQs ( though that I won’t blame the Japanese for). However, nothing is as bad as Japanese Hot Pot.

I enjoyed this little wonder of a dish back in March of last year when we held a Houdini Usergroup meeting at a hotpot restaurant in Tokyo. Well now, it seems that there has come a twist in this eating phenomenon.

Collegen Hot Pots???

Across the country, a growing number of “beauty” restaurants are specifically devoted to serving collagen hot pots in which clear chunks of the translucent tasteless protein are melted into a medley of vegetables, meat or fish.

 www.weburbanist.com - “Urban design. culture. travel” , this is my type of place. I discovered this site while in Singapore doing some interesting Google searching. Their posts are clever and boast interesting design and art that definitely pull you close to your monitor. The one I like most recently is Art of War: 20 Awesome Gun and Bullet Artworks.

www.cutethingsfallingasleep.org - Because this inevitably holds you back from having to bother YouTubing or Googling finding sleeping otters. Check out the sleeping baby polar bear … it’s my fave!

News in the World:

The Greek Riots - Call it the Rodney King for Zorbo, or whatever. You have to be living under an American rock if you didn’t hear about the weeks of riots sparked by the accidental death of 15 year old boy.

The French take control of their media - by banning Prime Time advertising. Pretty steep move there Sarkozy!

 

News in Technology:

Apple has the last MacWorld - bla bla bla, Steve Jobs has a hormone imbalance. More importantly… welcome the new MacBook Wheel.

Apple Introduces Revolutionary New Laptop With No Keyboard

It’s about time! - WiFi hits the airlines as Delta pushes along plans.

Only, we still missed it. I toasted with a giant carrot cake I bought from Trader Joe’s, and when I licked the cream cheese frosting from the spoon (merely minutes from having defrosted), I realized that this may have been the most unique way I have ever spent a New Year’s evening.

I remember stepping into satin heels that I cursed, thinking “why the fuck am I dressing up for you fools anyways?” .. but I did it because it was an excuse to wear my satin shoes, for the 2nd and likely last time of their existence in my possesion.

Resolutions:

1. blog more
2. take Ollie on more walks
3. possibly date
4. eat less white carbs
5. improve posture
6. grow out hair
7. resist the rolling of eyes around family
8.  read better quality stuff , less trash fiction
9. be nicer to myself
10. curb cynicism… just a little at least

Recently, the French decided to adapt the “Yes We Can” Obama campaign motto.

I find it ironic that despite the years of hatred for Bush, their distaste for general American lifestyle, and their seemingly more progressive perception of who could be in high office (no problems with Chirac’s mistress, current Prez marrying a model/musician while in office) the French are , dare I say, trying to immitate the classless Americans?

 ”We shouldn’t be surprised that Obama’s popularity is so high here: It testifies to the aspirations of all the children of France who are experiencing by proxy a recognition that France does not give them,” the manifesto reads. “It also betrays the bad faith of those who welcome the victory of modernity outside our borders, in order to tolerate the status quo here.”

Well, I remember being in a manor in Quimiac France , outside on the lawn in a flower dress, celebrating the day one of my closest friends got marrie.

Could you explain why you voted for that man? We’re all so shocked! He’s already turned down many measures internationally to help the environment!

I swear, I swear I defeneded myself. More importantly, I swore it happened due to corruption and fluke.

I promis you, that man will not get re-elected.

Fast forward 4 years …. FUCK.

I remember my first trip to Toronto for work. A cabbie picked me up with a collegue after a night out at a bar. He was African, and when he learned we were American, he almost wanted to refuse to take us to our destination.

What is it about Bush that made foreigners seem to hate us or feel so puzzled by our decisions? Somehow I felt that despite my actions and my choices, I was somehow lumped in with a segment that felt the enviroment was 2nd par, God only mattered, and spreading “freedom” was the sole purpose of our Nation’s being.

Well now I can call it out. Finally, when I tell them I’m American, there’s someone to be proud of.

That’s right France, I’m coming back for you. Didn’t your president marry a model? Pshhh.