Well, here I am again, leg still taped to a vacuum. On Friday, when the hole was inspected by The (professional) Meat Packers of the wound care clinic, there was much to be positive about. The hole is really only the size now of the wound opening, which is a huge decrease in size. yippee. I am ready for this to be over and done with. Yet, the vac continues to suck, and I continue to saunter into work in shorts and sandals. It never ends.
I'm grumpy, and here's why:
TBRU (Texas Bear Round Up)
is happening RIGHT NOW in Dallas. 800 furry men at the Crown Plaza hotel, including just about every friend I have here in Austin, except Bob. Me and Bob. (heavy sigh!)
Got a phone call from Rich, filling me in on all the hoopty-do and thanking me for letting them take my room. I was delighted to help.
See, I know I did the right, adult thing by cancelling the trip. My leg needs to be my focus. If I were up there, I'd be running all over town, up on the leg all day. That wouldn't help the healing process. So, in a way, I'm proud of myself for doing the right thing, but I can't help but groan about missing out.
By the way, it was one year ago this weekend that I first met Rich and Dave. They are two friends who I am very, very grateful have come into my life. I feel like I've known them forever, and the fact is, that I'm still getting to know them. Weird, huh?
I spent some time both Friday night and Saturday with Bob. He says he is doing well, but is having severe leg cramping issues. He sees his doctor on the 28th to figure out what is going on. I'm worried about him.
I don't know about your corner of the world, but Spring has hit Texas, baby, full force! And what that means is, for the next 4 weeks the landscape of the central Texas area is awash in color from the indigenous wildflowers here. It's really beautiful, and will be completely over in a mere month's time. Yes, flowers don't last long in the baking Texas sun, but we enjoy them while we have them.
"Rehab" by Amy Winehouse
is loaded onto my jukebox at the top of the page. If you haven't heard it, be sure and open the playlist and doubleclick on the song to play it. Maybe it's the whole Britney Spears' thing that coincides with this song that endears it to me. Maybe it's my own trip to rehab. All I know is that I love it. I follow it on the jukebox with my favorite Britney cover. Enjoy!
Okay, one last thing I have to get off my chest and then I'm done for now:
Dildo Idol is an abortion of a tv show, and if you watch it, you should be seriously ashamed of yourself. I won't go into detail about why I despise it, but I can link you to a post that I wrote about it last year here.
What I am furious about now is that people are waking up to the fact that it is utter crap, yet are continuing to tune in to see if the skinny twink-ass, pre-op tranny bottom boy is still in the running. Of COURSE he is, damnit! The fact that he SUCKS doesn't matter! He has already proven that he couldn't hum a tune during a blowjob, yet the fact that you are tuning in MAKES HIM A BIGGER STAR. Trust me, the producers of the show are squealing with delight that this buttboi continues to get votes from braindead, sobbing teenyboppers, to mis-guided Howard Stern fucktards. At this point, thanks to all the talk, this kid will get a record deal whether he wins or not, and his overly-plucked eyebrow will be staring at me from the magazine rack at the grocery store checkout line for years to come. Thanks a lot, America!
The fact that I even know this clit's name frightens the hell outta me.
If you have had enough of the sick joke that this disgusting program is PLEASE turn your televisions off and stop talking about it. I'm begging you.