It seems highly unlikely, but maybe my migraines are being caused by something like this.
I hope not, though, because the doctors who were unable to properly diagnose that dude's problem four years ago deserve to have the title of Stupidest Doctors on the Face of the Planet all to themselves.
February 18, 2011
February 15, 2011
Why I'm waiting until (at least) tomorrow for those tattoos and piercings
I'm just about an hour away from my first-ever visit to the inside of an MRI.
I understand that metal objects and recently inked tattoos don't really get along very well with MRI machines, so I'm thankful that I recently made the decision to not get my nose pierced, and that I managed to go another year without a tattoo. (I had been thinking about getting one that replicated the design of the snazziest t-shirt I've ever designed, which you can find here.)
Anyway, I'm going in to get my brain scanned, which makes me think that tomorrow, I'll be quoting Dizzy Dean a lot. In 1934, the pitcher, then with the St. Louis Cardinals, was hit in the head by a baseball while trying to break up a double play, and suffered a concussion. After his trip to the hospital, he reportedly said, "They x-rayed my head and found nothing."
I understand that metal objects and recently inked tattoos don't really get along very well with MRI machines, so I'm thankful that I recently made the decision to not get my nose pierced, and that I managed to go another year without a tattoo. (I had been thinking about getting one that replicated the design of the snazziest t-shirt I've ever designed, which you can find here.)
Anyway, I'm going in to get my brain scanned, which makes me think that tomorrow, I'll be quoting Dizzy Dean a lot. In 1934, the pitcher, then with the St. Louis Cardinals, was hit in the head by a baseball while trying to break up a double play, and suffered a concussion. After his trip to the hospital, he reportedly said, "They x-rayed my head and found nothing."
February 7, 2011
I've Got Reservations*
My aunt and uncle are coming to L.A. next month. The other day, to ensure that I was aware of every possible detail I might need to know about their travel plans as well as some I might not - and, possibly, to give me some kind of guilt trip for not having an apartment with a second bedroom - my aunt forwarded the hotel's reservation confirmation email.
I wasn't sure what she intended for me to do with the information. (Make a note of the last four digits of her credit card number, maybe?) But I decided I'd use it as an opportunity to write back and reinforce the notion that I am Very Excited about her visit.
To that end, I sent a one-word response: "Awesome!"
I thought that would probably be the end of the conversation. I was mistaken.
A few minutes later, a reply arrived. "Hardly," it read. "A much overused word, I'm afraid!"**
There was only one thing to write back: "Is 'Whatever' overused?"
* Post title inspired by this Wilco song.
** Capitalization corrected to improve readability.
I wasn't sure what she intended for me to do with the information. (Make a note of the last four digits of her credit card number, maybe?) But I decided I'd use it as an opportunity to write back and reinforce the notion that I am Very Excited about her visit.
To that end, I sent a one-word response: "Awesome!"
I thought that would probably be the end of the conversation. I was mistaken.
A few minutes later, a reply arrived. "Hardly," it read. "A much overused word, I'm afraid!"**
There was only one thing to write back: "Is 'Whatever' overused?"
* Post title inspired by this Wilco song.
** Capitalization corrected to improve readability.
February 1, 2011
Why I'm pretty sure Juliette Binoche hates Yugos: A dream illustrated with helpful links
As if you needed further proof that my brain just does not shut down - even when I'm sleeping - I have been having some wacky dreams lately. Often two the same night. I've been visited during the night by celebrities, strangers, and people I grew up with but haven't seen or thought about in 23 years.
Oh sure, there are the common, everyday dreams that everyone has - like the one last week, in which I came off the bench to hit a few clutch baskets for the Bulls in the seventh game of the Eastern Conference finals. But, unlike that one, most are completely unrealistic.
It could be that this new dream activity is related to the new herbal extract pills that I'm taking in an attempt to do something about those migraine headaches I wrote about a few weeks ago. I haven't read the little pamphlet that comes with the supplement to try to figure out what the possible side effects are, but I did look it up on Wikipedia, which is usually a pretty trustworthy source for Medical Information You Can Trust, and there was no mention of side effects, so I'm sure I'm in the clear.
Anyway, last night's dream was another winner.
For some reason, Juliette Binoche, the lovely French actress, was on the Late Show, sitting in the chair next to David Letterman. Like any good guest, she had a story to share with the TV viewing audience.
"We were driving through Europe in a Ford Fiesta," she began, before a man in the studio audience interrupted.
"That's like a Yugo!" the dream audience member shouted.
Juliette-in-my-dream, who I have never known to lose her temper, was not pleased.
"That's it. Fuck you all," she said. And she stormed off the set.
Anyone want to interpret that one?
Oh sure, there are the common, everyday dreams that everyone has - like the one last week, in which I came off the bench to hit a few clutch baskets for the Bulls in the seventh game of the Eastern Conference finals. But, unlike that one, most are completely unrealistic.
It could be that this new dream activity is related to the new herbal extract pills that I'm taking in an attempt to do something about those migraine headaches I wrote about a few weeks ago. I haven't read the little pamphlet that comes with the supplement to try to figure out what the possible side effects are, but I did look it up on Wikipedia, which is usually a pretty trustworthy source for Medical Information You Can Trust, and there was no mention of side effects, so I'm sure I'm in the clear.
Anyway, last night's dream was another winner.
For some reason, Juliette Binoche, the lovely French actress, was on the Late Show, sitting in the chair next to David Letterman. Like any good guest, she had a story to share with the TV viewing audience.
"We were driving through Europe in a Ford Fiesta," she began, before a man in the studio audience interrupted.
"That's like a Yugo!" the dream audience member shouted.
Juliette-in-my-dream, who I have never known to lose her temper, was not pleased.
"That's it. Fuck you all," she said. And she stormed off the set.
Anyone want to interpret that one?
January 14, 2011
My brain on drugs; Or, Seven sequential thoughts on a migraine treatment
1) I get migraine headaches four or five times a month.*
2) As my doctor recently called to tell me, that's far too many, and I should not have migraines so frequently. I'm not sure how that advice is supposed to help me, but I'll give it a few weeks.
3) A few months ago, my thoughtful and amazing wife - who frequently researches potential cures and treatments for migraines - mentioned that she had read an article about Botox being used to prevent migraines.
4) Although I was very appreciative that she had discovered this news, I thought using Botox as a remedy sounded somewhat silly, considering that I didn't need to eliminate crow's feet or frown lines in my brain.
5) I hate injections. I'm sure you don't like them either, but however much you hate them, I hate them more.
6) While poking around online today, I came across an item about the Botox migraine treatment.
7) After reading this article, I was reassured that I have made the right decision in not pursuing Botox as a treatment for my migraine headaches. Mainly because one of the common side effects is, um, headaches.
* Sometimes more. But I don't want it to look like I'm begging for sympathy. Or pills.
2) As my doctor recently called to tell me, that's far too many, and I should not have migraines so frequently. I'm not sure how that advice is supposed to help me, but I'll give it a few weeks.
3) A few months ago, my thoughtful and amazing wife - who frequently researches potential cures and treatments for migraines - mentioned that she had read an article about Botox being used to prevent migraines.
4) Although I was very appreciative that she had discovered this news, I thought using Botox as a remedy sounded somewhat silly, considering that I didn't need to eliminate crow's feet or frown lines in my brain.
5) I hate injections. I'm sure you don't like them either, but however much you hate them, I hate them more.
6) While poking around online today, I came across an item about the Botox migraine treatment.
7) After reading this article, I was reassured that I have made the right decision in not pursuing Botox as a treatment for my migraine headaches. Mainly because one of the common side effects is, um, headaches.
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| [Click to enlarge] |
* Sometimes more. But I don't want it to look like I'm begging for sympathy. Or pills.
January 13, 2011
So, why would CNN even bother covering this?
Just when I thought there was no reason to blog this month, I came across this "news" on CNN.com, the website I love to despise.
Apparently, Peter Fonda - notable in my world mostly for inspiring the Beatles song "She Said She Said" - found a dead man in a car on the side of the road. OK, cool enough. I'm with you so far, CNN.
What really ticks me off about the article is probably as much a reflection of America's general celebrity-obsessed insanity as it is about CNN's general journalistic inanity*. But I couldn't get over the last sentence of the story, which read, and I am not making this up:
Poor guy. To be found dead in your car is one thing. But (gasp) it's even worse: He's never been on TMZ**!
* This might not be a word, but I couldn't think of another appropriate synonym for incompetence that rhymed with "insanity."
** Well, he hadn't been. Until now.
Apparently, Peter Fonda - notable in my world mostly for inspiring the Beatles song "She Said She Said" - found a dead man in a car on the side of the road. OK, cool enough. I'm with you so far, CNN.
What really ticks me off about the article is probably as much a reflection of America's general celebrity-obsessed insanity as it is about CNN's general journalistic inanity*. But I couldn't get over the last sentence of the story, which read, and I am not making this up:
Poor guy. To be found dead in your car is one thing. But (gasp) it's even worse: He's never been on TMZ**!
* This might not be a word, but I couldn't think of another appropriate synonym for incompetence that rhymed with "insanity."
** Well, he hadn't been. Until now.
December 11, 2010
Scene in Noo Yorc
We were in the Big Apple last weekend.
I wonder whether the natives will eventually learn how to spell the name of that big expanse of recreational space that separates the east side from the west side north of 59th Street.
I wonder whether the natives will eventually learn how to spell the name of that big expanse of recreational space that separates the east side from the west side north of 59th Street.
On the other hand, you have to admire their tasteful and sophisticated sense of humor when it comes to altering the instructions posted on hotel elevators.
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