Finger in the Butt

Went to the doctor's office today for my yearly physical. The first thing to discuss was the blood work. I gave up six vials of blood a couple of weeks ago. My blood sugar is high, what can I say—I love me some carbs. Everything else with the blood work is "where is should be." I assume that means it's good. I don't ask for details.

Next he gets up and says "take off your clothes, except your underwear," and he leaves the office. Two minutes later I'm sitting in my underwear, freezing, on a thin piece of white paper, with my doctor proding and poking around my body, from top to bottom, bypassing the still covered mid-section. Sitting up he checks my mouth, ears, eyes, and blood pressure.

Then, the famous words "please lie down and pull down your underwear." A little groping of the family jewels (I keep them in my underwear, don't you know). A quick hold-and-cough. A little upper hernia check. All's good on the front side.

Then the most famous words of all "please roll over on your side. Try to relax, this might be a little cold." I'm thinking "What, you don't pre-heat your lube? Can't you rub your finger for a bit to heat it up?" and of course "I was relaxed until you said it would be cold."

There's a momentary pause. then he inquires "how was your vacation?" Barely pausing for me to answer he pushes his finger in my butt. Top marks for trying to distract me. Low marks for a smooth conversation transition. My vacation was good, so, apparently, is my butt.

I never understood the philosophy some people have regarding doctors visits. They say "I don't want to hear anything bad." That's so bizarre to me. I'd rather hear "you have this little thing here that we can clear up quickly with this little inconvenience" than "I'm sorry you've got ass cancer, here's the bag that you'll be pooping in from now on." Let's compare: finger in the butt OR pooping in a bag. I'll take the finger in the butt, thank you very much. I'm funny that way.

Oh, and the last thing I did? I asked when was the last time I had a colonoscopy. Coming up next month… new blog post Camera Up The Butt.

Licence to Kill

So just got done watching Licence to Kill. The James Bond movie, that in my opinion, is the worst of the series. I think it's mostly because I just can't stand Benicio Del Toro's overacting. It is really, really, really over acted.

Ya the truck chase at the end was cool and all, but the one redeeming thing that the movie had going for it was the closing credits song.

And, before you ask, yes, I'm a romantic sap.

I Got Nothin'

It's been 9-12 hours days, for 6 days a week, for the last month. This week has been a particularly busy one. Hardly any meetings, hardly anything other than full-out work. No socializing. Nothing. Just all of those hours working, concentrating, starring blindly at the computer.

And that means just one thing: I've got nothing left to give. I don't wanna talk on the phone. I don't wanna email people. In the last week my Twitter stream of conscience is practically non-exsistent. I just want to come home and crash.

And crashing is something I'd actually really love to do, however, there is so much work to do even when I do get home the brain is going a mile a minute. Not even Winter Wipeout can shake it, though it helps. Even as I type this I'm thinking of the work I have to accomplish this week-end. The only thing I keep thinking about is the hard deadline for 3 books on February 18th. February 19th… then I'll crash.

To put it simply… I'm pooped.

Friday Night Rituals

I like my Friday night rituals. Twenty Years Ago this is what it was… Leave work early, quickly down dinner, lay down and have a two hour nap, get up, put on the dance music, shower, shave, put on tight jeans and a t-shirt and head out for a night of drinking and dancing until 3 in the morning, stumble home to bed and pass out by 4.

This is how it went tonight… Try to leave work early, but fail because there's a deadline that I need to meet. Come home, get undressed and put the housecoat on. Make myself something simple for dinner which I'll enjoy while watching a movie (tonight was a Doctor Who). I'll invariably pass out in the arm chair for 20 minutes, while doing the "I'm not sleeping head-bob." At this point I'll get up and take a chemical mind-slowerdowner often it's a nice pot of tea (If I'm feeling really daring, I'll have a glass of wine).

At 10 o'clock I start running a bath (with some epson salts and bath oil), lighting candles and turning off the lights. At this point I'll turn up the music often it's Enigma. And at 10:30 I'll burn some incense, lower myself into the tub and for the next 30-45 minutes I'll watch the steam rise from the tub and contemplate the meaning of life.

At 11:30 I'll put moisturizer on my whole body, rub my feet, and further contemplate the meaning of life. Then I'll proceed to further mellow myself until I'm literally in a puddle of relaxation. The week has all been washed away.

Sometimes I miss the me from 20 years ago. Mostly I like the new me better. At the very least now I have much smoother skin.