I have it on the good authority of people I trust that I once attended and graduated from something called High School. It doesn’t sound like something I would do, but I suppose people would know better than I do. So anyway, tomorrow is the reunion for people who graduated this strange place. while plenty of people are not going to be showing up because they live other places, or they have no interest or maybe they died of AIDs while robbing a liquor store, but I will be attending this thing.

The strange thing is, though, that apparently this gathering is just a bunch of people from the school going to some bars and drinking. On television and movies school reunions are always ceremonies in gymnasiums and people get awards for travelling the least distance to get there (or at least Homer Simpson did) but this is just a bar. Oh well. I guess if I want a classier more television-style reunion, I should go to school in television. I shall have to work on that.

Today I went and got my hair cut. A memory of my youth returned to me. At a haircutting place that I was brought as a child, children were encouraged to, once the cut was over, pick up a bit of their hair from the floor and place it in a little box. You would close the box and the “Hair Fairy” would take your hair and replace it with a cheap toy like you’d get in one of those twenty-five cent vending machines. Obviously the hair just fell into the device (probably into a bag if the people who made it had any sense) and the toy would fall out from some other place which was no doubt a heavenly reservoir of cheap toys and I don’t think that even in my youngest days I believed in the Hair Fairy because the mechanism was so obvious looking. But I believe in the Hair Fairy now. Because someone should.

Maybe I’d get my hair cut a little more often if I still had such awesome reasons to do so.

I admit I am kind of wary of looking up “Hair Fairy” in Google, however. I don’t even want to know where that could lead.

In other news, I took a trip across town to Future Shop today with intent to buy the latest season of the Venture Brothers and use up some of the many Future Shop gift cards I have accumulated over the last few years worth of Christmases and Birthdayses. The bad news is that there was no Venture Brothers season three (or any Venture Bros. at all, it is sad to say) but the good news is that even after a bit of a spending spree I still have eighty-eight dollars worth of gift certified at Future Shop. Not bad.

Haiku!

Captain Amsterdam!
A frog with a heart of gold.
And twice the power.

I have decided that there must be a holiday about index fingers. Perhaps a day when we’re not allowed to use our index fingers for anything, just to remind us how useful such fingers are. And people who have lost their index fingers can speak at big public events. And those foam fingers from sports can be made into decorations for our houses. Someone should get working on that.

So, I’ve had this wart on my finger for a few years now. I’m getting annoyed with it. In my dimly remembered youth I had a wart on my thumb for a while and got rid of it with a product called Compound W. That worked just find back then. But this time, I’ve used the stuff so much that I have on two occasions burned this wart down until there was a concavity in my finger. Both times the wart has grown back. As I say, this is starting to annoy me. But then, I don’t see any other way of getting rid of the thing so I’ll be burning it down a third time, I guess.

Also, after I titled this post, I went back to check for my previous post about my wart. That is also named after Wart from Mario 2. Apparently that is just where my mind goes when the topic comes up.

And the freeze-ray thing I mentioned in that post… Obviously it didn’t work either.

So it has been about nine months since my last post. The reason being: I was adopted by pirates. That, or it’s been a few weeks and I’ve just been lazy. Though I can use the slowness of my spyware filled browser as part of an excuse…

Now, on a daily basis I come up with fascinating things to write about on my little journal thing (and as you readers know, on a bi-annual basis I actually get around to posting one!) so let’s see if I can’t remember some of the things that occurred to me over the past few weeks, lest this become yet another post in which my only content is a reflection of the lack of content.

Winter has hit us here in Hali-town. We’ve had several snowfalls already. We’ve probably already had a quarter or more of the total snows we had last year, which I don’t remember being quite so busy. I have noted that these days any time it snows is referred to as a
“snowstorm”. It’s never just snowing anymore, it’s always a “snowstorm” and the whole city shuts down and schools are cancelled and people start crashing their cars all over the place and all that. I think back to my childhood and remember us actually getting far more snow and the city not breaking down. My question is: Has the snow actually somehow become more violent even though it usually clears up before we get towering snowbanks, or has the city just become one big collective weather wuss?

It also occurred to me at one point during these weeks that I don’t know my own age as readily as a person is probably supposed to do. I have to think about it longer that I probably should. Is that a bad thing? A plus side is that I’ll be thinking about how I’m twenty-eight and then realize, oh wait, I’m not twenty-eight yet and won’t be for over half of a year and it’s like for a moment I got a free bonus year.

Haiku!

My suicide tooth.
I can break it when I want.
But can it break me?

A few weeks back there was a night when I only three hours of sleep (actually there have been several like that since my last post, but I’m talking of a specific one). The thing is, the dream I had felt like it took at least three hours if not longer. I understand the thing about dreaming actually taking place in a shorter amount of time than it feels, but it really felt like I’d been dreaming longer than I’d been asleep. Anyway, the dream was about me conducting job interviews for some position that doesn’t exist in reality at some business that doesn’t exist in reality. I apparently had two openings and four applicants (three women, one man). Over the course of the interviews it occurred to me that the man was a complete moron and that I’d two of the women would be getting the jobs and I was starting to get worried that people would talk about me filling the business with just women (you know, like “Look at PDR over there building himself a little harem…”) and I was spent a great deal of time trying to figure out how to do it tactfully. It wasn’t easy considering I had been conducting the interviews in a crowded cafeteria with each of the applicants sitting at a different crowded table but totally able to hear the other interviews. At any rate, I managed to awake before I actually had to do anything. For the record, the third woman who was interviewed was also a moron.

Also for the record, outside of the dream, my harem is totally hiring.

I was going to do some commentary on Christmas as well while I was here, but this is long enough and why waste the content of a post I could do “tomorrow” right?

I was thinking recently about the times I’ve been in the hospital. For my own benefit I am going to try to make a list of them. I’m going to go reverse-chronologically, because I’m working on my tachyon impression.

• About two years ago, I think (so 2006ish) I crushed my hand in a machine at work. Hours later the bleeding had not stopped and when I got to ER, I found out I’d lost a fingernail. Not a terribly long wait time. Some X-Rays and some poking and I got called a very good patient. It did take the convincing of like eleven people at work to get me to bother taking that trip. And even then I didn’t go straight from work. I went home to check my email and got a slice of pizza before I finally walked to the hospital.
• Around Summer 2001 I had what appeared to be blood in bodily functions that blood is not supposed to be a part of. It was my mother’s idea to get it checked out at the emergency room, plus I got to miss a day of work (I was a security guard then). So… this trip was essentially me getting probed in those certain regions. I remember making lots of jokes that the doctors and nurses either didn’t get or weren’t paying attention to. I don’t remember the wait being too long and the problem went away on its own immediately after that with me never actually getting an answer what caused it (though the doctor mentioned that some cereals have dye that can look like blood when it comes out…) More importantly I remember we decided to stop at KFC on the way home from the hospital and they were out of chicken. No fooling. Also when I called my employers to tell them I’d miss a day, they demanded I get a note from the doctor. They never came to get the note from me and I think I still have it around here somewhere (I keep it because like a week later Kip wrote his medical opinion of me, “Yer ah jackass!” on it).
• Another time, I think I was about sixteen, but don’t ask me to figure out what year that would have been, I was taking out the garbage on a snowy day and slipped in the ditch and twisted my ankle. I remember my brother asking me if I was okay and, being embarrassed I just told him to go inside. I literally crawled up the stairs to the house and eventually went to bed. I lived in the basement back then, so the next morning I again had to literally crawl up some stairs to get and my mother, seeing this, brought me to the hospital. I remember being impressed by the fact that when they saw me limping my way to the door with my mother’s help some orderlies greeted me with a wheelchair. I suppose that they do that stuff every day, though, so they know what they’re doing. The wait this time was really bad. Hours of sitting in that wheelchair and waiting. I got some X-rays but nothing was broken, so it was ice and not using the leg. Made sense.
• Junior High I got a weird rash one day. It was all over my legs. I don’t remember all that much of that particular trip, aside from the female doctor seeing my junk. I do remember that the rash was because of something which Sounded like “Hypo-purple-itis” and that made sense because the rash was purplish, but of course I don’t know what the thing actually was called.
• And once a very, very young PDR had some manner of dehydration and actually had to spend a couple nights in the hospital. It was over the holidays and, the way I remembered it growing up I missed Christmas. I have been assured though that I was actually home at Christmas and it was New Years Eve that I missed. I guess my child-mind equated not getting to play with all his (no doubt awesome) presents as essentially missing Christmas. The only important thing to come out of this is now, when I get a physical and they ask if I’ve ever had a stay in the hospital I have to answer about this vague thing instead of just saying that I’ve not.
• Also, my understanding is that I was born in a hospital. I’m taking other people’s word for that one, though because I sure don’t remember that. And you’d think you’d remember something that important.

So that’s that. The stuff of future medical textbooks.

Tachyons are the one that move backwards in time right? Am I making that up?