Roller Rink from Hell

A friend of my had a birthday party and in true retro fashion, he had part of it at a roller skating rink.  Crystal Palace to be exact:

First, I have to say this.  Roller skating rinks have not changed.  They are exactly the same as they were in the seventies.  They have the same skates, the same horrible black confetti carpets, and the lame decorations that were originally suppose to make the place look like a futuristic disco, like Xanadu.  They even play the same music.  They played "Funkytown".  They even played "Get Down on It" by Kool and the Gang.  There was some new stuff too, but there was a sign stating that they would not play rap or heavy metal because they were not family oriented music.  They have obviously not heard "Who left the milk out?  Yuck, yuck, yuck, yuck, yuck", which is not only a fictional song, but also reminds the listener that dairy needs to return to the refrigerator.  A lesson Greg has a hard time with, but I'm not pointing fingers.  One thing has changed though, kids now text and skate at the same time, which makes me fear for the safety of our roads in the near future. 

Greg and I arrived by ourselves, which only makes it look like we were in some sort of pedophilia club.  The place was absolutely packed with kids and I mean packed.  There was almost no spot to sit down to put on the skates.  I felt like I was in a Tokyo subway car.

Greg and I find the birthday party, who are skating, so we get on the rink...again, the Tokyo-subway-car rink.  Greg said he was nervous about being on skates again, which is funny, because I wasn't.  I figured I would pick it up quickly and it would be no big deal.  So, we get out onto the rink and I'm doing my best balance routine, which involves jerking forward, backward and flailing my arms.  All the while, the constant loud chaos of children is whizzing by me, sort of like having a hundred ambulances pass you out of nowhere.  I manage to get an eighth of the way around the rink when I stopped and fell.  Not a controlled fall either.  I was going down the way fate decided and I had no choice in the matter.  I fell back like someone pulled a rug from underneath me.  I landed on my back.  I hurt my elbow, which is all well and good, but the chaos continues to swirl around me.  I hear whoa's and people laughing at me, which is all fine.  I decide to hug the wall, until I get more used to it.  I get around once. 

Even hugging the wall, I skate slower than the trail of wall-hugging girls behind me.  Chris remarked that it looked like a mother duck with her little ducklings.  I also had to endure the snickers of the people standing on the other side of the wall looking in on the rink. 

I get off and tighten my laces, thinking that must be the problem.  Someone remarked that I need to go fast and then I wouldn't have a problem, in retrospect, they were wrong.  It's not like riding a bicycle where momentum is needed.  Anyway, I attempted to go faster and what a surprise, I fell.  A much nicer controlled fall this time, however, I caused a pile up behind myself.  I don't know how many went down, but it sounded like quite a calamity.  Again, there was a people on the sidelines laughing.  I know I shouldn't care what other people think, but this only made me feel like a fool.  I was feeling foolish.  My legs were already strained from not knowing what muscles to use, so I tensed them all.  You couldn't swing your arm without hitting ten kids....plus I was slower than the wall-huggers.  I went around one more time, wall-hugging, and got off. 

Greg skated fine and really enjoyed himself.  I would have tried more and enjoyed myself if it wasn't so crowded and I wasn't 2 feet taller than everyone.  I figure with my luck lately (see previous post), I shouldn't press it and end up with a broken limb.

This is the baddest day of my life

When I was three, I wrote myself a note that said, "this is the baddest day of my life".  I then put it in my file that had all my important documents like my birth certificate.  I can't believe that I was three when I wrote that, but thinking that I could have gotten the date wrong is just not possible.  I must admit though, I did spell "baddest" incorrectly...what an idiot.  Please note though that even at three, I used a period.

I'm not sure what happened that day and I realized that even at such a young age my memory was fallible, so it was good form for me to write some way to remember the travesties that occurred.  At a much later date, I wrote a note (now lost) stating that "Mom favors Kathy".  I'm sure a similar injustice occurred on March 25, 1974.  When addressing the matter with my parents, they are rather tight-lipped.  I'm sure that they are guilty of some heinous deed.

Today wasn't the baddest day.  To say so would cloud the already faded memory of 3/25/74.  However, today was a no good day...a no good day indeed.  I went to my eye appointment because of cloudiness in my left eye.  Well, I think partly because I have obscured vision in my left eye, I ran over a parking lot raised island.  This completely blew out my tire which I left in the parking lot as I went in to my appointment.

In my appointment, I learned that I had a virally induced corneal ulcer, which sounds so serious, but isn't that big of a deal.  When I went out to get my car, Greg was out there putting on my spare, which he first had to fill with air.  This was something that made my no good day, not so bad.  My eye appointment was next to a tire place and they replaced my tire and gave us a matching one at 4:55, even though they closed at 5:00.  That also made my no good day a little better.  However, it wasn't at all free, so I'm calling that event even.

I then went to get my three medications for my eye filled at Target....$200 and they have to special order one of them.

In other news, Greg diagnosed the ulcers before I went to my primary care doctor back in December.  Well, he said "you've got holes in your eyes".  He was right.  If only my primary care doctor actually looked at my eye this could have been taken care of a lot sooner.  She is now my previous primary care doctor.

Oh...and one of my fillings fell out.

Lard diet, the only solution.

Warts and all

I have pink eye...or rather I have something that is making my eye pink.  It has been going on for at least a month and I'm sure I picked it up from clinicals.  There is no yellow discharge, so I figured it was viral conjunctivitis.  However, it has lasted too long and there is only so long I can say "my contacts are bugging me" at work before they catch on to the fact that I don't wear contacts. 
(not my eye)

So, I went to the doctor.  She didn't look in my eye.  She didn't check my pupil size.  I swear one is smaller than the other.  I said symptoms like it hurts my affected eye when I look at light with my unaffected eye.  Perhaps it is iritis, which could be treated with anti-inflammatory medicine and dilation.  She just gave me a prescription for an antibiotic eye drop even though I said that I had been using one to no avail just to rule out bacterial infection. 

I then showed her a wart that has appeared above my eyebrow.  (Don't worry, it looks manly and like a mole).  She said that a dermatologist would have to remove warts.  I can understand her hesitation of removing a wart on a face, but all warts?  Time to find another doctor. 

I need to make a batch of Greg's wart remover.  It is pure salicylic acid mixed with a little bit of lotion.  It works better than anything and the wart is just gone in a couple of days from one application.  The problem is that it is hard to order pure salicylic acid unless you are a school or laboratory.  Sigh...

By the way, do not do a search for warts using the google image search, unless you want to look at a lot of warty genitals.

Hello 21st Century, It's me, Patrick.

Greg and I are finally doing it.  We are getting rid of our home phone and getting real cell phones, or mobile phones as the kids are calling it now-a-days.  Greg is most hesitant about this new era of communication.  I suggested that he just get a phone so I can contact him.  Who else does he talk to on the phone?  No one!  He hates the phone.  So it is ironic that he chose the LG enV Touch for his phone. 

It's super high tech and requires an internet connection fee.  Then he swears up and down that he is going to throw it in a drawer and never look at it in some sort of passive-aggressive action towards his phone.  That's fine, but why didn't he just get some free jobby with no features.  He better become a phone junky or I swear....pow, right in the kisser. I, on the other hand, simply wanted a Qwerty keyboard.   So, I got the very cute and functional Razzle.


Why does the base swivel, you ask?  I ask, why wouldn't it.  It very clearly is also used as an mp3 player and has a slot for adding an additional 16 GB.  That's more than I'll ever need.  My original Dell DJ mp3 player is looking clunkier than ever.
 

Pickle Surprise

I don't like pickles. Well, I thought that I didn't like pickles. I really only always had the Vlassic pickles that are on the shelf. Then I had a sandwich at a deli and I thought that the pickle was very tasty. So, I bought Clausen pickles from the refrigerated section. They are so good. I can't stop eating them. Maybe I'm pregnant.


In other ironically related news, I seem to have developed a sensitivity to cucumber seeds and pickles are no exception. I knew that I had problems with cucumbers, but for some reason I thought pickles would be exempt. I guess they aren't as bad. Cucumbers make me feel like I'm going to die. Pickles just make me uncomfortable...totally worth it!

Passport photos and more

I just got my new passport and I am absolutely disgusted with the picture.  Rather than hide my shame, I've decided to just show it to the masses.  First, here is my old passport photo:

I used to hate this picture, but now I like it because I can compare it to my new passport photo.  I think my new passport photo makes me look like Pogo, the clown.  Pogo, of course, was John Wayne Gacy, the infamous murderer.  Here is a picture of him:

I really should have chosen a color photo (you'll see why below).  However, I find his hat in this picture particularly disturbing.  Clowns are creepy.  It goes without saying this is especially true when they are mass murders.

And here is my new passport photo:

Luckily, the passport lines obscure the overall effect of the picture, but you can tell.  Yes, indeed, I do have my lower lip sticking out as if to pout.  The photo does also add many shades of red to my face adding to the clown-like effect.  If I don't think of John Wayne Gacy, then I'm liable to think of Droopy the dog. 

In other news, I picked up pizza today from Cafe Verdi.  (I know, I know, from the picture, I clearly don't need pizza).  Anyway, I like the Cafe Verdi pizza, it is cheap and it tastes great.  There are some drawbacks though.  First, the place smells horrible.  This isn't a problem if you take it to go.  Second, I noticed a couple of these hung up high on the walls:

Evil eye protection amulets.  Then I noticed that they spoke some sort of Eastern European language that I couldn't make out.  They're gypsies...dirty, foul-mouthed, mean, no tipping gypsies.  I hate gypsies.  I've had too many experiences with these horrible people at the blackjack tables.  I'm torn between my love of good, cheap pizza and the generalized hatred of an already persecuted people.