2005-03-30 � whinge whinge and whine

Dopey, Mopey Me

Dear Internet,

I just checked my stats for the first time in forever (always forget I have a stats tracker!) and i have a question. Why is it that the less I update, the more you visit? Why is that? Are you trying to send me some kind of message? If I stopped altogether would I become as popular as, say, Dooce? Would I?

so. Hi. Sadly, and despite longish absence, I have no exciting/entertaining/mildly interesting news to share with you. Nope. Was really, really nasty sick by Friday morning and spent the Easter holiday not in the mad pursuit of chocolate molded in the shape of bunnies and chicks, but lying in bed, moaning and coughing and making pathetic attempts to breathe. Went through 2 and a half monster boxes of Kleenex (the kind with LOTION in them) and an entire bottle of cough syrup. (Extra Strength, the kind with DM, and E, and DM-E, and BM and the really rotten flavour) The highlight of my weekend was watching the entire Million Pound Property Experiment marathon on HGTV (8 hours in total) and fantasizing about living in Property #6 (apres renovation of course) and cursing the evils of dry rot. Also had very weird dreams featuring the likes of Kalan Porter (of Canadian Idol fame) and Daniel Radcliffe (Harry Potter) (HUH?!!! Eek. I think this flu is making me age backwards. I am now approximately twelve with all the accompanying tweenie crushes) and an enormous bird that might have been an ostrich.

My nostrils are still enormously red and scabby and oh-so-attractive and I'm still pitching the occasional coughing fit and still feel like I've been flattened by an asphalt roller driven by a three-headed elephant, but am feeling loads better than before. Whew. That was (is?) one horrific virus. I hope I didn't pass it on to you inadvertently. Unless you are that evil old woman, the one in the puffy blue ankle length coat with the faux fur blue trim and the badly crocheted tam and the muppet orange hair who elbowed me sharply in the ribs at the grocery store (oh god. What on Earth possessed me to join Jack at the grocery store the day before Easter Sunday?!!! Tell me please, when did I become so utterly masochistic?! When did that happen exactly?) and then ran over my foot with her trolley whilst glaring at me and muttering profanities under her breath. Cuz if you are the evil orange haired tam lady and you are reading this, I hope you caught my virus. I hope you did. I breathed extra virulent germs extra hard in your direction. I did! Granted, that was sort of inadvertent... the result of me opening my germy maw in a gaping O of soundless fury and pain as my toes mashed flat like Play-Doh in the Fun Factory, but still....**

But the plague appears to be passing and I'm eager to entertain happier thoughts. Or at least the idea of sleeping all the way through the night without waking up 25 times to glug cough syrup straight from the bottle.

sigh. I know. I know. The only thing worse than being sick is listening to someone whinge on and on about how sick they are/have been. Shutting up now. Will hopefully post non-virus related good stuff later this week!

** okay, evil orange-haired tam lady. I don't really wish my nasty virus on you. I don't. Despite the fact you looked undoubtedly evil and completely unrepentant when you ran over my foot, you also looked kinda frail. So I don't really wish ill health upon you. Did you hear that, Karmic Forces? I don't really wish ill health on anybody. Honest. No, Really!

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