Thursday, September 29, 2005

So, the foot is definitely broken

Why are the most intelligent men and women in the world (this is going on the supposition that doctors are intelligent, so roll with it) so disrespectful of TIME? I must admit that I have a highly vaulted opinion of time so, granted, this level of exasperation must be taken ... in that light. However, how can it possibly be kosher to keep someone waiting for thirty minutes on a piece of furniture with a piece of a paper on it. That's right. Not only am I not important enough to have my appointment time respected, but my ass is not clean enough to grace the bare skin of that little sofa thingie. Do you think someone has ever pushed the paper aside as they waited for hours on end just to grind their bare bottom into the sacred couch? If they have, I'm convinced an alarm went off and the tiny grandmom of a receptionist who wears too much blush and, amazingly, multi-coloured glasses came to escort them out of the office. Whether or not they were then taken out by a grandmom clone perched up in the huge birch tree outside the practice I've not decided yet. It demands great thought. Those grandmom receptionists are tricksy devils.

Not to take away from my awesome soap box stance, but today I experienced the most expedient time I've ever spent visiting the doctor. Not without it's frustrations but I took only a half hour of work off and got back within plenty of time to get back for class and to call Elisabeth. Total time in waiting room, getting x-rays, and nodding stupidly at an inane doctor = 45 minutes.

I'm off to the foot guy tomorrow. Bastard.

Wednesday, September 28, 2005

I'm Addicted to Island Hop

The cylindrical, perfectly aerodynamic little guy - how does he do it? Orbitz, I believe, has created the singular greatest advertising campaign with every pop up game it has created. Pure genius and never ending. Not that I like a neverending story - unless it has a freakin' huge furry white dog who can fly. Duh.

Why have I created this? One might wonder. Especially considering my hatred for blogs. As Erin once put it, they are the dark side. Woe is me to put my lot in with the devil, if it comes to such. However, I parlay myself with this. Three friends (the hippie, the old man [ha!], and the patriot) all have succumbed and most recently to the same host. Snazzy piffle, I say, and reason enough to put aside my icky feelings of pretentiousness and dive headfirst.

Yet, considering how many journals I have going (5!), my ideas truly are all over the place. I suppose it is only right that the physical manifestation of my thoughts be a true representation - scattershot. What joy, what fun...and my apologies. I hope this is enjoyable to peruse, for all my friends and loved ones. I have waylaid any fears of actually succumbing to this ridiculous faze by deluding myself into believing this is like one long e-mail to everyone I know - along with severe tangents. I know I very much miss all the people I know - especially my Cambridge (yes, I refer to four people as 'Cambridge') - and I miss knowing what they're up to. As they have set up ways to provide such knowledge, I have thrown in my lot as well. Of course, this is all on the supposition that they would care. And I'm sure they do, in part, but it all smacks of a rather pretentious attitude. Bastards be ye, damned if I do and damned if I don't (because I am rather pretentious so and so).

So, yes, uh...............howdy.