Only Water Floss the Teeth You Want to Keep

The other day, I had some pretty major (well, pretty major for me, anyway) dental work. I will spare you the gory details, but suffice it to say there are any gory details. I'm OK now. Knock wood.

This was the fourth and last in this series of appointments, and by far the biggest deal. But the appointments have been over the course of a few months, so there's visible change in my mouth, in a positive way. Naturally, this has my friend who is also my dental assistant very excited.

She's a generous-of-spirit type anyway, as evidenced by her calling in to the dentist while we waited for my local anesthetic to kick in: "[bzzzzgrrrl] is one of the coolest people I know." The dentist looked at me, seemingly in disbelief, and I said, "To be fair, [assistant] hath a limited thothial thircle." (He and I then got into a big conversation about wines. About which I know nothing. Nonetheless, it went slightly better than our last wait-for-the-Novocaine conversation, regarding his theories on the JFK assassination.)

And a while later, when he was done with me and her part of the appointment was beginning, she showed me some Water Pik videos.

"You should do a Water Pik blog," she said.

I laughed appreciatively.

"You're probably the one person I know who is cool enough to do it," she said. "Here, I'll print out your before-and-after pictures. Look how good that looks."

It may be that she has a different idea of what "cool" means than a lot of people do.

A reading rainbow

Do you find there's so much on the internet you don't have time to read it all?

Does that lead to you opening a tab for each and then not getting back to them sometimes for a looooong time?

Hey, me, too.

This weekend, I was very, very sick. Today, I am better, but have been taking it easy on the couch. And catching up on the whole internet. And I think part of why I keep those tabs open is that I keep meaning to not only read them, but share them with an appropriate audience.

Hey, appropriate audience.

Seriously, all of these links likely aren't for any of you, but if you can't find something here that interests you, what are you reading?

• Now-defunct Biblical theme park in Connecticut
• House mouse prevention and control
• How My Past As A Black Woman Informs Me As A Black Male Feminist
• Principality of Sealand
• Top 100 Greatest Gay Movies
• Why it's Awesome to be a Nerd
• John Tyler still has two living grandchildren
• 1942 ‘Time Capsule’ Apartment Discovered In Paris
• Perfect Love Casts Out Fear
• Read the "Stomach-Churning" Sexual Assault Accusations Against R. Kelly in Full 
• Stop Hurting America With Unnecessary Teaser Questions 
• So What About The LGBTQ People Who Don't Want To Get Married? 
• The Choice To Be Childfree 
• 9 Out Of 10 Americans Are Completely Wrong About This Mind-Blowing Fact 
• 21 Things '80s Kids' Did That Would Horrify Us Now 
• Cockblocking Rapists Is A Moral Obligation; or, How To Stop Rape Right Now 
• The Top 30 Beauty Secrets from the People Who Know Best
• How Slam-Dunking, Gender-Bending WNBA Rookie Brittney Griner is Changing the world of Sports
• Isolation Cannot Heal Isolation: One Survivors Response to Sexual Assault

OK, so now I read (and closed) all those tabs. What are you reading?

Arresting developments

I got up this morning at about 8:30, let work know I was too sick to go in, and then took a two-hour nap from the exertion.

At 10:30, my cousin, who is staying with me, had just woken up.

"Good morning," she said.

"Good morning," I said.

"Do you know you slept through the police coming and searching the house?" 

Which— No. No, I did not know that. 

I have two cousins staying with me this week, but we've all been pretty sick. For me, yesterday was the worst of it. It's mostly a bad cold, but I also had a fever and just felt entirely miserable, like, I'm not sure when I've been that sick.

I slept most of the day, and then last night, fell asleep with the door to my bedroom open and the lights on.

Apparently, the police came at around 2:30 in the morning, rang the bell a bunch of times, and then yelled "police" and banged on the door until my cousin woke up and answered the door. 

Apparently someone crashed his motorcycle near the house, and there were outstanding warrants on him, so he fled on foot. 

Apparently, they were making sure he wasn't hiding in the house. 

Apparently, he was not. 

So, things this brings up for me:

• My cousin said she was a houseguest. Doesn't it seem like the police would have wanted to wake the actual resident/homeowner? 
• The reason my falling asleep with the door open and the lights on is relevant is that when the cops looked in my room, in which I was sleeping, they didn't need to shine flashlights. Doesn't it seem like the police would have wanted to wake me then?
• Boy, I sure am glad I was sleeping with clothes on, fever and all.
• I don't, as far as I know, have anything illegal in my house (including a fugitive). But let's say I had, I dunno, a body or a meth lab in the basement. Once the police have entered the home with no warrant and permission not from the homeowner but from someone else, can they do anything with that?
• Good thing I don't have a body or a meth lab in the basement.
• When my cousin woke up and finally went to the door, a police officer had actually opened the door and stuck his face in the doorway. Can he do that?

In case some of you are worried that the fugitive may still be in the attic (where the police did not look, by the way, just because my houseguest didn't know I had an attic), he is not, according to my local paper. He eventually called the police, in fact, presumably because of his injuries, and said he'd been assaulted. There is no evidence to support that. He's in the local hospital now.

Ramblin', man

Friday night, I went to the Amos Fortune Forum with my folks. I think I've talked about this cool little lecture series here before, but in case not: Once a week in the summer, there's a lecture on some topic of interest, often by a renowned scholar or author, for which the speaker is compensated one jug of maple syrup. It happens in the meeting house of my parents' tiny town, about half an hour east of where I live. It's amazing. You should go, if you're in the area on a summer Friday.

Last night's talk was by a woman whose dad was a spy, about what it's like when your dad's a spy. It was cool, if a little strange that more of the talk was dedicated to bowling in her bathrobe than to spy stuff, but still, you know I'm a sucker for a good bowling story. And this was a good one. It's in her book.

Afterward, I decided I'd rather sleep on my parents' sleeping porch than drive home, even knowing that I don't usually sleep well there, and even knowing that I had a hair appointment at 9 in the morning about half an hour west of where I live, which is to say an hour west of where I spent Friday night.

But I got up in plenty of time and rolled up my sleeping bag and drove home to have a few minutes to putter around before I continued on to my hair appointment.

And once I got there, I realized I'd left my purse at my parents' house.

It's an easy mistake to make, because I almost never carry a purse.

But still, my purse had both my wallet and my checkbook in it, so I was not going to a) have means to pay for this haircut without making an extra hourlong roundtrip to my parents' place, or b) have time to make said roundtrip and still get to the hair appointment.

SO, I called my parents and then called the hairdresser to reschedule for later in the afternoon, and crashed on the couch for a bit (not having slept well the night before) and drove to my parents' house, grabbed my purse, drove back to my town, ran a few errands, went to the hairdresser, got a lovely new haircut which I paid for by check, and then drove another half hour south to cook dinner for RI (gazpacho and salmon, if you were wondering). We had a very nice time.

Sunday morning, RI had to be at work at 7, so we got up together and had the breakfast casserole I'd put in the Crock Pot the night before, and I slept for about three more hours, got up, did the dishes, and headed out for the hourlong drive home.

And once I got there, I realized I'd left my laptop at RI's. And rather than burst into tears, I crashed on the couch for about five more hours before deciding I just couldn't bear driving another hour back down there, only to have to drive an hour back, either last night or this morning before work.

All by way of explaining why you didn't get a blog post Sunday.

How was your weekend?

(Oh, and then I woke up this morning sick. You know how I love being sick.)

This route has tolls

I was sick earlier this week, and home for two days. On top of that, there was an interruption in my internet service on the second day. It came back, but meanwhile, I didn't feel up to even getting up off the couch, so I read. A whole book. In one sitting. Which is a thing I used to do all the time (I read Gone with the Wind, which was 1,024 pages long, when I was sick for four days in middle school), but not so much anymore.

Two things about that:

• The book was Nevada, by Imogen Binnie, and both Nevada and Imogen Binnie are pretty terrific. If you're looking for your next book, I recommend it. The honesty of all the characters — not just the main one — is sort of breathtaking. (One of my favorite poets blogged about it, too.)
• In it, the main character, Maria, talks very briefly a couple of times about feeling self-pity in lieu of other emotions. It is a very minor piece of the overall book, but I'd been sick on the couch for two days, and it resonated. I totally do that, though I am not sure I'd have identified it that way. Like, I start feeling something powerful, and very quickly it spirals into a big wah wah wah I'm worthless fest, which cannot be remedied by actual awareness that I am in no way worthless, or even by being told by others how terrific (or unworthless) I am (which, in general, I like a whole lot). I think maybe it only gets remedied by:
  • falling asleep, or
  • actually feeling whatever else I'm trying to avoid.

So, that's where my head is. Just me? What's your Thursday look like?

Your turn

Hey there; it's been a little while since we acknowledged how pathetic I am when sick.

So, so pathetic.

I mean, it starts out OK. I get a little sick and I do what I understand to be the smartest thing to do: I cave, immediately and completely. A few sniffles in and I am in bed, resting (OK, maybe "in bed" sometimes means "on the couch" and "resting" sometimes means "watching terrible, terrible TV") and pushing fluids. I do believe, in my heart of hearts, that that course of action results in less overall down time, and right now, in particular, I can afford no down time.

But quickly, it degenerates into the kind of whininess that I subject only the internet to, from a safe and germ-free distance. I'm siiiiiiiiiiiick, everybody. Entertaaaaaaaaaiiin me.

No, seriously. Please send me hilarious links from the internet.

Meanwhile, I will be eating my friend Dan's foolproof nip-it-in-the-bud cure:

1 can spinach, undrained
1 can lima beans, undrained
As much freshly ground black pepper as you can stand
Combine ingredients. Heat on stove until hot. Eat.

Yes, that is exactly as tasty as it sounds. But Dan swears by it, and I have the ingredients, so I'm doing it.

Sick

Thursday was Thanksgiving, as you know. It was great.

Friday was filled with more family, which, also great.

Saturday, I was sickish. Tried to nip it in the bud by resting and relaxing.

Today, I'm sicker. As you may know, I'm crabby when I'm sick.

Day 23 of my month of gratitude: I am grateful to have parents who, having spent the last several days catering to everyone else, continued to spend today catering to me, going to the grocery store and bringing me:

• milk,
• Pepsi Throwback,
• ginger ale,
• tissues, both with and without lotion,
• chips, both plain and cool ranch,
• celery (I can't make chicken soup without celery)

Plus

• my suitcase and leftover turkey and mince pie from their house.

I do not think there are better parents than these. Even if my mother did have to stay in the car while my dad threw groceries and a suitcase in the house, in a (certainly) futile attempt at germ avoidance.

Oh, and I'd be even more grateful if I had readers who wanted to entertain me while I'm sick and pathetic.

A wrench in the works

About a month ago, I fell and hurt my left knee. Or the muscles around my knee, I guess.

It was getting better until Thursday night, at which time I slipped on some wet floor and wrenched that knee, hard. Luckily, I was in a drug store at the time, so there were supplies to take care of it, and luckily, I had good friends also taking care. It still hurt like hell. Still does.

And I know from experience that what it needs is ice the first 48 hours, a mix of rest and light exercise, some gentle stretching... but it still hurts like hell.

And also, probably, I shouldn't wear heels for a few weeks, which might be a problem, because my non-heeled shoes consist of assorted athletic shoes and sneakers and one pair of Doc Marten wingtips. The wingtips would be OK for work, except that most of my pants are all the wrong length for that. Which is probably why I went back to wearing heels too soon the last time.

Guess I'm going limpy shoe-shopping.

Day 9 of my month of gratitude: I am thankful to already have:

• Sort of amazing ice packs from the bison burgers my friend sent me a year ago
• Fish oil
• Island Mist Healing Clay Mask
• Dr. Teal's Therapeutic Solutions Epsom Salt Lavender Soaking Solution
• The 'til-now-unread end of Tina Fey's Bossypants
• The ability to get back up out of the bathtub, which I ill-advisedly did not test before I needed it and so am perhaps most grateful for of all. It could have been a looooong weekend.
  

One soaky bath is not going to fix all the world's problems, but it did not hurt one bit.

Hell yes, I'm liveblogging the debate. What could go wrong?

Remember when I live-ish blogged the vice president's visit to campus?

We're trying that again with the debate.

9:04 blah blah blah rules. Here's my setup: I'm at home, watching the debate on Huffington Post Live through the Roku. I've been home sick-ish from work, trying to nip a cold in the bud, and am now eating a giant salad with my friend and special guest star, who has shockingly not yet earned a nickname on CMC yet, but we'll try to fix that tonight.

9:08 Do you think part of Romney's problem is that he's in the Uncanny Valley?

9:09 Oh, if any of you thought you were going to get any information out of this liveblog, you're in the wrong place. All I have is snarky remarks, with high hopes for occasional real admiration.

9:12 This salad is amazing.

9:13 I think we're going to play the drinking game. That's a lot to juggle. Hang on while I make a drink. I'm leaving the computer with my special guest star, in case he has anything to say about anything.

9:15 Special guest star is having trouble understanding Romney because of glitches in the sound and therefore has very little to say. Also Obama now that he's back on. Oh well.

9:17 Bzzzzgrrrl back again, with a delicious whiskey lemonade. SO MANY sound glitches, and the audio and video do not currently match. BOOOOOOOOO Huffington Post Live through the Roku.

9:18 Special guest star says, and I agree, "Taxes affect me and how hard I have to work and all that, but I mostly just care how people are treated." He then elaborated for a bit on which people he means (hint: ALL THE PEOPLE).

[9:21 taking a break from liveblogging to focus on the drinking game.]

[9:22 except that now we have no sound at all, for huge chunks of time.]

9:25 Sound's back, but this version of the game has people drink if anyone says "taxes." I would be wasted already, just in the several minutes I've been playing, if I could actually keep up with how often they say that. I'm just going to drink my drink at a regular pace instead. Oh, here's some information: whiskey lemonade is the ideal alcoholic beverage when you are sickish. You should not be "chugging" alcohol when you're sick, though, I don't think. And I'm not.

9:30 Special guest star, who is, not coincidentally, a Quaker, said if Romney didn't mention the military in his list of PBS and health care and other things he'll cut, he (special Quaker guest star) would punch him (Romney) in the face. And now I can never reveal who the special guest star is, for fear of Secret Service involvement. But I am now obviously on some list. Thanks a lot, Quaker.

9:38 Commenter Joe just said something funnier than anything I would ever have thought to say. I am not repeating it up here, but you should go read it, especially if you, say, used to work with Commenter Joe and me. Or for any of a number of other fine DC-area publications. SO GLAD you're reading, buddy.

9:42 I can't tell if Jim Lehrer hates them both, or just Romney. But there is some real loathing going on there.

9:46 Special guest star sez: He seems so angry. It's the way his lips are.

9:47 Me to special guest star: Is it gross to you that I'm just eating my salad with my fingers now?
Special guest star: Not in the least.
That, my friends, is what friendship looks like.

9:53 I totally have room in my garage to open a bank. I should do that. My uncle's been pushing for a wood shop.

9:59 "Expensive things hurt families." Special guest star thinks he means when a guy hits his wife with a Tiffany lamp. I just assumed he meant fancy heterosexual weddings.

10:05 When special guest star watches the debate through his glass, it looks like a TV on TV, like when people on TV are watching a TV show.

10:15 Here's my proposed drinking game for the next debate: Drink when Romney smirks inappropriately. I feel like it's simpler than other forms out there, and also would result in a similar amount of drinking. Dude really is a champion smirker.

10:19 We are patently not a nation that believes we're all children of the same God. Some of us believe that, and part of what gives that belief any weight is that we don't have to believe it as a nation. Others of us do not believe that, and what we do believe as a nation is that people can believe what they believe.

10:20 Did he just offer school choice to lower-income children but not poor children?

10:24 "You're entitled to your own house, and your own plane, but not not your own facts." That must be one of those zingers we've heard Romney's been practicing since August.

10:28 That inspiration I was looking for? Got it.

10:30 I have to say, mockery aside, this was a better debate than I was anticipating. More civil. 'Course, Joe's gone to bed now, so what more can there really be to say?

10:33 Just this: "I will not cut the military." Wow.

10:36 And this: Huffington Post Live, a bunch of analysts and journalists sitting at their computers in their offices is not "the definition of an afterparty." You need to get out more.

Oh, goody. Sickie's got bullet points.

I left work early today with a fever.

Normally, as you know, sickness means two things for me:

• grumpiness, and
• blogging

Today, I think I have worked through the grumpiness, but not the blogging. I also might not have worked through the mild lightheadedness which is totally not to say delirium.

So you get every random thought in my head right now:

• I really like the (real) wood paneling in my house.
• My new favorite drink consists of 3/4 cup gin, one 12-ounce can ginger beer, 1 cup lemonade (serves four).
• My new second favorite drink consists of half a glass of lemonade and half a glass of ginger beer (serves me, repeatedly).
• My new third favorite drink is hibiscus peppermint iced tea.
• This show "Traffic Light"? Isn't bad.
• That show, "Take Me Out"? Kind of is, but I have watched every episode anyway.
• Regarding that, I can understand people wanting to wait until they're married, but doesn't buying a ring for your hypothetical future wife you haven't met yet suggest that you're not able to approach women as individuals, who might have specific tastes (or ring sizes) (or metal allergies)? Or is a man who does that playing it Cinderella-style, where the woman who likes the ring and can wear it is his One True Love?
• I already shared this on the CMC Facebook page, but I need Joe to see it, too. As I said there, "I don't care how you feel about this song, this version is adorable. And sort of crowded."
• I really wish I was watching the Opening Ceremonies. Don't worry, I'll watch them later. You were worried, right? That's sweet of you.
• Sweat is just gross sometimes. And there's, like, a lot.
• No, wait. Lying around sweat is gross. Sweat from working out or hiking or something is, like, pure.
• I think the thermometer might be in the living room.
• 99.0! Woo-hoo ibuprofen!
• I had another thought, but now it's gone. Damn.
• I had a hilarious conversation earlier today that I can't share yet. I'll set it up for tomorrow.
• Before you came into my life, I missed you so bad. 

Not tonight, dear

Things that are less fun with a migraine than they might otherwise be, in chronological order of me discovering it today:

• reading
• editing
• making other people happy
• remembering my coworker's name*
• interacting with the friendly guy at the convenience store
• beautiful sunny days
• active puppies
• waking up from a dream about not having a migraine
• being awake
• watching Community

Oh, in case you were wondering if anything wasn't less fun, I think this wasn't, though you can bet I'll try watching it again when I don't have a headache, just in case it's even better than I think.

*OK, to be fair, this wasn't so much "less fun" as it was "more difficult." This is a close coworker, both geographically and friend-wise, and I've known her for more than a year.

Holy what?

I need to couch this in a lot of things; here's a seemingly unrelated list of them that will become clearer once I get to my main point:

• I'm still sick, and therefore still crabby
• I have been watching TV and sleeping in maybe roughly equal amounts since midday Friday
• I'll watch almost any damn thing if it's likely to be funny at this point
• I have a great deal of respect for the good the Catholic Church has done in the world, while still disagreeing with much of its doctrine
• I don't think, usually, religion is the cause of evil; I think some people behave badly for a variety of pretty much inexcusable reasons, and when those people happen to be in positions of power, the damage that does can be worse (of course, the converse is true for people who behave nobly)
• I'm tired; that was a lot more philosophical than this likely warrants
• I rarely like British television as much as people think I will

OK, back to that main point.

Does this:

Three Catholic priests are exiled to a remote Irish island after various misdeeds brought them under the scrutiny of the bishop.

Sound like a terrible premise for a comedy TV show? Nightmarish, even?

Oh, wow. Spoiler after the colon; highlight the text to read: The last episode of the series, no kidding, is titled "Going to America." 

I am afraid to watch this show, but I don't really see how I can not. Did everyone else already know about this?

Oh, super, she's sick and wants help again

As we all know by now, I am crabby when I'm sick. And as frequent commenter Joe is fond of telling us, Facebook is a huge waste of time. Now, I disagree with Joe, because today, in my cranky state, I have gotten a great deal of sympathy from Facebook, and for that I am grateful. You know what I have not gotten from Facebook? Good movie recommendations. Maybe you can do better.

Here are my requirements:

• It must be happy/fun (I don't need good movies that are not happy/fun. I have a queue full of those. That is why I am asking for help);
• It must pass the Bechdel test (for our purposes, the movie needs to contain at least two female characters, with names, who talk to each other, about something other than a man*);
• It must be available on Netflix streaming.

These are not my requirements for all movies ever, they are my requirements for me right now when I am sick and very cranky about it. In the comments, I'll try to list some movies that meet this set of requirements (including helpful ones from the Facebook post), but you have to do the same, OK? Please don't let me think there just aren't any movies that meet these requirements.



*Men are not limited to romantic interests. They can include but are not limited to male nemeses, children, parents, bosses, royalty, etc.

Drunk

Today, I've drunk:

• Water
• Cider
• Throwback Pepsi 
• Herbal tea
• Water with effervescent cold medicine in it
• Cider with effervescent cold medicine in it (note: BAD idea)

I am probably not dying, but if I am, it is not of dehydration.

Day 8 of my month of gratitude: I am grateful for fluid. So, so much precious fluid.

Dreamy

I've been home sick — you don't want the gory details, but I'm achy and sneezy and my nose runs like a faucet until I take medicine that dries me out to the point of pain and nosebleeds. I guess that is the gory details. Sorry.

This morning, I had a dream, and the details are fading fast, but my sister brought me to a church service that she said would be pretty much like my regular church, and it was not (lots of running around) and I was very confused.

Then I was taking a class through work at the college that had something to do with sex, but when I got the textbook (which a friend gave me at church), it seemed to be about Cerebral Palsy. I almost accidentally left it in the pew, and as I was going back to retrieve it, I thought of you — while still dreaming. I thought, "Here's a funny story for my month of gratitude — I'm thankful I didn't accidentally leave my sex textbook in a church that isn't even mine." I was sooooooo amused.

That was before my dream self had read the back of the book (while trying to find my car and crossing busy streets in Brattleboro, Vermont) and knew that it was about CP.

Belated, sicko Day 6 of my month of gratitude: I am thankful I didn't accidentally leave my sex textbook in a church that isn't even mine.

Sick and tired

Hey, gang. There was a long post in the works about how sick I was last week, and how I'm also a hypochondriac, which makes everything more difficult. It was hilarious and rambly. But I did not have the attention span to finish it.

I'm better now, but very, very run-down and weak. Which is sad; between the sick and the tired, I have missed:

• several major family events,
• one major work event,
• one minor social event,
• three and a half days of work,
• and fireworks

So yesterday, with a little help from my sweet mother, I made my way back to the urgent care center to see if maybe there wasn't something major going on, on top of strep throat. There isn't. I'm fine.

The guy who did my blood work (which, in this case, means both drew the blood and ran the tests) was awkward and made a lot of noise about how drawing blood is his least favorite part of the job, and he doesn't usually do the blood drawing.

That became clearer when we were able to see what happens when he does:


That is after a day of healing, folks. Yesterday, it was just that color and size, but also swollen and weirdly lumpy. Hurts like hell, too.

Cold day in hell

I am brutally, miserably sick. It's just a bad cold, but I hate it.

You know what that means.

It means it's your job to entertain me.

Leave comments with jokes, links to hilarity on the internet, names of old TV shows I should be watching on hulu, whatever.

Go.

The right to keep and bear cherry bombs

Happy Fourth, everyone.
"But wait," you say. "Bzzzzgrrrl, you're sick. What the heck are you doing up at nearly midnight?"
Well, fireworks are legal up here, including, apparently, in my neighbors' yards.
Some of you may have seen this champion of freedom on the Colbert Report. He's a local guy, known personally to many of my friends and relations:

The Colbert Report	Mon - Thurs 11:30pm / 10:30c
Difference Makers - Steve Pelkey
www.colbertnation.com
Colbert Report Full Episodes Political Humor Fox News

In other news, I did sleep in three of the four beds in my house today.

And in still other news, know what I'm doing tomorrow? Going to a staged reading of the Declaration of Independence at the local meeting house. Having salmon and peas for dinner. And that, my friends, is how we do the Fourth of July.

Sick again

You may recall that I am whiny and irritating when I'm sick. And also, that I consider it to be your job to entertain me.
Well, I'm home today with a really painful sore throat and less painful but still troubling body aches. I suspect I caught the camp crud from a certain group of young men (who are actually at camp) that I spent the evening with on Tuesday.
So, the comments are yours. Tell me what to look at.

Also, is it

• sweet
• pathetic
• sweetly pathetic

that I am about to have a bowl of ramen noodles for breakfast?
And is it better or worse that

• I plan to eat them with the chopsticks my brother-in-law gave me for Christmas?
• I plan to eat them while watching Traffic?
• the flavor is called, "Oriental"?

Sick

Today, I am sick, which means I am:
a) whiny, and
b) not going cross-country skiing with my old friend and his wife and their child, who I have never met. Even though they are getting several inches more pretty fresh snow even as we speak.
You should feel sad for me and take this opportunity to be very entertaining. If you don't have anything entertaining to say yourself, give me an entertaining link to play on.