Yes, I'll take fries on that

So MN is off to the glorious city of Pittsburgh tomorrow - or "Pixburgh" as it's known to locals. You really have to love a city that puts french fries on its salads, and sandwiches, and anything else that happens to be on the table. I'm hoping my head behaves itself, unlike the last 3 days of intermittent misery.

Special thanks to Bourgeois Deviant for the healing tea this am. Our feud is temporarily suspended.

AAARRRRGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

I did not win today. Stupid migraines. Why is it that there are at least four different drugs for erectile dysfunction but only two major ones for migraines? That's it: someone get me a penis.

Tuxedo Pants, a bloodied t-shirt, and one shoe

Lest my friends forget that I grew up in the boonies of Pennsyltucky, where we had days off from school for the first day of trout season, I bring you this article from the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette with my compliments. This is only slightly less redneck than when my cousins got drunk and stole all the Republican presidential candidate signs from people's yards and used them for archery targets. Slightly.

Argument for Big-Girl Underwears

Right. So Friday was one of those days that was - how to put this delicately - craptacular. And since I like to share these days with everyone, I sent out a mass email to my friends and included my mom (she digs that). Because my friends are awesome, one of them even wrote a mini-play dramatizing my non-awesome day. Love her. But I digress.

So, I am outside on my way to pick up a salad and then maybe also some chips (spinach salad with tofu + kettle-cooked potato chips = 0 - they cancel each other out, right?) when my phone rings and I stop to take the call. Now, a little background: Friday was a glorious spring day, with blue skies and near 70 degree temperatures. Therefore, I was wearing a lovely sundress with my Frye biker boots and feeling sassy. Until a wind gust came whipping down west 44th street and gave me my own personal Seven Year Itch moment. However, unlike Ms. Monroe, who was undoubtedly wearing some gorgous lace or satin drawers, I remembered that I was wearing white cotton boy shorts with little blue rabbits on them that I'd purchased at the Gap after Easter for $1.99. And did I mention that the hot, tall, beat cop I've been eyeing was, like RIGHT across the street when this all happened? Yeah. So I think it is time I go shopping for some big girl underwear. Maybe next week I can learn to tie my shoes and color inside the lines.

Sticky wickett in your chips, indeed

Dear Bourgeois Deviant,

Why must you be such a whiny little bitch?


Love,
MN

"Epic trouser-rattler"

And yet another reason I love the English: this story about a new Colin Firth movie.

Non-tourist lane, please

OK, OK, I know that everyone bitches about this: but COME ON, NYC tourists! Please remember that some of us live here, or at least work here. And we don't have all frakkin day to wait for you to get your fanny packs and Hershey store bag-toting asses together and figure out which way is north, let alone whether you're going to Toys R Us or the MTV Store first. Me? I just want to get back to this office with my damn salad. So when I am speed-walking at mach 5 in that lane outside the sidewalk, yeah - the one where there's always horse shit - STAY THE FUCK OUT OF MY WAY! That's the non-tourist lane! Yeah, you go back to the sidewalk, because I think that nice young man over there wants to know if you like comedy. Thank you.

OK, OK, I am back

So will you stop bugging me now, Mr. Bourgeois Deviant? Sheesh.

I think I stopped posting for so long because writing about my migraines, while initially liberating, because annoying. I didn't want to devote any more of my life to them that I spent already - huddled in bed with a blackout mask and two icepacks on my head. Hot, right? You totally want me.

So I am writing about other thing? What things, you ask. Who the hell knows.

Kicked in the butt by karma

Well, I never should've told a aingle soul that I hadn't had a migraine in 2 weeks because, guess what, I got one at 2:30am this morning. I hereby forbid anyone from inquiring into the state of my head from this day forth. Please!!! Luckily, I felt it coming on and went to bed early, and when I awoke at the early hour with that familiar pre-migraine intense pain and nausea I was prepared with Imitrex. I have discovered that 50mg is sufficient for most days, which is certainly a money-saver (those little triangles of salvation cost $25 each at full retail!).

...which brings me to my rant: why the heck is this stuff so expensive??? I fear that I am paying for the drug companies wining and dining of prominent doctors rather than for their years on research and development. I am hoping that the patent is up soon so that a generic may invade the marketplace. Such is the state of my wish list these days. Hope all are well and pain free!