10 December 2003

Watch as the Forces of the Universe Unite Against Me


The Gods have unfavorable plans for me, my friends. Worst News Week (TM) ever.

--For those of you not formally acquainted with myself, I am a medical foul ball. I have/have had no less than all of the following maladies: heart murmur, hypoglycemia, vertigo, mononucleosis, acute chronic tonsillitis (requiring tonsilectomy), and a bout with Cytomegalovirus that left me paralyzed for nearly a month with transverse myelitis (as a result of the tonsilectomy).

I have been all over the place. Because of the last mentioned affliction, I must get regular bloodwork done for the next two years to keep watch on the ol' Immune System, mine of which is crap. You know that bar in any given college town that is notorious for letting in anyone, including all the underage kids, knowing full-well they'll get in trouble and lose their license? Well, my Immune System apparently employs the same bouncers.

In any event, I get my bloodwork done and get a call from my doctor. He's asking me all kinds of questions about my eating habits since he moved me to my 1200 calorie/day diet five days a week (I'm pretty good with it) and my exercise patterns (the who with the what now?). After providing my answers, he tells me my blood sugar levels are hellish and that my insulin levels fluctuate more than Mariah Carey's sanity. Basically, my hypoglycemia is bordering on diabetic. With two or more members of my immediate family having such a disease, the prognosis is not good, unless I make changes. He asks me in a dense tone, "So how does this sound?" (always a bad sign):

--1200 calorie intake seven days a week
--No sugar and nothing that can be processed as sugar, which means...
--No carbohydrates
--No alcohol
--Multivitamin regimen
--Fiber pills
--Emergency sugar pills
--40 minutes running/day
--Eight month minimum contract. $250 fee for Early Termination. See website for details.

How does that sound? It sounds like The Atkins Diet for The Hitler Youth, you limey f*ck. I swore openly a few times over the phone about the "No alcohol" portion of my new "Lifeplan" (I hate that terminology, it sounds like insurance you would sell a gay couple) and cursed everything dealing with Modern Medicine. He took it in stride, as Dr. Smithton does, because he's the best doctor in the world, really, and informed me that I didn't have to do it, and if I chose not to that's OK, he'll just fax over an order form for my first month's supply of twice-daily insulin injections.

I chose Hell over the needles.

The worst part is that my metabolism has denigrated to that of a 60 year old man, which is not good, and this should fix it, which is good. But I'm not ready to talk about the "No alcohol" clause yet. Maybe some other time.

Basically, be glad you aren't me if you weren't already, which most of you are, so I'm wasting my time talking about nothing right now.

--Continuing the trend, my friends strive to make life hard for me.

There is a girl that works in the mall across from my store who has been trying to get with me for several weeks now. I say this not out of arrogance but just out of fact, and God knows females rarely approach me, so I can't be making this up. It's not that she's so bad looking--she's not. Fantastic body. Huge boobies. Phenomenal. But she has two major factors working against her: an atrocious manvoice/lisp combo and the fact that she is certifiably insane. I mean criminally unbalanced. From her stories (none of which are verifiable) she grew up in Brooklyn, her brother went to jail for a gangland shooting, she got kicked out of the Marines, and she recently totaled a brand new Mustang convertible that she paid $23,000 for, but was only allotted $7,000 in her insurance settlement. She's constantly dropping me hints like, "Man, it's a pain finding a ride home," and, "If you don't feel like driving back to York, you can crash at my place, I got my own place now," all the while splicing in comments such as, "Yeah, I've been sick all week, throwing up and stuff. I think it's the flu, but I hope I'm just not pregnant. Because I don't take birth control. It gives you cancer." These conversations, obviously, make me insatiably horny to the point where I want to marry her.

Until last night, I had made it three solid weeks without so much as making eye contact or asking her name. Of course my friends that I work with all find this hilarious because hey, it's not them. Were I in their shoes I feel certain I'd partake in similar enjoyment. Last night this girl comes in again. Little do I know, my buddy Jay has a plan. As she's talking to me, he walks up to us. The horrific conversation that follows:

JAY: "Hey, what are you doing?"
MINDY: "Nothing."
JAY: "You giving Geoff your phone number?" (Jay, what the f*ck are you doing?)
MINDY: "What?"
(Geoff's head is down, folding shirts, trying not to laugh)
JAY: "You should give him your phone number. So you two can hang out sometime after work." (Jay, why? Stop. Please.)
MINDY: "He doesn't want my number."
JAY: "Yeah he does, don't you? You'll call her." (You motherf*cker.)
MINDY: "He won't call me."
GEOFF (head down): "She's right. I don't call anyone. I never use my phone."
JAY (handing her piece of paper): "He's just being shy. Here's his number. You can call him. Tear a piece off and write your number on it." (Son of a b*tch.)
(Mindy begins writing number. Mindy enters Geoff's number into cell phone. All hell breaks loose in Geoff's head.)
JAY: "Did you ever even know Geoff's name? Geoff, do you know hers?" (Holy f*cking sh*t, you sonofab*tch c*cksucking assraping c*mguzzler.)
(Mindy hands Geoff piece of paper. Geoff reads name "MINDY". Small guttural emission from Geoff.)
MINDY: "I'm Mindy."
GEOFF (head still down): "I...I...just met another girl named Mindy last week. I'm on a roll I guess." (Jesus Christ you idiot, stop talking.)

And that's the end of the ordeal. She leaves. Everyone in the store who is not me is in hysterics. Greatest Thing Ever I guess. All I can contemplate is revenge, but I'm laughing so hard because g*ddamnit, if it hadn't been me it really would have been funny. G*ddamn my life. G*ddamn it all to Hell.

I'm going to need a CAT san.

--Here is something that is truly an enigma to me. This is a break from the norm, an honest query for which I'd like an honest answer from anyone "in the know", as it were.

If you are a lesbian, great. I love lesbians, the idea of two women getting together. Sometimes three. Maybe four on my birthday. Go for it. I'm not here to judge. But if you are a lesbian, you are by definition attracted to other women, as are heterosexual men.

What I am befuddled by is the propensity for so many lesbian women to be attracted to the "Butch" type--typically male haircut, typically male clothing, etc. It's so confusing--as a male attracted to females, I want a female...that looks like a female. Girly. Isn't that the point? You're attracted to females. Why do you want to be with someone that looks like a guy? It doesn't make sense. If that's what you want, date a guy.

Does this seem unreasonable? I know the style is partly, for many, a social statement of rebellion of the female archetype, which I can understand if not appreciate. Why do lesbians who just look like regular females have to be labeled as "Lipstick Lesbians", like they are somehow less? I'm way far from understanding this. Someone shed light. Preferably 100 Watt or higher.

--One of Yahoo!'s Top Five stories of the day today was Elvis Costello marrying someone named Diana Krall. Does anyone know anyone who gives even a Remote Flying F*ck (TM)? Tomorrow I'm asking that Yahoo! post my riveting "Man Drives Nearly 286 Miles on One Tank of Gas" featurette.


Suggested viewing for the theatrically challenged.

1) Unbreakable--M. Night Shayamalan's unfortunately overlooked followup to The Sixth Sense. With all the Comic Book style movies coming out recently, this one could be considered a trendsetter. Very deliberate but quite good, and with the famous M. Night twist ending.

2) Rob Zombie's House of 1000 Corpses--I have been on a serious horror kick of late. This is not a "good" movie in the sense of what you'd usually look for. But it's disgusting. And it's fun. And g*ddamnit, listen to me for once.

3) 28 Days Later...--A much different film than the previous, and better, in my opinion. The DVD has alternate endings that are great.

4) License To Drive--I know I have mentioned this before. First of all, you cannot go wrong with the Coreys. Second of all, is there anything wrong with a young and supple Heather Graham? Production values? Low. Level of my Irantenessosity Meter that this is not on DVD? High.

5) Following--First film by the director of Memento, one of my all-time favorites. You won't know a damn person in the movie, but it's very well written and executed. Next up for Nolan? Batman: Intimidation (or Batman 5, for you idiots). This one will house Halle Barry as Catwoman (a role which Ashley Judd turned down, sadly enough) and Christian Bale as Bruce Wayne/Batman. That's right. Patrick Bateman is Batman. The Gods are shining upon us, my friends. And by "us" I of course mean "all except me".