So let me just start by saying that I am supremely amused by all of the hullabaloo going on in Boston right now. Rock on Aqua Teen Hunger Force for doing your terrorism through Lite-Brite intimidation thing. I mean, I know if I saw glowing Mooninites giving me the finger from the awning of a BU dorm, the first thing I would think is, "Oh my God! Terrorists!" And then I would call every single major media network in the country to tell them that a children's toy from the early 1990s is about to destroy Boston University. How could the police not call in the bomb squad? I'm sorry. I'm not making light of potential terrorist attacks. I am, however, making light of the fact that if any one of those people who panicked had checked with any one of the rampant twenty-somethings in Boston, all of their fears would have been assuaged by the assurances that these are merely cartoon characters. And more importantly, there's going to be an Aqua Teen movie. I mean, how sweet is that?
In other news, my three days of clinic treatments are finished. I am pumped full of chemicals and am officially inaugurated into what one doctor referred to as the "intensification" period. I'm a little sore and headache-y, and my lower back still hurts a bit from the spinal tap, but aside from that, I feel fine. No more nausea, which is splendid. No violent rejections by my body to anything either. So that's exciting. I slept pretty much all day yesterday, and I'm still tired. Haha, I've grown unaccustomed to early wake-ups. No more 6 am shifts at the Pro-shop for me. And that's pretty much all I've got to report about my well-being right now. I'm well; I'm being. It's all good.
A brief rant, if you will humor me: some kid from Chicago got tickets to the Super Bowl. Oh, and do you know why he got tickets? Because he's got cancer. They announced that on the local news, and I was just like, "Psh, just because he's little and cute and has no hair, he gets tickets?" The funny (or sad) thing is that he's probably got leukemia, which is the most common type of cancer in children. So I hope he enjoys his Miami sun and the Super Bowl fun from his seats in the stadium. I hope he enjoys it for me. And for himself too, I guess.
Well, I'm off to sleep, wonderful, wonderful sleep. Oh, and I also hope that everyone knows not to take what I say too seriously or the wrong way. I harbor very few ill-feelings towards people, and those will rarely seriously come up in here. So, enjoy Friday. Because it's Friday! Pax.
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Psst: Correct me if I'm wrong, I don't think they start throwing those last-wish-pity-gifts at you unless you've got cancer really, really, REALLY bad. (Not that your cancer isn't bad, but I bet this kid's got like, the Shaft of cancers, the baddest bad motherf--shut your mouth! What? I'm just takin' 'bout Shaft!) So I'd think you might want to be kind of glad that at the end of your spinal tap session your doctor wasn't like flinging coupons for romantic cruises and phone numbers of compassionate male escorts at you. Or, at least, I'm kind of glad about that.
In other news: When are you going to come visit me and have a sleepover in the Dorkitory? This is important; it is information that is essential to me. I must know when to drag a mattress over from the Pie. Mmmm, pie.
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