Quitting While You’re Behind
My car is dead. D-E-D, dead.
Well, for two thousand or so I could fix it. But I’ve been through that at least once in the last twelve months (with this car), so I think not.
It’s sad to say goodbye to a car, no matter how much it costs to run (about $100 a month if I left it in the garage the whole time). I think this car was my husband’s first vehicle (other than a motorbike on the farm) so it won’t be easy to let it go. But it’s time.
Dr Yes: Spy Car from U.N.C.L.E.
I never saw the show this car is from (and it only appeared in a few episodes), but I like to think the girl comes with it.
The vehicle had many mock features, including flame throwers, machine guns, rocket lauchers, laser beams, a radar screen, parachute, and various hidden interior devices. It even had operating marine propellers, but the car was not amphibious.
Note the rocket launcher tubes in the gullwing doors.
One of the teensy problems with the car was getting in and out (like THAT’S important).
“You should have seen Stephanie try to get in and out in a skirt in those days” said George Lehr, associate producer of the series. “Trying to get up over that step and into the gullwing (door opening) in a hurry was a feat. She told us ‘You guys are crazy’.”
The car is now owned by a fan of the show.
Dr Yes: Further ninja cats
I found these over at http://www.nocleansinging.com/2010/03/07/catz/
and recognised what they were (evil ninjas) immediately.
Dr Yes: Spy Gadgets
You’ll love today’s spy gadget – and it’s made in China. I want a watch that had a video recorder, camera, and USB!
Dr Yes: Spy Gadget
“Dr Yes” has been running almost a week, so it’s high time for some high-tech gadgetry. Below is just one of a multitude of different cameras found at www.minispycamera.org/spy_camera.htm
Hm…pictures aren’t working. You’ll just have to click on the link and see for yourselves.
Medical Drama
No more Flagyl-ation for me. I still have giardia (I assume; one of the symptoms of Flagyl pills is nausea), but the pills are having the following side effects:
1. Bad taste in my mouth anytime I’m not eating (in a not-very-shocking twist, I’ve gained over 1.5 kilos since I began taking them). Apparently this is because of the overgrowth of Candida (a kind of yeast).
2. Minor pains, headaches, etc.
3. Skin sensitivity, which this morning became officially a rash – much like the rash I get from penicillin, which I’m allergic to. I thought this’d be the winner in getting me off the meds, but no; this is:
4. Very mild tingling in left leg one night.
#4 Apparently means my head will fall off (that IS what peripheral neuropathy MEANS, right?) Well ok, I think “peripheral neuropathy” actually means “mild tingling in leg at night”, but it’s something you’re meant to tell your doctor, STAT! so, since my doctor is shut for two days, I’ll just stop taking it until then.
Since nausea is a symptom of both the disease and the cure, I may be better by then.
Normally I would never stop taking antibiotics partway through a course (although, to be fair, it was initially meant to only take a week).
DR YES: story so far
1.
I unclipped Yen’s handcuffs and went down on one knee under the tropical sun of her prison-island home. “My darling, will you marry me?”
*
“’Kay,” she said.
I stood and kissed her tenderly, then ran for the chaplain. When he was ready to go, I decided to freshen up.
* (3 hour gap)
I emerged resplendent to find the priest knocked out, my ornithopter gone, and my fiancé. . . well, she was obviously still doing her hair.
2.
The love of my life, gone! She may still be cross that I killed her power-mad mum. But surely she doesn’t STILL want to destroy the world?
*
Time to be a super-handsome super-spy again. Thank goodness for plastic surgery. Yen was born in Beijing, so I got a flight there at once.
*
I was met at the airport by a strangely attractive nun who took me deep underground before telling me the horrible truth: “Yen’s my cousin.”
3.
In laws! They’re always so tetchy. I let the nun torture me a few hours and then knocked her out with a high-kick to the face. Then I fled.
4.
I searched for Yen in the shopping district. As I tried on an especially snazzy shirt in the back, I heard the nun’s nasal tones.
*
The evil nun was apparently in league with my shopkeeper! A deadly pair! I duct-taped shut the mouths of the other patrons and listened in.
*
“Yen’s in Beijing – and so’s that British superspy,” said the nun.
The shopkeeper said, “We’ll kill them both!”
“Perfect. Hey, nice shirts!”
5.
I bought hundreds of TV and streetside ads warning Yen of her mortal danger – and asking her to pretty please return my ornithopter.
*
As I returned to my hotel after another day of searching, I found a single long-stemmed black rose on my pillow. She still loved me!
Dr Yes: Metalhead Steampunk Party
Okay, okay. I’m going ON about steampunk. But with good reason.
Here’s a steampunk dragon:
http://kerembeyit.deviantart.com/art/Steampunk-Dragon-130083473
And HERE is my friend’s metalhead steampunk party:
http://steffmetal.com/steampunk-birthday-party-great-bogan-train-robbery/
Smorgasblog
2am. Can’t sleep. Random blogliness ensues.
There’s much gratuitous cuteness today at http://twittertales.wordpress.com
*
A couple of nights ago, my cat was sitting on my husband’s chest, purring loudly as my husband snored. I slid out of bed and crept around to the other side to get his iphone to record them both. My attempt was foiled when my partner woke up and helpfully passed me his flashlight.
*
I have to take another 21 anti-parasite pills. It’s at the point now where I’m pretty sure the pills are worse than what’s left of my giardia. They leave a permanent bad taste in my mouth (sore throat, too) as if I’ve just thrown up. It vanishes for about five minutes after I eat, then reappears.
*
My husband and efficiency don’t get along, so I’m attempting to write a sort of will – more a set of instructions for if I suddenly die (stuff like the phone numbers of all my students so someone actually tells them why I don’t show up). If he dies, it’s a lot simpler for me, because I AM efficient. All I need to do is:
1. Get his insurance money to pay for the funeral. Register for the dole to pay for rent and food.
2. Throw stuff away (mostly his) and move somewhere smaller.
3. Take happy pills and/or avoid human contact.
I wish I knew the statistics for how often spouses drop dead/are killed in the first, say, ten years of marriage. Pretty sure rational data would help dissipate my conviction that SOMETHING bad has to be about to happen. My marriage really is the easiest thing about my life.
*
Avocados: so delicious, but so risky. Does buying a rock-hard avocado EVER result in an edible avocado? I think not.
*
World’s most terrifying slogan (for Kresta blinds):
Windows come ALIVE!
*
Wish I could sleep. This is silly.
*
Mental illness is a lot like PMS, plus having a vital assignment due at 5pm, and also being naked.
It’s all about incoherant rage, a sense of doom (and guilt), and humiliation.
It’s also a lot like being a teenager (is there any experience more horrifying?) or being old (when suddenly you can’t do things you used to be able to do).
Still can’t quite convince myself I’m not making the whole thing up. What kind of s*** would that make me, after all these years?
It’s just so. . . stupid. I should be able to walk it off.
*
On Monday I made oat cookies with brown sugar, butter, flour, oats, cinnamon and vanilla. The raw mixture was infinitely better than the biscuits. Why is that always the case?
Luckily I mostly just ate the mixture.
*
Yesterday I had a D and M with a student about boys. She’s stunningly gorgeous, but doesn’t want to get into a relationship until she’s well into a degree. That was cool. Especially finding out people actually still say, “D and M”. Wow.
*
I wish I was friends with Queen Elizabeth, so she could tell me how to sell my writing. I think she might be the greatest self-promoter ever.
*
Pretty sure that if I just go into cryogenic suspension, one of my books will be published.
But not completely sure. Got to keep writing more better-er while I wait.
