Necrotising Fasciitis

So there I am.... a month or so ago, I happen to notice that I have whacked my thumb on some unknown object, thus getting a tiny cut and little bruise at the edge of the nail. I figure, no big deal. i will just clean it up, put a band-aid on it, and go on my merry way. But nothing, and I do repeat nothing in my life can ever be so simple. A couple of days later, my thumb decides that the skin in that area is really just a luxury and begins to slough off said expendable epidermis. "Now that can't be good," I say to myself. But figure, ah, what the hell... it will heal eventually. Apparently not. I began to crack jokes that I had necrotising fasciitis, and that any day the thumb would just fall off. However, as time progressed, and the peeling of the skin, I realized maybe I should consider seeing my doctor. So I did. And you know what? I don't think she has a fucking clue what she's doing. I saw the "other" doctor in the office; the same one who, when I had a sinus infection, proceeded to treat me as though I had ebola. Needless to say, I didn't have particularly high hopes for her. Her astute opinion was that I had an infection in my thumb. Ahoy, Captain Obvious. Did I really just pay money for such a crackerjack diagnosis?

Lola Rides

So the incredibly uncoordinated, accident prone Lola decided she would get her motorcycle license, as a bike was given to her for her birthday. So Lola dutifully looked up a class that would not only teach her to ride, but exempt her from the Evil RMV's Road Test. What she did not realize is that August is a horrific month in which to be riding a bike at slow speeds, with long sleeves and long pants on. This is a lesson she will not need to learn again any time soon. As Lola progressed through the class, she discovered two things: she cannot physically multitask very well, as "counterweight turning" requires, and tight U-turns on a bike are her nemesis. So much so, in fact, that she failed to do it even remotely within the box during the practice. She actually wasn't even in the box more often than not. However, due to some final epiphany and urgent praying, she managed to nail that particular maneuver in the test, thus winning the approval not only of her instructor, but applause from the class as well. But, despite her trials and tribulations, Lola did in fact pass the test, and now is street legal. She is still as yet uncertain as to whether this is good, or bad for the rest of the people on the road.

I'll Have a Pint

This past March, I went to Ireland to celebrate St. Patrick's Day, and my friend Kellie's 30th birthday (coincidentally, the same day). This is a trip that had been almost two years in the making. The night before we left, Kellie informs me that she just realized her passport is expired. "Truly, she jests," I think to myself, only to hear her father ranting in the background about special appointments at the passport office in Boston. Well, needless to say, I flew to Ireland without her. She was, however, able to get a new passport and flight, and met up with our tour a few days later (up until she arrived, most of the people I had met thought she was my imaginary friend). But I digress.... What is the first thing I went to visit in Ireland? The Guinness Storehouse, of course! And I firmly believe, no matter what anyone says, Guinness IS different over there. The country is absolutely gorgeous; there is a reason why it is called the Emerald Isle. I spent entirely too much money, bought too much stuff, and had a fabulous time. On Kellie's birthday, I took her on a pub crawl in Killarney, and got her royally tossed (she even drunk-dialed her mother). I figure that's what good friends do; they get you completely wrecked in foreign countries. At least, that's what I hope my friends will do for me!

Lola Rising

Lola's life tends to be a bizarrely wrought tragicomedy. However, as her life as been significantly less than tragic and certainly not too comical as of late, she has been rather remiss in updating her blog. What a sad state of affairs it is when a Diva has not a thing to write about in a blog that very few people (besides herself, of course) read! That is something she will have to remedy.

Lola's Anniversary!

For shits and giggles Lola decided to look back to her first Blog post. And what did she find? That she has been writing this blog for just over a year! She is somewhat nauseated and dizzied by the fact that a year has so quickly flown by. Much has happened in said year; some good, some bad, some incredibly hilarious happenings. There was the opening post lamenting over her lack of physical activity, and subsequent issues of clothing designers being depicted as Succubi from Hell. Many an adventure, such as offing the wasps with over the counter Napalm, wearing Noodles in the water so as not to float away whilst inebriated, and many a laughable incident while driving to or from NJ. There have also been somewhat serious posts (altho relatively few; Lola does NOT want her readers to think that she is sappy in the least), posts meant for the purpose of solely bitching about the world and and the ridiculous shit that happens. At any rate, Lola would like to thank her 3 semi-faithful readers for enjoying the ride with her. Remember, there will always be an entertaining story that follows the phrase "So there I am....."

Political Woes

As a general rule, I am not a particularly political person. However, with the upcoming election I find myself strangely drawn to the world of politics, the individual contestants (because, lets be serious, this is just a nationwide gameshow), and the "rules" of the game. In my own humble opinion, nothing can be worse than the last 8 wretched years of Dubya's "strategery," but I think that the Hooker in Boots (Sarah Palin) might rate a close second. I am reminded of my earlier post "Cheney/Voldemort '08" which should just be changed to "McCain/Volemort" for more accuracy. For the first time ever, I actually watched a debate (Palin/Biden), with the intent of witnessing what I had hoped would be a royal trainwreck. It wasn't quite as bad as I had hoped, but it was close. She deftly managed to not adequately answer a single question, all the while toting her and McCain's talents as "mavericks." Which, of course, they are not. If she made one more nebulous reference to plans for Iraq, or how to solve the energy crisis, I was going to shoot myself in the head. Now, I think every candidate should be able to choose their own running mate, but I think that McCain's decision has was the final death knell for the Republican party in this election. If he was looking for the Hilary vote, he was sorely mistaken. Just because she has a set of ovaries does not mean that she is remotely qualified to represent the opinions of any modern woman in America today. Quite the opposite; she is, most certainly, the Bridge to Nowhere.

3 A.M. And All is Well... And Boring

It seems that each night that I return to my part time job, the Computer Gods have set another strike against me. First, it was Myspace... although I didn't really give a shit about that because I don't have a Myspace account. Then it was Facebook, which royally irritated me. After all, who is goign to slay dragons and feed my zombies in the middle of the night, if not me?! But the coup d'etat came this evening. As a general rule, I will keep a web page open with my email, so that I can periodically view it, purely to see if any of my friends are awake in the wee hours of the morning to keep me entertained. However, while I can now log into the website, I can no longer click "get email" for that apparently goes against some newly laid down security law that I am beholden to obey. It would appear that these ridiculous people actually expect me to do legitimate work. Unbeknownst to my superiors, there is very little veritable work to be done at 3 A.M. So now what the hell am I going to do? Maybe I shall knit myself a noose.

Silly Trees

So I came dangerously close to winning myself a Darwin award today. There are trees in my yard that have decided to take over with their obnoxiously enormous limbs and leaves, thus blocking out sunlight and devastating my garden. I went to such great pains to start most of the plants by seed, and all that remains are a few piddly onions, and about 7 dwarfish tomatoes that refuse to turn red. But I digress... My father and I decided it was time to wage war on the trees. We first attacked the giant maple in the yard, that is dying a slow and painful death anyway. First, I got out the extension ladder.... only to discover that I was not able to "safely" place it in a spot where I could get to the limbs marked for death. After a few attempts, I realized it was hopeless. But oh no! I was not to be deterred. Like MacGyver, I came up with a new plan, involving some wire cord, a trowel, and brute force. I used the trowel as a weight, and swung said cord like a lasso to capture the moribund limbs, and then dad and I used brute force to yank the bastards from the tree. The most gratifying part is, it actually worked! There was one unfortunate moment, however, when the head of the trowel parted company with the handle mid swing... and went shooting off into the bushes like some sort of maniacal gardening missile, nearly decapitating my cat who was an innocent bystander at the time. However.... I still have some LIVE limbs in the yard that need surgical intervention... I think its time to call my brother in to do the grunt work.

Starry Night

As a general rule, Lola is not an overly romantic, sappy sort of woman. But every now and then, something happens that just takes her breath away. The last night of Lola's vacation on the lake was an exceptionally clear evening. And Lola was with an exceptional man, who had only rarely seen the stars with such little light pollution. So Lola and the man went for a walk to the dock. There, they lay down on the dock and gazed at the stars; something normally way too romantic for Lola, but this was nice. Anyhoo... the time came to go back to the campsite for a traditional marshmallow burning session, so Lola and the man prepared to leave. And right there, under the band of the Milky Way, the man kissed Lola! So simple, so sweet, and yet it took her breath away. By far, the most romantic kiss Lola has ever experienced.

Kinky Sex

For Labor Day Weekend, I decided to go to NH on Lake Winnipesaukee with friends. After a ridiculous stretch at work, I was in dire need of some lazy time, and thought my friend Rich was, too. So I dragged him up to the lake to basically spend 3 days doing nothing; turns out it was one of the better decisions I have made in quite a while. While at the lake, my best friend was rather curious about this guy I had brought along with me, and appropriately began a line of questioning. She, of course, asks innocuous questions, like "Where are you from? " and "What do you do?" Her father, on the other hand, must have thought she was taking the long way round, and chose a more direct approach. "So Rich, are you into kinky sex?" he says... Almost everyone at the table choked on their sandwiches... except for Rich, who replied without missing a beat with, "Yeah. Isn't everyone?" After we all recovered from the massive bout of hysterical laughter, I received a look of approval from my best friend. Which is good... it is quite awkward to date someone who is disliked by your closest friends.