The Weekend Races

I don’t know what it is. I watch her fix my hair. I’ve gotten her to stop using a curling iron, and now she just blow dries it and puts a little mousse in it. I do things exactly as I watch her do them. When she does it, my hair is all full and poofy looking. When I do it I look as though I stuck my finger in an electrical outlet. There must be some gene related to hair arranging that I missed getting.

Ditto with makeup. I disdained the stuff in my teens, when I had a complexion that allowed me to disdain the stuff. Now in my “waning” years, when I need a few touch-ups here and there, I find that there’s more skill involved to applying face paint than I first realized. Oh, I can match complexion colors and select shades appropriate to my coloring. What I can’t do is apply the make-up so it actually improves my appearance. Granted, there are those out there who have observed I have a “radio face” (as in unfit for television), but I’ve had makeovers done that actually improve things without making me look “made-up”. Oh well, you can consider me a piece of cheap programming. WYSIWYG.

The kitten races went really well. It’s difficult walking into a situation where everyone knows everyone else, and they all know exactly what job they’re there to do, when you know no one and have no clue of what’s expected of you. They went out of their way to make me feel welcome though, and by the end I was selling bets with the best of them. I have pictures, which I hope to post to my diary tonight. Further explanations of kitten races will come when I get those posted.

Sunday was a lost day. I woke up with a headache, which stayed with me when The Socialist and I went out to lunch at a local buffet/Mongolian barbecue he’d located. (The Mongolian barbecue wasn’t as good as the one in California, by the way.) We went to Trader Joe’s afterwards, to spot shop for a few things, but by the time we got there I suspected the headache wasn’t going away any time soon. When we got home I lay down on the couch, and I only moved from the couch to head up to bed a few hours later. In that period of time the headache had developed into a full-blown migraine, complete with light sensitivity and nausea.

I really hope this recent spate of migraines is just a freak thing and has nothing to do with the meds I’m taking. I’d like to believe that they’ll eventually go away on their own.

This morning I went to get blood pulled for my periodic tests. I went to the local lab, which opened at 6:00 am. My plan was to be there at 6:00 promptly, so I could be in and out with a minimum of fuss. And my plan would have worked too, save for one small thing.

The lab has changed their hours (with no notice to their loyal patrons, I might add). It now opens at 7:00. Left with an extra hour on my hands, I popped into a local diner, had a breakfast sandwich and some tea, and showed up again at 6:45, only to find five people in line ahead of me. *sigh* I guess I should have just stuck around and waited.

I warned the vampire they assigned to me at the lab that it was difficult to find the veins in my right arm, but that he’d have to deal with a lot of scar tissue in my left arm (everybody “sticks” me in the left, so I have the start of a really nasty track mark there). He decided to be macho, and go for the right.

He missed. After several redirects, he gave up and told me in the future not to even offer the right arm as an option, but just tell people to take blood from the left. Considering that I think he nailed the nerve on his last attempt, I think I’ll do exactly that from here on out.