Δαφνη Ευτυχια Αρθουρος

Wouldn't it be suckfully ironic to be allergic to an antihistamine?

Where are your legs that used to run, hurroo, hurroo
Where are your legs that used to run, hurroo, hurroo
Where are your legs that used to run,
When you went for to carry a gun
Indeed your dancing days are done
Oh Johnny, I hardly knew ye

From "Johnny I Hardly Knew Ye", the early 19th Century Irish song that most Americans will recognize as the basis for Patrick Gilmore's more cheerful, triumphant, 1863 song, "When Johnny Comes Marching Home"

Pain. Waiting for meds to kick in, after which I'll assess how effective they're being and look at the clock and decide whether to head downtown to catch some of my friends on their way out of Balticon or not. Looks unlikely, but not entirely out of the question. Working on the emotional side of the equation is ookier and harder to write about in a non-whiny fashion, so I'll just note it exists and go on. Did get some sleep, but not much -- had trouble falling asleep after I put my head down. Perrine kneaded my ribs to tell me to get up and feed her, but she was several inches away from the spot that needed the massage.

While breaking fast, I suddenly realized something I should have done in preparation for this weekend but hadn't thought of earlier. (A plan that has its own problems, but which nonetheless may be somewhat useful in the future. Frustrating, of course, to have it cross my mind now.)

Where's my goddamn time machine? I was supposed to bring it back to 1990 and give it to myself shortly before I died in 2059, but it hasn't shown up yet. I hope I didn't get hit by a bus in the meantime or have a heart attack before the time machine was perfected or something. Where do I write to complain to the author?

I've gotten used to associating with groups of people where more than half of them either own a PDA or occasionally interact with someone else's. Yesterday I wanted to show off a program on mine and was in a room where only one other person was already familiar with how one writes on a PDA that doesn't have a keyboard. Kind of resets my expectations a bit.

(Never felt well enough to go out. Resting. Trying to get a bit more sleep.)

1. When the antihstamines just aren't doing the trick and I'm getting tired of having to breathe through my mouth, I am all the more grateful for wasabi peas. (Thank you, anniemal.) Despite the "slightly spicy" description on the packaging, these are actually all over the map with regard to intensity. One pea merely sweet, the next ear-popping, and the one after that in between.

2. Immediately after eating a fair number of wasabi peas, malta tastes very different from how it usually does. A much lighter flavour with an almost citrus-y taste. In fact, it tastes nothing at all like malta. I wonder how long it takes for my taste buds to recover from the wasabi.