A Series Of Updates, None Of Which Are Very Funny

Nothing new going on really. A few funny things have happened recently. Not haha funny. More like yikes funny.

One day last week the blind woman that makes the same Metro commute I do got on the train right as the doors were about to shut. I had long since sat down, and someone sat next to me in the aisle seat. This woman (who I once saw trip another young girl with her cane/stick/poker thing at the L'Enfant station- awesome) makes it onto the train and tries to fumble for a seat. Nobody gives her one. How classy is that? So she has to try to find her way down the aisle with her poker and she ends up just fucking ringing her head on the center pole. I mean, it sounded like a fucking church bell. I couldn't help it, I laughed. But come on, it was pretty funny. Of course I know I'm going to hell, but no way I can be as bad as the people who couldn't be bothered to let her have their seats. But wait, I did immediately wonder if maybe she hit her head so hard that she could see again. Okay, maybe I'm just as bad as the rest of them.

The other day at work I (and everyone else in the company, inappropriately) received an email advertising a pair of tickets to see the Indigo Girls at Wolf Trap. I was on the phone with Baby at the time, so I asked her in my always inappropriately loud voice if she wanted them. Baby likes one female singer. Joan Jett. That's it, that's the list. Indigo Girls is not exactly her thing, but we had a laugh because neither of us knew the Indigo Girls were even still alive. The following day the girl that sits directly across from me was telling a friend who dropped by how much she loved the Indigo Girls show last night and, like, oh my god thank you so much for the tickets!

I had extra tickets to the Nats game on Sunday and nobody to go with. So I screwed up my courage and went by myself. I have never been to anything like that (including movies) by myself before, so this was quite an accomplishment for me. I celebrated by selling my three extra tickets for beer money and drinking by myself in beloved Section 470. Not long after I sat down the people who ended up buying my tickets from a scalper showed up. We shared a laugh, and the woman with them swore she knew me from somewhere. After a lot of guessing it turns out she's seen me at the Black Cat before. No shock there. I spend most of the afternoon talking to her fiance, but a good deal of the time speaking with her as well. They've both very nice. As the game ends we're all pretty drunk, and we shake hands and exchange nice to meet yous. She then kisses me on the cheek. Awkward! This woman isn't European, and we're at a baseball game and sweating, not in some hipster hang out. I had no idea what to do, I was literally paralyzed. And from the look on the fiance's face, he wasn't stoked either. What the fuck was that all about?

At the same game I stumbled to the bathroom and somehow ran into the latch that they must apparently sometimes use to lock the entire bathroom. I use this bathroom 20 times a week, and I'd never noticed it before. It's on the outside door that leads into the concourse, and it's jagged and rusty. It took a chunk out of my arm. I am, without a doubt, dying of hepatitis and lord knows what else. Seriously, every time I think about it I want to pass out.

News reports came out yesterday warning that the drug I take to treat my leukemia causes congestive heart failure in a small number of people who take the drug. Because hypochondriacs with leukemia got nothing else to worry about. Concerned friends sent me the news articles all day. Luckily for my hypochondria, the symptoms of congestive heart failure include really distinct things like being tired and sometimes coughing. Each time a new email came in I climbed a little further out on the ledge. But then my dad called me to tell me he'd heard that my drug might cause congestion, so I should be careful. Thanks pops, good looking out.