Would it REALLY REALLY have been so hard to add vowels in this so carefully thought-out, eloquent review of a Facebook application? Maybe some valid consonants? A few spell checkers?

I ask you, really? That hard? I mean, you're sitting in front of the FREAKIN' KEYBOARD. Good lord, woman, learn to use it.

So, here I am on a Saturday night, wondering where the day has gone.

No, really, where has the day gone? Because I swear I went to bed, then woke up and realized it was gone.

Because, well, it was.

This month's migraine started yesterday as I was standing in line at the post office (where "post office" has been written alternately as "driveway" and "mailbox" in my current, still-under-the-migraine influenced, befuddled brain). I had been planning on taking the train up to the City to have dinner with Elina, who had graciously allowed me to reschedule to last night from the night before when some work tasks became overwhelming. I gave her a call, asking if I could reschedule my trip up there AGAIN, of also asked if maybe she wouldn't mind heading down, since I'd be blind in an hour and back to seeing in an hour or so. She seemed to happily agree, so dashed off to the train station as I dashed off to the bed.

We had a good evening, tooling around downtown Palo Alto, and heading back to Sunnyvale for ColdStone ice cream (mmmmmmmmm!).

I managed to stay away until about 11 last night, though mostly because the head was a bound, bound, bounding. Eventually I gave up, downed a vicodin (thank you Mr. Tyler C. Grant), and passed out.

Sometime around 6:00 AM, I woke up to the dawning day.

Only to realize the light was coming from the wrong side of the room.

Looking back to my feet, I then realized the "day glow" I was seeing was from the bright dawn of the World of Warcraft, and Kris was still up playing.

Oh.

I stumbled out of bed, teased him a little bit, then went back to bed, waking up at 11:30 AM, a fact I realized only after I stumbled into the kitchen for breakfast. Kris woke up at 1:30 in the afternoon, all of thirty minutes before my vision decided that, well, it had had enough.

I went back to bed and back to sleep. Andy came over with dinner for the three of us some time around six to feed us. I was in the hot hot bath with more over-the-counter painkillers, and a few not-so over-the-counter painkillers, than I'e had in a good number of months. If I'm pregnant, this kid is going to be born unable to feel any pain. After eating some food, touch and go for a while if it would stay down, I went off to get some online work done before either the headache or vision problems came back (read: write this).

Someone once told me that migraines are my body's way of telling me to slow down.

Well, someone, please, tell my body, I'm already STANDING STILL.

"Cast out into the universe and see what comes back."

Randomly, possibly inspired by a conversation I had with the woman at the front desk of the vet's this morning about her son, Jason (a conversation itself inspired by my Nationals hat!), I asked Jessica what ever happened to Jason Freitag, a boy I went to school with back in Indiana. She looked up his information in the latest reunion book, and said, other than he graduated 5th in the class, there wasn't any information about him.

Fifth in the class? Well, that lead to the question of who was in the top ten of her graduating class, given that I didn't graduate with her. She listed a number of names, though not all ten, then commented on the people not in the list.

Well, duh, ME.

A couple other "expected" people in the list who weren't there, where expectations were set in the ninth grade, before the two junior high schools merged into one great, gigantic, green and white high school, included Marth Meyers (looking fabulous at the reunion, though) and Jill Bodensteiner.

Jill, eh?

Shortish. Played basketball. Awesome red hair, right?

Yeah.

I couldn't find a single recent picture of her (curse you, Google! and the spiders you're built on!). My memory of her, however, is that she looked very, very similar to an ex-coworker of mine. Said ex-coworker also has no pictures of himself online, which is a shame, actually, because I burned all of mine of him in a voodoo ceremony designed to increase wealth and breast sizes (yeah, don't ask, bitterness may set in again).

So, even if I could find one of Jill, I wouldn't be able to find one of him to compare.

I shrugged at the injustice of my inability to gain gratification of instant curiousity appeasement, and went back to work, thinking not much of it.

Fast forward six hours, and I'm standing around with Kris and Warren at their first softball game of this particular league's season, wondering just what level of frustration Kris has gotten himself in for, laughing at some particularly entertaining joke someone just told, when I look over to my left and right there, Right There, RIGHT THERE is my ex-coworker.

He didn't see me, which is fine, because I probably would have punched him in the face if he actually approached me to say hello. I watched him a little bit, realizing that my memories of his looks were a LOT different than reality, and his demeanor was probably similar to Jill's, hence my belief they looked alike.

I couldn't help but marvel, however, just how strange this world is sometimes with its coincidences. I think I'll go add Illusions to my reading list for tomorrow's train ride.

I get migraine headaches.

There. I've admitted it. The world now knows I have migraine headaches, and they suck. A lot of people have "migraines," which are really just tension headaches, or stress induced headaches. Sucky suck for them, because, yes, it's a headache, but it's not really. Not REALLY a migraine.

I'm one of the lucky (yeah, in quotes, "LUCKY") ones who also have auras before a migraine. The percentage ranges from 12% to 25% of the people who have migraines who also have visual disturbances (auras) before the doozy of a migraine hits, depending on which study you read. I've tried to figure out how to tell people what I'm seeing, that I'm about to go blind and I have fifteen minutes to get someplace safe before I lose my sight, but most people just don't understand.

Here's how I describe what I see: imagine looking at something and not seeing borders. Like, look at my face. Now, you see the wall behind me. Imagine the border between my face and the wall gone, but in such a way that you don't notice the loss of the border.

If the wall is blue, and my face distinctly not blue, then it's obvious where the border between my face and the wall is. However, when I'm experiencing the preliminary auras of a migraine, that border is gone, EVEN BETWEEN TWO VERY DIFFERENT COLORS. It's gone, and I don't know it's gone. It's very disconcerting.

I've thought about doctoring an image to show what I see. The preliminary auras are mostly a lost of borders. After a short while, I see a bright spot, like looking at a really bright light (try the sun, but in a much smaller space), and the emptiness from looking at the bright spot and looking away. The brightness will grow, typically into a thin arc, with zig-zag iridescent lights. The arc and zig-zag lights are typical auras for most migraine sufferers.

But that doctored image...

Turns out, I took a picture that shows what I'm talking about.

If you zoom in and look at Sarah's face, the border of her face is blurred into the hair of the girl behind her. However, the color of her hair is the same as the trees in the background. Just looking at the close up of this section makes my stomach turn the way it does when I'm about to go blind from a migraine aura (which tells me, it's a learned response and not really part of the migraine, something I should work on stopping next migraine).

This is the closest I've come to what I see with the borders blurred. I'll have to work on the blinding zig-zag line next.

He shook his head. "The third hole's the hardest," he said.

Went for another run today. Surprisingly so, given that my legs have the delicious workout soreness from either yesterday's run or Sunday's ultimate. Today I decided to run a shorter distance, but run it harder. I have no idea what prompted this thought, though traffic, and not being able to cross the street easily because of it, may have had something to do with it.

Once again, on this run, I lamented that I didn't have a camera, nor the time to stop and take pictures of all the flowers that I ran by. I did manage to glare at the man standing at the end of his driveway smoking into the space I needed to run through. I also ran up a yard, onto someone's front porch and around the trailer in his driveway in order to get around the truck attached to the trailer that was parked across the sidewalk.

I think he expected people to walk in the street to walk around his truck. If you're going to park in my right-of-way, you can be damn sure I'm going to walk in your yard.

Sorry about the flower patch I may or may not have danced through on my way out of your yard.

Yeah, I'm not really sorry.

Though I was lamenting the lack of camera, it was my watch I was really missing. I misplaced it a couple days ago, and have been using the non-really synchronized clocks throughout the house and on my computer to remind me to go where I need to go and call who I need to call when I need to call him.

Doesn't work so much when I'm on a run.

This may actually be beneficial.

I ran today noticing how my body felt, instead of running to a time. When I felt better, I ran harder. When I felt icky, I ran more slowly. Somehow that seemed to make the run better. My run was about 5 songs long, so it was anywhere from 15 minutes to 25 minutes long. Seems long enough for me, though today did seem harder than yesterday. I was thinking of subtitling the post, "Day three, just like pee."