Aaaaah Humbug!

My vibrator saved my life! Wait, that came out wrong. My massager saved my life. You see, it all started yesterday afternoon around 2:00PM. I had to run a lot of errands yesterday, and had to get them ALL done for various reasons.

Here's where the day took me:

• Office Depot- Buy boxes for shipping eBay items, so that the people at the shipping establishment I use don't try to fuck me over by charging me $8 for a $2 box.

• Sprawlmart- Jesus Christ, I fuckin' DREAD going here. Unfortunately, I MUST, since a few weeks ago while getting the car's oil changed I bought a can of Oops! If you've never tried Oops! I highly recommend it. It's friggin' awesome! You know that nerve-racking sticky residue left by price stickers, 9X outta 10? This stuff removes it like magic. There's nothing it can't do. It even removes permanent marker from stuff. It's great. The only thing I've discovered that you CAN'T use it on, is CD cases. It tends to leave them looking "frosted," which is no big surprise really, considering it's mostly made of paint remover-type stuff.

Anyway, I bought a can a few weeks ago, 'cause I finally ran out (after a year and a half). Well, the damn lid is welded shut! And yes, I know how to press down and turn those childproof-style caps. This one wouldn't budge. So, I get there and Matlock puts a hot pink sticker on my can (ahem) so that the nice folk at Walmart don't think I went a' stealin, and I go get in line at customer service with the rest of the flotsam. It was a Spanish-speaking, baby-screaming, b.o.-whiffing, mullet-swingin' nightmare of at least 20 people, so I said 'fuck this!' and went back to the paint department where I originally bought the stuff, with the master plan to remove the sticker (thank God I didn't bite my nails this week), find a can that opens, put a sticker on that and get the fuck OUTTA THERE! Turns out... all the cans' lids are welded shut. Twenty five minutes I'll never see again. Now all I need is a can opener and a funnel...

• Post Office- Ship 2 small eBay items that I can trust myself to package without having a nervous breakdown. One of which I MUST ship, since it was paid for back on October 25. A mere 4 weeks AFTER the auction ended and 3 payment reminders, invoices and 2 eBay threats later. Gee, I hope they didn't mind waiting. When I say "payment must be received in 7 days," I MEAN 7 days. It's not a suggestion, you asshole! Call me old-fashioned, but I enjoy things like electricity, water and food.

• We Stick it 2 U Shipping Center- Ship 4 large, fragile eBay items.

Home- Where I left one of the addresses for one of the goddamn packages I need to ship today!

• Back to the Shipping Center- Kiss $118 goodbye. Don't even get a 'thank you, come again!' (sorry, they're Indian)

• Thrift Town- Since I was just at a Thrift Town 1 day earlier, and noticed that they would be having a 30% sale on all clothing, I naturally assumed our local Thrift Town would be doing the same, since they are a chain. Au contraire! That would be much too convenient for Kirk. I REALLY hate shopping for clothes, and do it MAYBE 3 times a year. However, since I haven't had a decent winter coat in like 7 years, I'm trying to locate one, since my coats pretty much consist of hooded/zip front sweatshirts, 1 nylon rain jacket and 3 80's-licious coats that would guarantee me a spot in the Special Olympics (and don't fit anyway). Well, finding a decent coat that fits me is turning out to be much harder than I thought. And since my affinity for puffy-sleeved acid-washed denim jackets died in 1983, there's not a whole lot of choices at the thrift stores, so far. I'll be continuing my quest to 2 more thrift stores next week, once I've gathered my strength and recouped. I did find a nice, non-polyester, non Teflon/ultra suede (the texture of that shit freaks me the fuck OUT) jacket at Burlington Coat Factory (a local discount coat place), but it was $99.99. :( Me no can afford. Damn me and my good taste! I'll keep you posted on any future developments.

• Ross (in a nearby town)- I SO don't wanna drive this far, but I must, since I bought a box of notecards there yesterday, only to get home and discover some motherfucker had stolen 5 of the 15! Yet, all the envelopes were accounted for. WTF? I know someone stole them because I (like a moron) neglected to notice that the little plastic seal that runs along both ends had been removed. So, I called when I got home yesterday to make sure I could exchange them before I drove all the way back there. I got the exchanged with no hassles.

• Big Lots- I had to make a pit stop at Big Lots, which was next door to Ross, because I was about to vomit from a really bad migraine. You know it's bad if I went and spent money on a bottle of aspirin (and 3 rolls of grape mentos). I chewed 2 tablets right then and there. Gah! They were awful! I normally just chew up my aspirin, but these were some cheapo brand that had some kind of plastic coating. MAN! They were so bitter. Anyone want a slightly used bottle of aspirin?

• Furr's Cafeteria- I thought MAYBE, just maybe I had a headache because I hadn't eaten all day. I've had some oh-so-delicate drama queens friends in the past who practically got the vapors when they didn't eat when they got ready, so I thought maybe that would help. And, since the only cafeteria we have in Arlington is Luby's (aptly-named, since they really stick it up your ass when it comes to prices), I decided to shoot down the freeway a few exits (5 to be exact) and swing by Furr's, whose prices (All you can eat $6.89) and food can't be beat. Besides, I've ALWAYS loved cafeterias. I don't care if they are considered the realm of the Geritol crowd. I find them very comforting and peaceful. So, I get there and eat, but to no avail. I still have a pounding headache when I leave.

By now the traffic is BANANAS and all you can see for miles is taillights. Thank goodness for the access roads, or I might still be there right now.

• Home (again)- Jiggity jog, I'm finally home. I immediately take 2 more aspirins (the good kind in my medicine cabinet), and lay down. I can't get comfortable and any position seems to make my head pound even more. I feel like I'm going to throw up the pain is so bad, so I get up and go to the bathroom. I decide to run myself a very hot bath, which usually tends to help, since I can emerge my head underneath the hot water.

It doesn't work. I take an Alka Seltzer and an Advil gel cap. At this point I have had this headache for 6 hours now. It's 8 o'clock. I try to lay down again, but the pain is so intense I still feel like I'm going to vomit, so I go to the bathroom and search for ANYTHING that could bring some relief. Naturally, the one time I actually NEED the fuckin' Tiger Balm that one of my new-age friends recommended, I can't find it. In case you're unfamiliar with what Tiger Balm is, it comes in a hockey puck-sized tin, kinda like shoe polish. It looks like a big tin of Carmex. Well, if you put some on your temples (it's got a spicy smell to it) it heats up and actually makes the pain subside, esp. when you have REALLY bad headaches. It may all be psychosomatic, but it's worked in the past.

So, no Tiger Balm. Desperate, I put some muscle ache cream (Leftover from when I broke my foot playing racquetball AGES ago) on my left temple. Nothing. Then I flashed on when I was a little kid and I got REALLY bad headaches, my dad would apply an "ancient Indian headache remedy." This consisted of me going into his dresser drawer and getting out a clean handkerchief, which he would roll up and tie, very tightly, around my head. Sure, I looked like Olivia Newton John with a thyroid condition, but I didn't care. It always worked. At the time I thought it was some real magic shit, but now I know it was just counteracting the pressure of my headache. So, looking around I spy the belt of my bathrobe hanging on the hook on the bathroom door. I tie it around my head. Looking like a scene right out of Better Off Dead, where John Cusack tries to kill himself in the garage, I notice that the back of my neck is really, really tight. I get the brainstorm to try and locate my Humbug™* that I bought, like 12 years ago, and actually put it to use to massage the tension out of my neck. I know I've seen it around here somewhere... the dining room closet! Salvation resides on the top shelf!

And that, my friends, is how my vibrator (and an ancient Indian headache remedy) saved my life. The End.

*For those who aren't familiar with the Humbug™, it's a small, handheld personal massager that looks like a bug. You press his nose to turn him on and his little feet are what you use to massage with.
*Coming next week: Pictures from my migraine-inducing adventures in shopping!