Swine Flu Hysteria

I get scared easily. When the guy cut off the guy's head on the bus, I got scared that my head was going to get cut off the next time I took a bus. When that guy killed himself with a Q-tip, I thought I was going to kill myself with a Q-tip. I'm also scared shitless of Swine Flu. Just the sound of it scares me. Pigs. Flu. Pig flu. Holy fuck! And now it's at a Level 5... how many levels are there, anyway? My institution tells me it is prepared, but are they really? I know the wankers in charge of these things and they don't know their asses from their elbows.

Next week I have an appointment with a young woman who will have just arrived from a vacation in Mexico. She's IN Mexico right now. I am already trying to figure out how I can keep her away from me, and away from everyone in my workplace. She needs to stay the fuck away! I don't want her to see that I am completely nuts over here, but I really, seriously want her away!

I am beginning to see that this hysteria I am experiencing runs in my family. I received this email today from a very close relative:

"As soon as I press Send to forward you this email, I'm off with the aforementioned check lists in hand to buy what's needed to top up and my emergency supplies kit. Even though I've recently read that face masks are little help in protecting us from breathing-in the tiny virus germs, I also will buy -- and use -- a box of face masks. At the very least, wearing a mask in crowded places may help keep me from unconsciously touching my nose and mouth, and rubbing my eyes -- the surest way to get whatever is going around."

Oil of Oregano and Blog Revolutions

In case you didn't know this, Oil of Oregano is the hot new "cure" for the common cold. I have a common cold right now. I won't talk about it right now because that's just boring blog material. Let's just say that I jumped on the Oil of Oregano bandwagon. I paid a ridiculous amount of money for the stuff and so far have not been cured.

I am hoping to have more interesting things to blog about soon. In the meantime, I recommend reading Megan's blog . She's changing the world, wallet by wallet. I dreamt about Megan the other night. I dreamt that it was my birthday and she decorated my car. That made me happy.

The Mysterious East folks are creating their own little revolution in N.B. over the New Brunswick Adoption Foundation's ad campaign.

These blogs are inspiring me to start my own little revolution over here.

Purell doesn't work.

Purell doesn't work. I got the office cold. Don't tell me that I wasn't using Purell properly. I used it after every human interaction. Out with Purell. In with Advil Cold and Sinus.

On a completely different note, an anonymous commenter noted that it is friendlier over at the Mysterious East.
I think she's right. I'm not sure if she was talking about the folks in general or the bloggers over there, but I think the comment could apply to both. Let's face it, they are much nicer than we are.

About colds

I lost my battle to the cold. Today it is in full bloom. I've learned some things with this cold that I would like to share with you:
1) No matter what they say, don't get drunk when you have a cold as a way to "forget about it." This didn't work out so well for me.
2) Drug yourself. There are lots of good drugs out there. Use them. They really do take the edge off the symptoms, and leave you in a kind of foggy stoner state.
3) Remember my sex-with-cold posting? You can disregard that.

Fighting a cold and survival kits

I'm fighting that cold that everyone has with all of my might. I am eating full cloves of garlic, taking Cold FX, taking Vitamin Cs by the handful, eating well, going to bed early. Not enough people are sneezing into their sleeves. Sleeves are the new hands, after all.

I read in this morning's Ottawa Citizen that everyone should have a survival kit in her home. I do not have one. I do have a bottle of single malt scotch, a can of beans, two cigarettes in the freezer, some matches and a couple of beeswax tea lights, all of which I think are the beginnings of a good survival kit.

Speaking of kits, the famous Megan Butcher just received a mojo kit from the "lovely" David Scrimshaw who apparently knows when young women are in need of a boost. Now, I think this young hottie has mojo to burn, so I'm rather baffled about why Mr.Scrimshaw would seem to think she needs help. She's young, she's witty, she's sexy, she's an erotic writer, she has tattoos of sea creatures on her body. This is not a woman who needs a mojo kit!

I, on the other hand, am in desperate need of a mojo kit. Apparently, Mr.Scrimshaw-- who some have called "Ottawa's most eligible bachelor"-- cannot see when a person needs a mojo kit, and when she is doing just fine without one. I have been struggling here: trying to be a Muse, trying to be intimate, trying to embrace Christmas, fighting a cold. Why does no one make me a mojo kit?

Sex with a cold

Remember that scene in the movie version of The Unbearable Lightness of Being when Julie Binoche jumps Daniel Day-Lewis' bones after she arrives with a terrible cold? I urge all of you with snotty noses to go out and rent this, and start shagging.

Sex with the flu is not recommended. If you have a fever, body aches or are vomiting, sex is not a good thing. Sex, however, is actually good for a cold. And - guess what? If you are shagging someone with a cold, you won't get the cold. You know why? Sex boosts your immune system. So there!

Being sick as a dog...

Speaking of Belinda, Peter, purebreds, etc... I'm sick as one. Not only am I sick, I have a nose injury from a toilet seat slamming down on my face. I am not a pretty sight these days, and even feared being found half-eaten by Alsatians (to quote Bridget Jones). I decided to go to the doctor today to prevent this from happening. Here are a couple of extracts from our conversation:

Doctor (who appears to be around 18-years old) : Could you be pregnant?
Me: No. Do you know how old I am?
Doctor: Oh, right.
Me: Right, indeed, sonny. Please tell me you don't see pregnant women coming in here looking like me.

Doctor: You have a virus. If it gets worse, just go to the Emergency room.
Me: But if it gets worse, I won't make there. I'll be eaten by Alsatians!

The doctor did recommend Gatorade, which I'm leaning on heavily. And Advil, as opposed to Tylenol, which was doing sweet f-all for me. These two things alone may keep me alive here.