Sunstroke The Ugly

I was walking home from work when I felt the sudden need to run to a computer and start writing. So instead of running to my apartment to spend some quality time with my best friends (books), I once again took the magical undersea tunnel to the fancy PC bang in the ship-building district. I'm not one of those bloggers who feels they must punish themselves by forcing their steely digits to task for one thousand words per day. I do, however, feel that when the words are welling up and threatening to explode inside of me, I must do my proverbial 'thang' and let the diction ejaculate forth.

Blame my parents for the filth-laden metaphor. It's their fault for reading to me at an early age instead of teaching me division (which, incidentally, I'm still not very good at).

I am recovering. It seems like I am constantly recovering these days. Luckily, I'm getting very good at recovering. This time, however, it's not just from a cold, it's from sunstroke. Not just normal sunstroke, but THE BASTARD STEPCHILD BITCH called SUNSTROKE THE UGLY, who CAUSES DOGS TO BARK WHEN SHE WALKS BY and MAKES BABIES CRY BY SMILING.

Yes, I went on my first island excursion last Saturday, to the island of Bijindo--a lovely little island on the South Pacific made of two smaller land masses and an artificial sand-bar which connects them both. When I woke up the sun was only softly humming through a gauze of cloud and I had a hat anyway, so I though fuck it, I won't need sunscreen. How very wrong I was. The hike was challenging and amazing. There were two separate peaks. It was my toughest hike to date, but there was also a train of old people doing the hike, so I had no excuse to wuss-out.

The effects of the sun stroke did not come down on me right away. And in the intern, I had to make two very important decisions: should I stay on the island? and Should I drink a shit-load of soju like everyone else? Very fucking fortunately for me, I made the right decision in both cases.

When I got back to my apartment at five PM, I felt extra-ordinarily tired. I thought I would have a nap. Begin TWENTY FOUR HOURS OF EXCRUCIATING TORMENT followed by TWENTY FOUR HOURS OF SLIGHTLY LESS EXCRUCIATING TORMENT.

I'm sure it would be nearly as tiring to read about the details as it would be to write them in great length, after all, Shakespeare said that brevity is the soul of wit, and since I assume most of you are only reading this for a cheap laugh (I know I would be) here is a list of unfortunate aspects of my sunstroke:*

- I could not move for the first ten hours.
-After ten hours it really hurt to move.
- I kept resisting vomiting, until I could move into the kitchen and get a pot to puke into. By that time, there was nothing in my stomach to puke up.
-After finally motivating myself to get the water bottle in my fridge (that I had been fantasizing about for the past hour) I discovered that it only had about an once of water in it.
- I noticed two days later that there was a bottle with water in it on my desk.
-At first, I thought I had the flu, so I cranked up the heat and put on lots of clothes. Turns out, this isn't the best thing for sunstroke.
-My pee was brown until today.
-I "peed" mostly from the wrong hole until today.
-Now that I feel better, I have discovered a cold-sore on my cheek (it's okay though, because I'm getting very good at recovery).

But I thank my lucky stars that I didn't stay on the island, where a dozen of my closest peers would hear me whining like a baby, and feel compelled to kick fake sand in my face--initially as recompense for my whining, and later as some sort of soju-induced (and perpetuated) drinking game.

Secondly, I'm thankful that I kept good on my promise to myself of staying off the sauce. Because what was THE BASTARD STEPCHILD BITCH called SUNSTROKE THE UGLY, who CAUSES DOGS TO BARK WHEN SHE WALKS BY and MAKES BABIES CRY BY SMILING. could have been THE BASTARD RED HEADED STEPCHILD BITCH called SUNSTROKE THE REVOLTING, who SMELLS LIKE DIAPERS AND ROTTEN CABBAGE, WHO CAUSES DOGS TO SPONTANEOUSLY ACQUIRE RABIES WHEN SHE WALKS BY and MAKES BABIES CLAW AT THEIR EYEBALLS BY SMILING.

I don't mean to sounds whiny. I really don't. Actually, I feel really good right now. My classes are going well, and relations are getting better with my boss.

If I were to complain about anything, it would be still not having any solid dudes/dudettes that I could call up and for beers...I mean coffee? on a Wednesday. But then, I don't have a phone.

Okay my lovelies, that's it for now. Remember to floss, and never EVER buy milk from a hobo.