We Are Adorably Engaged, no?

Back from a fun-filled Engagement Party and Passover trip to the East Coast. Wonderful to see family and friends and former co-workers. Outstanding to be back at home, in my own bed. I think we overstayed by a day or two — one week is a good limit for sleeping at other people's homes.

You may have heard about this Pope fella visiting DC and New York. Not being Catholic, it made barely a blip in my attention sphere. However, my father said to me, "Are you going to be saving the Pope again?" And, in wholly separate cell phone conversation, my sister said to me, "You should dust off and update that Pope story you wrote."

In 1993 or so, I wrote a bunch of short stories. I believed them to be extraordinarily clever and meaningful, so I sent the whole shebang off to my family members and close friends. And a couple of publishing agents, who never responded, but they were obviously overwhelmed with unsolicited manuscripts and simply didn't see or read them. Obviously.

Anyway, one of those stories involved a bus-riding temporary secretary who accidentally saves the life of the Pope. It was during the previous Pope's visit to Denver that prompted me to use the Pontiff as a character in my story. The lead character in the story borrowed a lot of basic data from me but remains a fictional character. No amount of this type of explanation convinces my father that the character is anyone but me.

I guess that both remembered my stupid short story after 15 years should be a source of pride. Perhaps a re-write, update, or Part Deux of "The Pope and the Temp" is in order, I don't know. What I do know is that re-reading stuff I wrote 15 years ago fills me with a sharp and pungent sense of shame.

The only thing worse than that short story from 1993 is the contrived and cliche-clogged action movie screenplay from the same uselessly productive year. Argh.

The best part of being engaged is not necessarily the gifts (although they are welcome and drooled-over): it's actually the excuse of wedding planning that distracts you from everything else in your life and causes people to treat you sweetly and kindly everywhere we go.

Oh, and here's a buried lede for you: I'm teaching a class on web editing in May!

I plan to use the whole wedding thing to bail me out when they get bored or irate during my presentations.

Dem Bones

I am under the care of a chiropractor. Did you just scoff? Scoff away to your heart's content. I am aware of the controversy surrounding the medical profession, having seen the episode of the Simpsons dealing with the topic. Oh, and some anecdotal blahbeddy-blah about chiro foul-ups that paralyzed or killed people which sounded a lot like those lipstick-on-the-mirror-AIDS-message urban legends. WHAT-evs.

Regular readers of this blog know that I've complained about my back pain for the entire three years of this web diary thingy's existence. Physical therapy? 12 weeks worth. X-rays and consultation with an orthopedic specialist? Yes, and the co-pay was outrageous. Pain relievers and anti-inflammatory meds? Check. Yoga, Pilates, and gentle strength-training? Forever.

Yet the pain raged on. My long time physician and the three physical therapists all recommended I see a chiropractor. Like you, I scoffed. If they are so good, why aren't they recognized by the Academy of Medical Poobahs? Oh, they are? Ok then, why doesn't my insurance cover it. What do you mean it does? Hmm.

It's my second day of seeing Dr. Brad. It took him all of 30 seconds to find and correct the source of my pain. I'm not kidding, people. My back pain is GONE. I'll see him a handful more times and then as needed. That's it. No drugs, no stupid, useless exercises, no surgery. Just some twisting, cracking and popping, none of which hurts but all of which gives me a start and makes me chirp and coo unexpectedly.

Probably not for everyone. But what a chiropractor has done for me in 48 hours, versus 2+ years of traditional time-wasting, has my body loose and my mind ecstatic.

HOORAY for quackery! Long live non-traditional medicine! I'll have more of that Kool-Aid, thank you! Whee!

April Fool's Day

Gawker wants you to think Conde Nast bought Jezebel.com. They are probably apoplectic with glee at the ha-ha phony posts ("Must Haves for Spring!") that are wreaking havoc on for-some-reason clueless commenters.

I've heard of slow news days but this is ridiculous.

I don't know anyone, personally, who pulls AFD pranks because I've successfully weeded them out over the years. Chacun a son gout, bien sur, but I cannot tolerate that behavior. Want to "Punk" your friends? Are you a "Jackass"? Stay away from me, pal, I have absolutely no sense of humor about that stupid shit. I promise to go out of my way to ruin your prank. And maim you in the process. Oh,yeah, it's like that.

Have you seen this show, "The Real Wedding Crashers"? The bride and groom arrange to prank their wedding guests, hard. Have your relationships with your family, friends and fiance deteriorated to a dark, smelly place where you have to torture them to get a laugh?

I should grow a sense of humor? Really? I laugh at a lot of things. Things that are actually funny.

As far as I am concerned, it's April 1. Tomorrow there will be some hurt feelings to soothe for the "merry" pranksters of this world. P.S. You AREN'T FUCKING FUNNY.