Under anesthetic, subdivided and synthetic

You're all my best friends. You all, and the girl with the cello, and the Esteemed Colleague from Elsewhere, you're all my guys, you know that, right? Cause know that. It's true. You're my team. If things get freaky again, I need you all on my side to dig me out. Don't let me die in an unholy place. And protect yourselves. You're the best. Take care of all of you all, even the ones you don't know; they're worth it, promise you.

I'm always there. Always gonna be there.

(Edit: I don't remember making this post. But it's still true.)

Mufferfupper. Fo apparenwy my gumf haf fwowwen a bit in the waft few dayf. Fo dey had to numb me up (firft wif a fwab and den wif WOTF OF NEEDLEF) and fwap de teef in, and dey're afkin' me, "Do dey feew okay?" and I'm aww wike, "No, you foow, becaufe haff my fafe if afweef!" Fo when it wearf off I'll frob'ly haf a cwooked fafe. I'm awweady tawkin' like Gweta Van Fufteren. Grr.

Oh, in unwewated (or if it?) newf, bwame Wore for dif:

Last night one of my oldest online acquaintances, kielle aka _redpanda_ passed away after only recently being diagnosed with cancer. She was 32. We've known she was gravely ill for only a few weeks, and only yesterday did her husband post that "my beloved wife's story is winding to a close." (More about her, from her, at Subreality.)

Most people will remember her most, I think, for her relentless involvement in online communities -- founding, modding, befriending along the way. Kielle's sense of community is hard to describe -- she had a magical way of fostering community in disparate and inherently different people united by their one common thread. She was unspeakably smart and funny and crafted what I still consider to be one of the five greatest things ever written in the English language, "X-MST3K," which is notable as being the first three of only four Google returns for the phrases "Do not lick" and "It's on fire." It has never failed to make me laugh, aloud, in even my darkest days. What greater gift can a friend give you?

I said this elsewhere but it's worth repeating here as I'm about out of words -- we go way back, back to our first days on these here Internets. I feel so bad for her family and her husband for bearing the weight of this unknowable loss -- but if you never got to know her, either in person or in her multitude of online forums, then it's for you that today I'll truly mourn. Good night, brave Libra firefox. You had not long enough.

It's more than apropos that she'd posted this in her userinfo quite some time ago, before her sudden swift sickness, and I thought it could bear repeating:

What's that you say? Hopeless? Why, very well!
But a man does not fight merely to win!
No, no, better to know one fights in vain!...
You there -- who are you? A hundred against one --
I know them now, my ancient enemies --
Falsehood! ...There! There! Prejudice! Compromise! Cowardice!
What's that? No! Surrender? No!
Never, never! ...Ah, you too, Vanity!
I know you would overthrow me in the end --
No! I fight on! I fight on! I fight on!

-- Cyrano de Bergerac

Nothing ruins a good Thursday like driving two hours. It's time -- overdue, actually -- for a checkup on the ol' ticker. So it's an EKG for me. I'm guessing that the entire appointment will consist mostly of, in order, waiting, getting and EKG, and talking to the doc. He will, more than likely, try to get me to stop taking my heart meds, which is a fantastically awful idea. Not because I like paying for meds, but because every time I forget to take them, my body reminds me with a stray heartbeat or two every minute or so. So I get that feeling of perpetual exhaustion, like I've just run a mile and a half, without any of the actual benefits of exercise. Add to that the heat (which, thankfully, we've just earned a respite from) and, well, I get grumpy. Like I'm not usually, I know.

Still, I'm guessing the whole appointment will take 15 minutes. Hardly worth waking up for. It's always so frustrating, because either whatever's plaguing me remains uncharacteristically perfectly quiet during the EKG, or the doc is nonplussed by my symptoms. Which I guess I can understand. I'm not nearly in as dire shape as any of his other patients, and it's not like I'm doing 255 bpm in a 55 zone anymore. It could be worse, I know, but it could also be better. At least they could give me some Percocet. Just on principle.

Busy day. I got Metaquoted. Finally something to put on my resume. (And I had an interview today, too.) I'm honored, really.

And I bought three packs of Chewy Runts. Mmmmh.

And Muffin's being a little warble-monkey. All in all, life could be worse.