Ok, so my last flare-up of symptoms is gone and I officially have a tool of a doctor. What brought me back in to see him was that I was in so much pain that I was vomitting and then having seizures too, and all he could say was "Until something serious happens, there's nothing I can do for you."

Something serious?

Want me to break a femur or something? Have a heart attack?

Now, it's not all his fault. My neurologist is an even bigger tool. His report...

Just falling apart here.

I finally clued in last fall that there was something seriously wrong with me and all signs pointed to multiple sclerosis, which, thank god it isn't, but now I might have some degenerative disease that causes cancer on the central nervous system.

In a lot of pain. Sorry for not answering PMs.

I know, weird combination. But aren't we all a weird combination of things?

I was out riding my bike today, making a left turn through a busy intersection, when three teenage girls cat-called me from the sidewalk. I'm usually annoyed when I get cat calls, but this just left me slightly puzzled.

I got home and got off my bike. My men's bike. I roll down the one pant leg on my jeans and it covers my black converse high tops. I take off my black Oakleys & my biking gloves...

My hair is somewhat oppressed. It spends 99% of its time in a braid (or two). I wake up every morning, remove it from its nightly braid, brush it, and re-braid it. The only exception to this tradition is when I've washed it the night before, and let it dry overnight. If that's the case, I skip the de-braiding and start my morning with step 2 of 3.

I woke up this morning and realized; it's Sunday. I took out my hair, brushed it, put on a pot of coffee, and made banana pancakes for the...

I went away for the weekend to help a friend move into her new apartment in my favourite city. It was a great weekend, and pretty much stress free, with one exception. One of the men helping out decided to throw a psycho tantrum and stormed off before we got the van loaded, let alone unloaded up to the new apartment, which was on the third floor of an old house (think steep and narrow staircases with awkward corners).

My friend worried about getting her big furniture to her new place...