Thursday morning I woke up about 5:00 am to use the toilet. I was planning to go back to sleep for another hour before waking up for real. Whilst doing my business I had to cough. My back went into spasm so bad I thought I was scream and pee (so, yeah, go thing I was already on the toilet). It was just one little muscle below my left shoulder blade that went bad on me. I laid back down for a bit thinking it would pass. It didn't.

I called the doc pretty much as soon as they opened. I could hardly put my shoes on my back hurt so much. The real bitch of it was that I was just starting to get over a cold and was still coughing now and then. The doc's office said that I could get in to see the physician's assistant at 10:30. I was at work when I made the call and told them I may not be back after the doc's appointment, depending on what they gave me or did to me. Turns out, it's a good thing I took care of that because I was zonked out on muscle relaxers all afternoon.

That was three or four days ago and I'm just now starting to feel like I don't want to carve that muscle out with a pocket knife. Still hurts to cough, but at least it's tolerable. It gets a little better every morning. I even played 9 holes this morning. Sure, I was moving slow and I wasn't knocking them out of the park - but I made it through without collapsing into tiny ball of tears and urine. Honestly, that was pretty much my goal for the day.

I'd been thinking about something for a few days and sort of made a decision on it today. I was thinking back to a few years ago when I went to Comic-Con. This year's 'Con was this last weekend and it's been in the news. I think I want to go back. So I talked to a couple of guys at work about taking a road trip next year to Comic-Con. It's about a two day drive to San Diego but I bet it'll be a hell of a lot of fun. We'll head out on a Wednesday, drive two thousand miles, and spend two or three days just geeking out like hell. Of course, then you have to spend two or three days driving back as well.

The two guys I talked to about going didn't say no. I mean, they didn't say yes either. I said they have a year to think on it. They actually have less than that because we want to be sure we can buy tickets and reserve hotel rooms. Even if we can't get rooms right there I'm sure we can find a few within a reasonable distance (Note: I would consider a two hour drive to be reasonable for this ... so I've sort of redefined "reasonable"). It shouldn't cost too much the way we're doing it. We'll split the cost of gas and we'll find some cheap-but-not-scary hotels to stay in during the drive. I suppose we could drive in shifts and push straight on through but that would suck. You never really rest that well in a car and it is like a 30 hour drive.

I'm already looking forward to it. I don't know if the guys will want to go. Then again, if I can get enough people we could rent a party bus and do this thing right. Just pay some Joe to carry us on out there. Probably have to get a dozen people or better to make that feasible.

Anyway, I think I'm gonna work on that. There are two real tricks with this though. First, I have to get tickets to the 'Con. That's gonna be dicey. Second, I'd like to convince others to go along. It's no fun driving a couple thousand miles by yourself and it's cheaper if we split the gas. If I can swing both of those, it's on. A big-ass road trip to get my geek on sounds like something I need to do.

I forgot to end up the story of my Sister's visit on yesterday's post. Anyway, we played golf Sunday morning, got done, had lunch, and she left. But that's not the interesting part.

So Friday evening we're having dinner and catching up. Things are going along OK and I notice that the Mexican candy (that unbelievably awful stuff that made me consider licking a dead racoon's ass to get the taste out) is sitting on the table. After dinner, I mention to my Sister that I had found some authentic Mexican candy in Iowa and would she like to try a bit. She said sure, upended the little bottle, and took a mouthful of it. Half a second later I saw the terror flood in to her eyes as the taste sunk in. She started salivating so much that the foulness started to dribble out onto my kitchen floor. That was her body rejecting it. She raced over to the kitchen sink and spit it out as fast as she could. Then she grabbed a dish towel and just started scraping her tongue. Sue said I was mean for doing that and I said "Hell, you sat there and let me do it. You're an enabler!" Of course, I laughed the whole time. Then we all discussed how nasty that "candy" is.

I said my Sister should take some home to her guy and get him to try it. She said that would be awesome. I did tell her to not leave it sit in a hot car on the drive home because - man - if that bottle gets hot and that stuff gets out ... Damn, that just ain't a smell you're gonna get out of the upholstery. You won't be able to sell the car - you'll just have to burn it. When the cop shows up to ask why there's a car burning in your driveway, just give him a little bottle of the Mexican candy. That's all the defense you'll need. At best you might get a ticket for littering or something. Like a fifty dollar fine. Of course if it goes to trial then you'll need to have enough candy to share with the jury. It's five bucks for a ten-pack so I think that's doable. Then again, that might be a textbook definition of jury tampering - and possibly assault, attempted murder, and general dickishness.

My sister came up to visit this weekend and we had a great time. Saturday morning we just sat around and "visited". That afternoon we went to play golf. It had rained like hell the night before and the day was cloudy and gray. When we got to the course, they said we couldn't rent any carts because it was too wet. Well crap. So we asked for pull-carts. Turns out there was only one left because everyone else had the same conversation we did. I'm gonna skip the bulk of this story and go right to the end. The course was just too damned wet (Number Eight needed a freakin' lifeguard), I played like crap, and we went in after nine holes.

After dinner, we got a couple of calls from various family members. Turns out that a fairly important dam busted not too far from here. We weren't in any danger - the dam is about an hour away from us and on a river that doesn't connect to ours. However, I do know a guy that lives close by. And by that I mean he can now fish off his front porch. I texted him to see if everything was OK. He said it got damned close but they were OK. I read on the news today that part of his town was actually evacuated. I'm wondering if he'll be at work tomorrow. I did offer that if he and his family needed a place to crash for a bit that I have a couple of spare bedrooms and very reasonable rates.

While my Sis was visiting, she pulled up her Facebook account to show me something or other. Turns out that most of my, admittedly large, family is on there. The only one missing is my Grandma. Anyway, I started clicking on the friend links to see a lot of the people further out on the family tree that I haven't seen in years. I found out that the one cousin I really don't care for has decided to become a douchebag. I mean, I looked at the picture he had posted and my first thought was "Aw crap, now I'm related to a douchebag. Man, he looks a little gay and ... what's the douchebag on Jersey Shore? The Problem? No - The Situation. Yeah, like that douchebag. Maybe I should call Mom and ask if I'm adopted. And if now, maybe I can get her to lie to me." I can't honestly say I'm surprised he went the douchebag route though I will admit I'm surprised at just how whole-hog he went with it. He's got to be dropping a hundred bucks a week on hair product alone. The bronzer can't be cheap either. OK, maybe it's tanning salon - but those things ain't free either. I know he doesn't make real money either. I'm gonna have to ask around and see if he lives in a trailer. Not even a double-wide, I bet.

I made it back to work today. Hell, I even made it through a full day. Of course, I had a couple of people ask if I got "that thing" done (doesn't matter what the the thing was). I said "No, I didn't get the stuff I needed until late Monday and I was out sick yesterday." The next thing out of their mouth was "So, you ... didn't ..." Then I had to come back with "NO I DIDN'T GET THE F--KING THING DONE! ... But, yeah, I'm working on it. Don't expect it today."

Of course, now that I'm doing a little better, Sue is sick as hell. She woke up sounding like five miles of bad road. I offered that maybe she should consider taking a sick day. I knew she was doing badly when she actually agreed to that. Naturally, I was blamed for "making her sick". She did stay home and try to rest today. Usually she gets stupid as she gets sick. She'll be laying in bed, can't even stand to have the curtains open, and takes a half-hour for her to work up enough energy to make it to the bathroom. Then she'll say she has to get up and make dinner. I have to tell her no - I can make dinner and that she should stay in bed and rest. She'll argue with me a bit because she really doesn't like admitting she's sick. Which, of course, makes her sick that much longer. She's getting a lot better about actually being sick for a day and then getting over it. She'll rest, drink plenty of fluids, and take cold meds. Then she gets over it much sooner. But it took a long time before she came around to it.

I just can't seem to kick this sinus infection or cold or whatever the hell it is. I got up this morning and my first thought was "Yep, feelin' like hammered shit." So I stayed home. It was Sue's regularly scheduled day off but she had a 7:30 tee-time today. She wanted to try golfing by herself for once. I didn't do anything but sit around the house and try to not be sick (didn't work). I'm thinking I'll head back to work tomorrow. Usually these things blow over in a day or so but this one is really hanging in there. I think the new meds are messing with me. I'll have to have a chat with the Doc about this.

I'm taking the night off. I'm fighting some kind of sinus thing or something and I'm already all hopped up on Tylenol Nighttime Cold and Something or Other. Hell, I don't know. It was blue. Kind of minty. And I'm about to pass out. Possibly seeing through time here in a bit. It's hitting me pretty solid. Back tomorrow.

I kind of wish more interesting things would happen so that I had plenty of topics for posting. But then that would mean there's a much higher chance that I got screwed. Cause that always makes for a good story. Of course, then I have to deal with all that crap.

Sue and I played two full rounds of golf this weekend. I think I'm getting her really hooked on it. She's asking a lot of questions about how to play and what she needs to change up. And not just on the course either. Now, I'd like to say it was so that we had a nice hobby we could share as a couple. I mean, I'd like to say that. But it would be a lie. Yeah, see - when it's something that's just my hobby and I say something like "Hey, there's this $180 putter I want to buy because it's nice, I need a heavier putter, and it's marked down to $100 at the discount place" if she doesn't play then the response is "Wellllllll, maybe for your birthday" (which is in the fall and does me little good this summer). On the other hand, if she plays then the response is "Hey, that's a good deal. You think they have women's golf shoes on sale there?"

Actually when we were out on Saturday morning there was a slow group way ahead of us so we ended up waiting at the tee several times. The guys immediately ahead of us were waiting there as well a few times. We said hi and chatted briefly while while for the hole to open up. At one point, Sue stepped into the porta-potty and I said hi to the guys. I had mentioned earlier that it was only Sue's third or fourth time playing. One of the guys said she had a nice swing. I agreed. The guy asked if I taught her and I said yep. I felt pretty proud of that one. Of course, I sliced the next tee shot, lost the ball, took a stroke penalty, got pissed off, and ended up taking, like, a nine on a par four. In short, I felt just the tiniest little bit of pride and choked like hell. So, you know, about like you'd expect.

I'm seriously looking forward to tomorrow. The whole week has seemed longer and longer. I've got a pile of vacation time I have to spend before October. Well, OK, maybe "pile" is a little strong - it's fifty-one hours. A little over a week. Mind you, that's just the part I have to spend or I loose it. That doesn't include the amount I'm allowed to carry over the October boundary. Anyway, I've got a little better than I week that I have to spend. We don't have any plans to take any big trips between now and October, so I don't have an easy place to dump it. What I decided to do instead is just start taking off Friday afternoons - possibly all day Fridays, depending on how the work-load is on a given week.

Tomorrow I'm taking off before lunch then I'm going to play golf. I convinced a few other guys to take off and go golfing as well. The only rules for who can go this time is that you can't be any good at golf. Most of the people I know who play are pretty decent - so I couldn't ask them. One guy said I discriminating against his handicap. I said that's because his handicap is a two and, technically, I'm discriminating because he's not handicapped enough. I've been looking forward to going out all week. I think I'm so looking forward to it because I have no responsibilities when I'm out there. Hell, as long as I don't accidentally kill anyone, I've had a good day. Hmm, OK, that last sentence could apply to pretty much all my days.

I'm just hoping the course has dried out. It rained a good bit earlier in the week and was ungodly humid yesterday. So the ground didn't really have a chance to dry out too much until today. If it's too wet, they won't let you drive carts on the course and I just don't like to walk. I did it once and, well, that was pretty much enough of that. I'll take two steps out of the cart to hit then two steps back in. That's about all I want as far as walking. Then again, if my options are to walk 18 holes or go back to work, I believe I could get past my aversion to walking.

The other day I went to KFC for lunch. Right next door is a small Mexican grocery store with a little lunch counter in the back serving tacos, burritos, and so forth. I've known it's there for awhile and never went in but always meant to. I finally stopped in there.

I developed a taste for a few Mexican food while living in California. Not many of them, but a few. I figured the little store would have some of them. Sure enough, they had a couple of things I liked. They also had a number of other things that looked interesting, like dried mangos with chili powder or dried apricots with chili powder or prunes with chili powder. I ended up not getting any of those. Well, on that trip anyway.

I wandered over to the candy aisle (such as it was) to see what they had. Pretty much all the items there were in bulk. You can't buy just one - you have to buy eight. They had these little plastic bottles with what looked liked powdered candy. Think pixie sticks only in a small plastic bottle. There was watermelon, strawberry, and salt & lime. I passed on those. Then I found a pack that looked interesting. It was in the same size plastic bottles only this was liquid. I couldn't tell what the flavor was but it was red, so I figured strawberry or cherry was most likely. Could be something like raspberry or cranberry, I suppose. Since it was only five bucks, I decided to give it a try.

I went back to work and cracked open the ten-pack to see how this Mexican liquid candy was. I squirted a big dose in my mouth and OH MY GOD. It was the most foul, disgusting, nauseating thing I have ever tasted. Yes - I'm including throwing up in there. I immediately spit it out into my trash can. I actually thought to myself "I have to go lick a dead racoon's ass to get this nasty taste out of my mouth." I downed a pint of Sierra Mist, ate a bag of Reese's Pieces, had a smoke, and ate two peppermint candies. All one right after another. That mostly got me through the afternoon, though I was gagging a little bit still at dinner.

I was also trying not to giggle through dinner because I was going to try to get Sue to try it. I was just not going to mention the whole "lick dead racoon's ass" part. I played it real cool and got her to try it. She cussed me for about an hour over that one. Of course, I was laughing so hard I didn't hear hardly any of it. Then I told her I wanted her to try it because I just didn't know how to describe how unbelievably awful that stuff is. She said it tasted like rancid hot sauce and I suppose it does a bit.

Turns out the flavor is chamoy. According to Wikipedia that's basically a vinegar-based brine for vegetables. There's just no part of that that ends well.

Oh, I had to buy a ten-pack of that shit. So I'm trying to get some of the guys at work to try it. I'm calling them out on not being man enough to try it. I mean, I tell them the "lick a dead racoon's ass" story up front so they know what they're getting in to. So far I've only found one guy who would try it and he admitted it was truly foul.

On the other hand, I have the most kick-ass Halloween candy this year.