AND A THREE...

So today is day three on the migraine train. My darling Frova is keeping the worst of it at bay, e.g. I can function enough to be vertical and look at the computer, but light is really bugging me. I feel like Marlon Brando in the Island of Dr. No - I just want to throw my arm over my eyes and moan "Nooooooo. The light. Noooooooo." I have been reading and writing all morning so that isn't helping. I've got a story I'd love to tell her, but the time required would render me nauseous. I can only stare at the computer screen for about 15 minutes and then I need to avert my eyes.

This morning was interesting:

I got up and worked out on the Stairmaster and while I did so I channel surfed to distract myself from the fact that I was exercising so I watched a bit of Driven: Ashton Kutcher and also the end of Malibu's Most Wanted, then I switched over to VH1's 40 Least Metal Moments. Clearly I find the most mindless TV available to distract myself. This is because I once got involved in something on the history channel and when I finished working I out I sat down and finished watching the show. You can't do that when you have to go to work.

So I am probably the least metal fan and I had no idea who most of the people were that they trotted out to comment on the least metal moments. They mostly looked like old men with long hair who are now pathetically resisting middle age and are willing to relive their glory days of AquaNet and eyeliner back in the latter six months of 1986. Whatever. They had Tawny Kitaen who's big moment was straddling a corvette in a rock video, and more recently was beating the shit out of her baseball playing husband during their contentious divorce.

These unknown to me folks are bagging on Alice Cooper for doing a CompUSA commercial in a cardigan - clearly doing a send up of himself. They're bagging on some dude that hosted the metal show that was on MTV who I also didn't recognize. They were unironically making fun of his hair! It was apparently too poofy and akin to hair on the band Uh-Huh to be metal. He clearly didn't take the boys in leather pants and hairsprayed hairdos as seriously as they took themselves. And as these people still do. I did learn that Gene Simmons was briefly Liza Minelli's manager - how weird is that? Can you even imagine the conversations? Do you think he did her? I think he might just to say he did. He's got a HUGE.....ego.

Thankfully my 30 minutes in hell ended and I turned off MTV before they got to Michael Bolton trying to be metal, but I couldn't help but think, as I have always thought, that people in metal bands and people who are fans of metal music are really the last people who should be passing judgment on anyone. For anything. The last thing they want is the glaring light of scrutiny blazing back on them. Cuz it ain't that good and it's certainly not attractive.

I got dressed and since I was at home I decided to pull another historical item of clothing from the closet. Amazingly it fit since my butt just seems to be getting bigger, but I haven't done laundry in a while and with my schedule it doesn't appear that I will have time to do so until Sunday. Even more amazing is that as I was getting into my car I heard the loud and obnoxious honking of a car horn. Since I hadn't even got my butt on the seat much less pulled into traffic I couldn't imagine why someone was already giving me shit. I looked up and glared as a man in a Mercedes Benz passed me by leering and hollering loudly out the window that I was looking fine this morning.

Dude - seriously. Grow up.

And that's how I know that even though the Frova is working I am suffering from the effects of three days of underlying pain. It makes me cranky. Because I am always up for a woohoo of appreciation from a random guy in traffic. A compliment is a compliment. Especially when you feel like your ass is HUGE.

This morning I was ready to kick some ass.