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Middle aged

I got teased today for being middle aged before my time, or potentially before my time as the word “cougar” was used despite any evidence for it.

The reason I’m middle aged is the whole hypothyroidism thing. When I’d web-diagnosed myself in November the blood test showed I was only kinda sorta hypothyroid (TSH level of 5.9, where “normal” was somewhere under 5 or 5.5). My doctor even said we could forgo the synthroid drug since it was only slightly off, but I had been feeling somewhat shitty since the spring and wanted to try it out. I did end up with an abundance of energy for a while, my apartment got cleaned and I finally had a housewarming party and was more productive at work. Then that kind of waned but you can’t be on speed forever.

So I wasn’t completely surprised but still pissed off that my 6 week checkup had my TSH level now at a 9, which is the wrong way it’s supposed to go (TSH = thyroid stimulating hormone produced by the pituitary gland, higher values means it’s trying harder to get the thyroid to work, and taking synthroid should make TSH levels drop). The treatment is a higher dosage of synthroid, but my doctor now thinks I have Hashimoto’s Thyroiditis which is an autoimmune disease where your body is attacking the thyroid.

Everything I’ve read on the internet says that Hashimoto’s and hypothyroidism are most common in middle aged women. So there it is. Next stop, menopause!

I get another blood test in 6 weeks that should indicate the Hashimoto’s or not, though it doesn’t really matter, treatment is the same. But besides the sadness over the loss of my few remaining shreds of youth, I am also upset to have acquired an actual disease. I’ve had plenty of injuries and I’m far from sane, yet I had avoided “disease” up until now and I thought I still had some time to limp about in the pastures of moderately good health.

Having older parents (I mean, older than average) means that in recent years I’ve watched them get diseases like they’re buy 4, get the 5th one free. Diabetes, parkinsons, rheumatoid arthritis, several kinds of cancer, collect the whole set (note I’m including stepparents here). I have absolutely no desire to get past 60 as they make it look like retirement is just what you’re doing when you’re not at the doctor’s. And here I am, starting early.

And now in computer animation format

While this Taiwanese animation of the riots on Wednesday night is kind of hilarious, someone needs to tell them we’re not all blondes.

Coconuts go

It’s come to my attention that the only person reading my blog anymore is a stepcousin who says that my cat posts are boring.

But, um, there’s not a lot of interesting stuff going on right now. Life is all work work Canucks work work Canucks work work at the moment. Even if I wasn’t a fan and didn’t like hockey and didn’t reminisce about 1994 and being downtown during the riots, it would be hard not to care right now. You can’t block the sounds of crowds when your condo faces Granville and Davie. And when the Canucks score, the entire city screams. When they lose, it’s dead quiet.

Tonight, you could shred the gloom and sprinkle it on your pasta.

Other interesting things aren’t even real yet. Such as, I’m hoping to bribe someone into letting me go to Oracle Open World in October, and possibly embarrass myself in front of my peers like I did last year at mysqlconf. I figure, you do enough bad talks and eventually nobody will suggest you ever do them again. So far, it’s worked for me with supervisor positions, dinner parties and romantic relationships. But in the meantime you get to travel on the company’s dime, and I’ve never been to San Francisco.

October might also be a trip to Maui with my mom and stepdad. I guess they’ll keep me from getting into any trouble I’d remember fondly when I’m older and the syphilis has entered my brain. I was supposed to hit up Maui by myself in February 2010, but cancelled at the last minute at the request of my (now former) employer. So I think I need to go. I have a strange feeling that when lying in my deathbed my biggest regret will be that I hardly travelled. October will be 5 years since my last vacation trip, too.

See? Not very interesting. Good thing I say funny stuff on Facebook or Twitter or I’d never get any attention.

I don’t want anybody else/When I think about you I touch myself

Possibly the strangest song your dentist could be singing along to while he’s giving you fillings.

Also possibly the most disturbing if I didn’t think it was hilarious. Rather unfair I couldn’t laugh at the time, though.

Today’s randomness

One situation you don’t ever want to find yourself in is when you’re alone at a friend’s house, wearing nothing but a towel and answering the door to the police. You’d probably never imagine that scenario, but it happened this morning and I spent the rest of the day rather confused by the absurdity of it all.

Everything’s fine, it had to do with a neighbour’s house alarm going off. But now the Burnaby RCMP have my name and address (“how do you spell Pandosy?”) and possibly some notes about how I was found in a house that’s not my own and in a towel. It was pink. The police were wearing flak jackets. In Burnaby. Well, I suppose you gotta air those things out once in a while.

As you can surmise I was in Vancouver over the long weekend, and up until the end it seemed like it was just going to be fun but not strange in any way.

It seems I missed out while I was away, as a building up the creek from me asploded and dumped toxic stuff into said creek and now we’ve got our own little Gulf crisis where there are dead fishies in the creek (that I didn’t know actually had fish, which is just as well since it doesn’t now) and smart ducks that are staying out of the creek and hopefully smart humans who are staying out of Okanagan Lake but I wouldn’t count on it. Oh well, who needs nature when you have buildings going kablooey?

The Westjet flight attendant (male) called me “sweetheart” when I boarded the plane today. He needs to stop watching so much Mad Men.

That is all.

Friday Cat Blogging: potted kitteh



on the bed, originally uploaded by rahen z.

Rahen Z takes the best “street” cat photos I’ve ever seen, and this one made me all squishy inside.

iPod/UPS Hell

So a week ago I’d decided that I’d had enough with my existing iPod’s troubles and was going to buy one of those new fangled Nanos with the camera and FM radio and pedometer and other silly stuff I will probably never use. I’d actually decided this earlier than a week ago, but when I marched into the local Future Shop they didn’t have any in the size I wanted (16GB), and so I let it wait for a while. And then last Sunday after Mad Men I made the purchase at the online Apple store so I could get free engraving (not of my name, but a song quote) on the thing, because I’m all about the unnecessarily frills.

Stupid stupid stupid.

What I remember doing is clicking through the various “Buy now” and “Check out” buttons, and seeing that my billing and shipping address were still to my old apartment in Vancouver. So I changed the billing address to my new place in Kelowna, and I’m sure I chose the “same as billing address” for the shipping address, but it didn’t stick. The thing is being shipped to Vancouver. I didn’t notice this until too late, because the address information in the confirmation email requires you to scroll down, and I didn’t bother looking until two days later.

So I called up the 1-800 UPS number and asked what I could do about this package that was going to the wrong place. And what they told me to do was to keep looking at the Tracking Information page until it lists an arrival to Richmond, BC, at which point I’m to call them and tell them to either deliver the package to a different Vancouver address (they can’t reroute to Kelowna) or to keep it at their warehouse for someone to pick up.

I couldn’t give them the new address information then. I couldn’t call Richmond ahead of time. “Because we don’t have the package yet in our system, it’s still in China, even though we have this these things called ‘computers’ connected via an ‘internet’”. Instead, I have to watch a webpage until it boils says Richmond on it and then call, but yet I must do this before they deliver the package to the current occupants of my old place.

What is this, sneakernet? If I manage to intercept the package in time, will my father have to bring in a floppy disk of the GIF of my tracking slip? Or maybe I could send it ahead of time via carrier pigeon. This just strikes me as a really bad setup and unnecessarily complicated. And, for me, stressful, because I may have just paid over $200 for a free gift to whoever moved into #104 after me.

According to the webpage of slowly drying paint, my iPod is now in Richmond, but of course UPS is closed until Monday, both the Richmond location and their 1-800 number. So I have to remember to call right at 8 am on Monday morning and cross my fingers. I am not hopeful.