It's certainly been a very interesting few days.  On friday, if you hadn't heard, I was mugged.  So on Saturday, I went to this club, Spa, for a party thrown by Juno, an ISP.  I don't know what kind of operation they run, but i don't think it's too cool to invite a bunch of people to a swanky club and not have an open bar.  Anyway, I took Rodzilla, who had her doubts whether or not we'd get in, as did I.  This was the third little event I tried to get us into in the last ten days, and only the first that was successful.  But it all worked out OK, and ended up being a lot of fun.  only the first time I'd been to a club in New York. Well, one that wasn't a party thrown by my magazine.  Anyway, a fun night out with Rodzilla.

    So the next day, after ordering some chinese food, I spent the next few hours throwing up violently.  you now, last time I went to a club, I threw up the next day as well.  Anyway, I'm thinking it was the Chinese food. Some sort of food poisoning.  when I told Rodzilla later that day, she told me to make sure someone at the Chinese food, because we hadn't eaten very much of it.  That was pretty much the last thing I wanted to think about.  The first barfing session was particularly repulsive.  the last thing you want to see after throwing up is the left-over sushi you just ate floating in a ricey mess in the toilet. I doubt it was the sushi that did it, but if there's anytime raw fish is really undesirable to me, it's right after puking.  So I'm pretty sure it was the Chinese food.  What a fucking few weeks I've had.  My car was stolen, I lost my gloves, I had a knife held to my neck, and my own people turn on me and poison me.  Christ.  Speaking of Christ, Matt sent me a consolatory email today (the "speaking of Christ" was a reference to the email, not Matt).  I've been getting a lot of those.  Actually, Matt's wasn't really all that consolatory, more of an excuse to make himself laugh.  He's read about the thievery, and Jen told him about the violent sickness.  Given all my recent woes, Matt's reaction was "...Now on to more important things.  Your recent bad luck.  Jen informed me that in addition to getting your car stolen, being robbed at knifepoint and being denied entrance to numerous venues across nyc, you recently were struck with a fever, headache and severe diarreah.  My
immediate reaction to Jen was that you are being audited by Christ for
all of your misdeeds.  Repent."  For some reason, I think that might be accurate.  Although I'd like to believe that maybe I'm being tested or this is some sort of trial before a big payoff.  though I suspect it's all post-due sort of stuff.  Have I been that bad?  I didn't think so.  but who really does?  Oh yeah, matt also wrote, pertaining to my mugging: " You can expect numerous (and from your perspective completely unfunny) re-creations of the incident when I see you next involving me tackling you from behind and holding something to your throat. "  Nice.
    So I tried to sleep all afternoon and evening yesterday, but the vomitting sort of prevented that.  the second vomitting was right after drinking a lot of Sprite and a little Snapple lemon ice tea.  So when I threw up the second time, it was all liquid, and it tasted almost exactly like sprite.  Actually, my thought while I was actually vomitting was "Hmmm... this actually tastes more like Slice than Sprite.  It must be the extra lemon flavor from the ice-tea."  So really, beside the tear-inducing stream of vomit coming from my mouth and, disgustingly, my nose, it wasn't as unpleasant as it could have been.  None of the biley taste that's normally associated with puking.  Weird.  But man, I'd like to see video of me puking that second time. With no food to weigh it down, that liquid really shot out of there at quite a velocity.  Speaking of velocity, an important distinction- "velocity" requires a direction.  "Speed" does not.  And the direction was "out."

    So predictably, I slept fitfully last night.  Whenever I'm sick or feverish, I sleep deleriously.  it's always something mentally exhausting, and it usually involves math. For some reason, the number 11.7 is sticking out to me.  My dream had something to do with some sort of calculation I had to do, where the numbers didn't mean what they seemed.  You'd get this total number, then have to do several calculations to get the real answer.  the dream seemed linked with what was going on in the real world with my blankets.  I can never sleep right when my blankets don't line up, and lately they've been lining up very poorly.  The flat sheet and comforter have to fit evenly and symmetrically.  And when they're not, particularly when I'm sick, I wake up sweating and exhausted.  It's almost as bad as when I don't know what time it is.  My god, I can't even imagine the mental anguish i wold have suffered if i woke up with my blankets all messed up and not knowing what time it is.  But I woke up feeling a bit better.

    I had my last graduate school class today.  I had to skip it.  I had a paper due, which had to be turned in today, and it needed some finishing, which I'd planned to do yesterday.  But, like I said, vomitting and diarrhea prevented that.  A sort of fitting end to my grad school career.  There's a pot luck dinner on wednesday that I should really go to at one of my professor's apartments, but I can't think of what to take.  I really can't think of food right now either. I can't keep anything down.  I stepped on the scale this morning and according to that, I've lost 5 pounds since Saturday. Not really surprsing, I guess, since I've vomitted and and excreted out everything I've eaten since Saturday night.  I'm still a little light-headed and weak, and pretty dehydrated.  I want to set up my humidfier, but I'm sort of scared that the filter is too old or the water will be too dirty and that will justl launch all sorts of germs and bacterica into the air in my room.  I'm having issues right now.  I talked to Nicole today, who's in medical school, and her near-professional opinion is that it's a staph infection, some sort of  food poisoning, and probably some sort of electrolyte imbalance from my dehydration.  She suggested maybe going to the emergency room, but only if it lasts more than 48 hours.  nice to have doctor-types in the circle of friends.  Of course, we hadn't spoken in a while and she didn't really want to talk about work-related things.  She better get used to it.  Anyway, I felt bad, cause I wasn't in a talking mood.  More of a nauseus mood. Everything makes me want to throw up, and I don't want to do anything.  Just sleep until I'm normal again.  And it's late, so I should probably get going on that.
 

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