weekend report

I hurt myself on Sunday. Internally, not externally. I've done this before; I don't know why I don't learn from my mistakes. But, lord, it hurts.

We had Indian food for dinner Sunday, and staring down into the chana masala, at the mostly-raw onions floating in the acidic tomato sauce, all I was thinking was how good it was going to taste. And the fried cauliflower with so much red pepper you could hardly see the vegetable through it? Yum. Course it's always good going down. Once it gets there, that's another story.

Last time this happened, fish tacos were the culprit. Lime juice mixed with essentially raw salsa made from onion, bell pepper, and hot peppers... it did me in. My chest burned for two weeks, at first constantly, and then every time I ate or was hungry, and then just when I was hungry, because I had learned to eat only crackers and milk by then. Back then, my mother had recently had her gall bladder removed due to stones, so when I went to the doctor, they thought I was having the same problem. After an ultrasound came back with no negative results, though, they sent me home with Prilosec and an order to eat only bland food. Thanks, I thought. At least it went away.

I'm just waiting for it to do the same thing this time. In the meantime, I'm sleeping in a sitting position on the couch, eating antacid like it's candy, and hoping to god it's not an ulcer and just simple gastritis. So it's plain macaroni and a peanut butter sandwich for lunch, possibly followed by a butter cookie.

At least I had a fun weekend. Friday was the John Mayer concert. He was funny and energetic and cute as a button. He's such a good lyricist, and there aren't many guitar players like him around anymore either. One of the few times he talked during the show (he gets himself in trouble talking, so I guess he's laying off) he told a story about a time he tried to take his dad to a Mets game but ended up getting a migraine with an aura. It's rare for men to get migraines, and it's even rarer for people with migraines to have an aura, so I felt a bit of kinship with him. People who know pain like that understand each other in ways no one else could. We survived Memphis and only got lost once, so that was a plus as well.

Saturday I spent with my parents, eating lunch and then visiting a couple antique malls including the one where they have their book booth. Dad's already up to $600 this month. He says he's getting tired of lugging boxes of books around, but he keeps doing it. We went to dinner with them that night as well, and then my mother, of all people, said she wanted a drink. I have seen my mother drink three times in my life, that night included. It was just one Amaretto Sour, but it was just so odd to hear her say she wanted one.

Sunday, we did absolutely nothing. We had planned on finishing the setup for our vegetable garden, including moving another truckload of dirt all the way to the back of my yard to fill in the second raised bed.

Unfortunately, we woke up to a deck full of snow. The snow was gone by 10 a.m., but the temperature never got above 43, so we stayed inside. We rented the second Twilight movie. Terrible. Even when I was a moody, depressed, hormone-ridden teenager I had better tastes in movies (and men) than that. At least the first one had action. This was just.... s l o w.

Here comes the pain again. Time to start eating my bland lunch, see if I can't get my stomach to stop trying to digest itself.