Curse you Iron Chef Hashimoto!

Goddamn my stupid thyroid. I was finally starting to feel chilled out and just slightly refocused here when bang, my thyroid crashes again. Now generally I don’t think of the whole thyroid thing as a big deal in terms of health problems. In the grand scheme of things, who frickin’ cares if you have to take a few pills every day for the rest of your life (that are mercifully cheap). God knows there are so many worse things in this life. But every so often IT JUST PISSES ME OFF!

I’d just lost the extra weight from the last go round in Brazil (I know, I know, I shouldn’t complain about the weight – but I’ve been tiny my whole life), had a fair bit of energy, and was feeling pretty good about things. Within the span of only three days, though, I’m back to sleeping 10+ hours, having zero energy, dragging my ass, feeling cloudy and sad, gained 5 pounds overnight, and the hives, oh the hives. So now I’m slicing and dicing my mom’s leftover thyroid meds to try increase my dose to get back to normal (heh). I’ll probably be back to normal just in time for the end of my vacation. Goddamit.

On the brighter side of things, though, I went to see Matt Dusk as part of the Jazz Festival the other night, and I have to say it was quite a groovy evening. And to any of you naysayers who think I’m just being trendy listening to these guys, I’ve been into the whole lounge scene for quite a while. How can you not enjoy love it? What’s nicer than lying on the floor with someone special, with some groovy mood lighting, tasty cocktails and listening to a great crooner?

But I had taken a bit of a break from attending shows after that nasty Jaymz Bee encounter (I shudder even recalling it now), he totally turned me off going to live shows. But with the arrival of Buble and Dusk (both of whom are clearly not 50 year old perverts with cocaine habits), I was really excited to go to this show. And Mr. Dusk did not disappoint. He has a wicked sense of humour that I was really not expecting, and the tunes are great. He really plays the crooner character well and has a self-effacing manner that just cracked me up.

And c’mon, what a cutie!! He’s surprisingly taller than he seems on stage as I discovered afterwards. And any guy who is willing to admit to a chick his similarities to a Muppet (and Fozzie bear specifically), is way cool in my books. So for L, who wanted a photo if I could get it – voila! And to boot I’m wearing the absolutely awesome dress I got with my Maggie Walt gift certificate. I've got to be the only person who goes to South America for three months and comes back paler than when she left...