Heh. I kind of get flaily and discombobulated with coat sleeves, so I don't turn down help with my coat. But I don't expect it, not from Tim, not from anyone. (I admit, once in a while I'll say "Boy! My coat!" but that's when I'm feeling sassy. He's just as likely to answer, "What about it?" as he is to help me, so there you are.)

In other news, I just got back from PT. We did Trigger Point Needling. It was a very odd feeling and my shoulder is kinda stiff, which is normal for a day or two. I just hope it calms down before my belt test on Friday.

Huh. I just discovered another bruise. I knew about the one on my sternum (that was the ouchy one on Thursday), but this morning, I saw the one on my right boob that is now turning purple, and just now, I was scratching along my right side and thought "Ow!", lifted up my shirt, and saw a huge purple blotch midway down my torso on the side. They're all in a row, so it's obviously from the seatbelt last Thursday.

Do gay black guys call each other Nubian kings?

OK, now I kind of want to see some sort of horribly camp series where one guy insists on being called Nubian King and the others are like "Ooh, girl..."

Nubian queen

Gender and race fail! Also creepily imperialistic for a hat trick of NOT ON.

Does anyone else deal with the anxiety of trying to figure out how far behind someone has to be in order for the option of holding the door not applying? Because, I kind of hate it when people are holding the door for me and I feel obligate to rush/jog so they are not holding it for an interminable amount of time waiting for me.

New Orleans has a lot of gender based manner things. Ladies tend to order things first at nice restaurants, there's the gentlemen's hat check at places like Commander's Palace, and then there's the whole Ms. (first name) or Mr. (lastname) which kind of freaks me out because it seems different for black people and white people. The South is fascinating (for a New Englander) and EVER so fucked up with all this.

We now acknowledge our neighbors with a "good morning" or "good afternoon" when we are out walking, and wave to people in the neighborhood while driving by, even if we don't know them.

I need to make a rule against people calling me a Nubian queen,

what's the problem? heh.

Allyson, it occurs to me that women have always been imprisoned, wounded, and killed in wars. The sticking point seems to be giving them weapons and training them to fight back.

Allyson, it occurs to me that women have always been imprisoned, wounded, and killed in wars. The sticking point seems to be giving them weapons and training them to fight back.

RIGHT?!?!? Seriously.

Brilliant insight, Toddson.

but this morning, I saw the one on my right boob that is now turning purple, and just now, I was scratching along my right side and thought "Ow!", lifted up my shirt, and saw a huge purple blotch midway down my torso on the side. They're all in a row, so it's obviously from the seatbelt last Thursday.

Oh, I remember those well. Er, vaguely for the first few days. But well after that. If it helps, the silver lining is that your insurance company clearly will know you were wearing your seatbelt.

Sorry though. I also recall they hurt, as bruises that deep and extensive tend to do.