Falling apart
 
I think I've found out how long my warranty was for. Last week my back hurt for no reason whatsoever and now my collar bone has decided that I need to think about it more too. The good thing about having all these nurses around, while none of them can work a copy machine, they can all tell me that the reason my shoulder hurts when I inhale is that I've done something to my collar bone.

I haven't done anything to my collarbone! I have all my range of motion and it's not deformed in anyway, so I didn't break it somehow. It just sporadically hurts. A lot. Like at lunch, it really hurt. I didn't lift anything or pull anything or do anything lately that would leave a pissed off collarbone as a byproduct. Last night I did take a shower… who knew washing my hair could be so dangerous. No wonder Johnny Depp always looks like ass, he doesn't want to hurt himself washing his hair.

The only thing I did yesterday that differed from any other day was to go to a book signing. This one turned out much better then my last foray into literatureland, in that I got there with out first getting lost, didn't have to drive all over creation to find a parking place and I actually got to go into the store I drove there, I bought a book, I found a seat and I listened to the auther speak, and that was fun. Then I got up, stood in line got my book signed and left.

The place was full of people, most normal readers but a handful of hardcore fans and groupies. One man came decked out in a tee shirt he had covered with the names of her books - in felt, the front was plastered with some saying from her web site on it. Total fanboy. Ew. He had all ready seen her speak at a luncheon event earlier in the day and had her sign seven copies of her book, now he was back with even more books. He was embarrassing. I'm sure he was a nice person, but he as too old to be a fanboy. He thought he was hot shit because he knew the name of the guy who designed her site.

Oh, and I did not need to hear a 45 year old woman, like the one that sat next to me say at the top of her voice to her cell phone "Dude! " and "I was like! And he was like! And I was like No way! " for a half an hour before the program started. She just went on and on and on. I was like "You're 45 years old! Have some self respect, step away from the WB!"

As I was standing in line to get my book signed I realized I didn't have anything to say to the author, it was a little embarrassing once I got up there, I could have gone with - "I like your books a lot, but I try not to read them back to back to back because they can get a little formlamatic, but I still like them. Are you sure you don't write the V.I Washowhatver books too?" Prolly better I stuck with the nodding and smiling.

What else? I finally scored an elusive Dead Bird! It was a baby bird that fell out of a nest, but now if I find another I can say, "This is the second dead bird I've found. I don't know, could be SARS could be avian flu? Awfully contagious those… I see the birds at my bird feeder and all look a little peaked to me and there are the dead rats I keep finding…I don't know."

Dead birds are such a hot button issue, that maybe the city will finally stop putting me on terminal hold or forcing me into voice mail hell or just laying the phone down on the desk and waiting for me to hang up like they did last week.