albadger | Maybe I could pull this out at the gay bar and start conversations.

Today's adventure found me at the doctor's office. They got the labs back from Thursday, and the verdict is:

Blood Pressure: Great!

Blood Count: Great!

Blood Sugar: On the high end of Great, but still Great!

Cholesterol: Why aren't you dead yet?

I think this is partly hereditary, but those numbers are high -- so high that the doctor took out her pen and drew a diagram for me on the roll of paper covering the examining table -- and I have consented to take the anti-cholesterol meds that she prescribed. For now, at least; I'm hoping that a good weight loss regimen will bring those numbers back into whack, as it has before.

More to the point, I brought my KNITTING! with me to while away the lenghty delays (this office does accept Medi-Cal after all). I'm still very new at this, and when people ask what I'm making, I say, "experience," because until I can knit a Colorado that doesn't look like West Virginia, I'm not making anything else. But even at my tyro stage, it's very calming and centering. One of the nurses (not the lovely big bear nurse alas) saw me, and grabbed her friend so they could chat about it with me. I'm... this is a cult, isn't it? Not that I'd stop if it is, but I'd like to be forewarned if there's any rituals or sacrifices I'd be expected to make.

I know some of you will be watching the Democratic "debate" tonight -- these things aren't really debates, they're parallel interviews, and I'd love a real debate, with a topic, and people assigned at random to argue pro and con -- but I'll be at the opera watching a Scottish lassie flip out and murder her husband on their wedding night. Here's a stage credit I'd love in my résumé: "Charlie Martinez makes his San Francisco Opera stage debut as the stand-in for the murdered Arturo, found naked and bloody in the wedding bed.” And I have no idea where my binoculars are, dammit.