rocket science

The other weekend we were at a Christmas play at an auditorium. We had some pretty crappy seats-- we'd gotten interested in going a little too late and most of the tickets were sold out. But, we thought it'd be nice to sit up on the balcony and all the way in the corner. We were on the front row of the upper balcony and the retaining wall in front of us was built a bit too high, so the seats were raised a good 4 inches from the normal height. 4 inches too high means your legs dangle, and your toes barely touch the floor. It's so painful to have the blood cut off on the weight of your legs at your knees, and you have constantly shift your weight so as to keep the blood going and the pain from setting in.

So the comfort far from us, and especially my poor pregnant wife, what else should happen but my nose start to run? It got worse and worse, and like an idiot I didn't bring any handkerchief or tissues to fix the problem. We had about 20 minutes before intermission, and the more I breathed the more I had to sniff it back up. The more I sniffed it back up, the more my nose run... I even had the bubble thing going at one point. It was getting bad. I had to do something. I didn't even care about my legs, I only wanted to relieve my breathing.

As the lights kept turning off so the audience could applaud, I could only focus on my respiratory problems. Then it hit me. It was dark, it was loud: no one could see or hear me. There was also not a single person to my immediate right- not even a seat. So I did it. I leaned over, crushed the cavity of one nostril, blew like the wind, and repeated for the other nostril. I felt the slag of my mucus bouncing off the nozzle of my nostril both sides, and it. was. SATISFYING. I blew so hard it didn't get on the outside of my nose, nor did it touch my arms, hand, or fingers.

I resumed clapping with everyone else and the lights came back on. Not even Mrs. Sixline realized what I had done. The entire ordeal lasted 3-4 seconds. But hey, when you have to blow your nose, and you have no hankeys, you have little options. Given my circumstances, it wasn't rocket science to blow snot rockets.


down for the count

Two weeks ago, Mrs. Sixline and I spent 45 minutes with my family at my house on the way back to ours. From that brief encounter, she picked up a bug that was blazing through everyone in my family. After short exposure time, one was subjected to convulsive stomach cramps, very unenjoyable bowel movements, and feverish body temperatures. Like the husband I try to be, I did the little things around the house but I think I complained too much. Hopefully not too much... Anyway. After about 2 days of this Mrs. Sixline expressed her disgust at how seldom I got sick - even when everyone in my family got it, I did not. I couldn't help but be proud of myself. I never get sick.

And then the fever kicked in. Wednesday of last week, before Thanksgiving, I had a fever of 102F. I felt extremely achey, inflammed, tired, irritable, and sore. My fever broke that night and I slept terribly. Thanksgiving Day I was quarantined at my parents' house while they visited my side of the family and Mrs. Sixline visited hers. It was just me, my little poodle, and AMC's reruns of The Godfathers I and II. I was still not up to my best, so I ended up sleeping through most of both movies. Thursday night I thought I was on my way out of it when a disgusting sinus infection took place of the fever and I have been hacking and coughing and generally miserable since. It's tough to sleep when you have a convulsive cough...

Anyway. I did manage to see Twilight with my wife and thought it better than reported. I even read it. It's a fun book about falling in love and thinking that you'd die if you were apart from the person you cared about. I find it to be fairly harmless in that respect. It is nice to use Bella and Edward to vicariously remember the way Mrs. Sixline and I first began to court. But hey -- I've been warned to keep the sappiness to a minimum.

So yeah... Crappy Thanksgiving.