I'm Technologically Advanced, Beyotches!

Look what I got!

Okay, so maybe this means I'm now only 5 steps behind the rest of the world, instead of 17, but it's pretty impressive to me that not only do I now have a webcam, but I installed it all by myself. Yup. I am a super-genius. I can follow installation steps as well as the next guy.

I'm hoping to test it out soon with someone who would maybe want to talk to me & see me at the same time? Someone? Anyone? Bueller? Is this thing on?

Here's a picture taken with the new Logitech QuickCam of the illusive Wilma in her natural habitat...

In other news, I'm injured. Again. It was a physical time at rehearsal last night & I got jumped on several times {it's part of the play. Honest!} resulting in a strained calf muscle & a rolled ankle. It wouldn't be so bad if only it wasn't wart day today. So now I'm gimping with both feet.

I've been fighting this f*&%ing plantar wart on my foot for, oh, YEARS! Seriously, years. I've tried all the OTC remedies, had it burned, had it cut out {that just made it mad & resulted in an infection which lasted for 1 month during which time all I could wear was a homemade knitted slipper}, had it frozen with liquid nitrogen, etc, etc. Nothing works. It is, literally, the wart from hell.

The best part ~ & by that, I mean the absolute worst part ~ was when 3 more of the lovely little things grew on the scar where it had been cut out. Right on the scar, boys & girls. That really made me happy. Happy enough to suggest to my doctor {whom I am still stalking, obviously, no matter how many time he tells me I'll have to find something better to do with my Wednesday mornings} to just stick the whole friggin' foot in a vat of liquid nitrogen. He wouldn't. Something about insurance concerns. Something about lawsuits & prosthetic limbs not being all they're cracked up to be. I don't know ~ I wasn't listening. After-effects of the glue high, I reckon.

So every other Wednesday, like clockwork, I'm back to the hospital {or "integrated health facility" or whatever stoopid name they're calling it these days} for another torture session. I think today, when I looked close, I saw a glimmer of glee in my doctor's eyes as he shot me with the damn nitrogen yet again.

Someone asked me today how many treatments I've had & I couldn't tell her. How do you count infinity?