What do you play, the leather jacket?

Well it's true my favorite skater is still Evan Lysacek, but I've always enjoyed his "rival" Johnny Weir, too...and bonus points to Johnny here for the Lady Gaga track...



And I loved getting to see Moir and Virtue win last night--the scores weren't even close and neither were the performances, however good everyone else was.



Tonight starts the ladies' finals, so I'll be watching! I also need to sneak out to see Shutter Island, though, so we'll see how much studying I get done...

So on a completely different note, I was referred to a doctor for my neck which has given me trouble for the past two years. She did a lot of little tests on me, including one using a tiny needle to prick me everywhere...fun. And we went through that whole boring conversation about using a computer, posture, getting up every twenty minutes (HAHAHAHAHA) while at the computer, exercising, etc. and I wanted to be like, "Yeah, that shit ain't cutting it."

So she did ask me if I wanted to try a shot of something right in my shoulder. At my age, I've learned to say, "Yes!" when the good doctor asks you if you want the drugs. Honestly, I was still skeptical. And sure enough, for an hour or two my shoulder was just sort of weirdly numb and my upper neck is still awkward. And even better, it's sort of sore from the shot. Awesome.

But I get to start physical therapy next week, I'm just sort of hoping the insurance pays for most or all of it, ignorance is bliss. They also took X-rays which made me think of my torts class and the doctor who negligently forgot to ask if the woman might be pregnant. (It didn't matter because even if he had asked, she would have said no, not realizing she was.) Anyhoo, yay for them, they did ask me. (Although, great side note, the doctor who did the main exam on my neck was a little judgy both at not only my not wanting kids--"I bet your mother doesn't like that answer!"--but also at my not having my husband's last name. Listen, wench, you fix my neck and you can judge the shit out of me, deal?)

And now I'm going to move to study because Bourdain is having his bath and when he does that the air sort of hangs with the stench of feet caked in rotten tuna on a hot sunny day.

But he's awful cute.