Am I nervous? Yes. Most likely I'll end up seeing multiple doctors before anything is actually done. I'm hoping they'll just prescribe me some medicine and I won't have to see a neurologist. For the most part, I'm not afraid of doctors, although there is always a "What, now?" mentality before I go in to see them, because, inevitably, there is something else wrong.
Cancer sucks. Don't get it.
Now on to the stuff that will make you jealous:
I leave Saturday afternoon for a few days in San Antonio. What will I do there
The last time I saw Metallica, I was in... 9th grade? 8th grade? Elder sister, do you remember what year it was? Because you were nice enough to accompany me to the concert :-) Regardless, I was probably too young to be at a Metallica concert.
I had never seen so much black leather in my life. Or so many women on the backs of motorcycles whose clothes didn't zip or snap, but laced, and just barely.
I get to go to see MEEETTTTALLLLICCCCCAAAAAAAAAA because one of my friend's brothers managed to finagle a bunch of tickets, and he invited her, knowing what a metal head she is \m/ and she invited me, knowing that at one point I intended to ditch my life as a suburban high school student to become a roadie for Metallica, along with Jeffrey Lebowski (aka The Dude, Your Dudeness, or Duderino, if you're not into the whole brevity thing).
Okay, I wouldn't really have dropped out of high school to become a roadie, but I debated not getting that job at Calico Corners after graduation in favor of the roadie life.
Really. I did.
Alas for Lars, James. Jason, and that other guy whose name I never can seem to remember, I couldn't resist the siren song of chenille upholstery fabric.
I wonder if the leather pants they'll undoubtedly be wearing Monday are the same ones they wore that day, back in the day?