Things Over Which I Have No Control

Rubbing Time. A new ritual invented by my cat Willa at 8:34 p.m., February 8, 2007. out of nowhere, she decided to shake off her nap, walk over to my desk, and circle my legs for 40 minutes, rubbing against me the entire time. No idea why. Totally new behavior that I've never seen before.

My brain. Woke up at 8 a.m. with a migraine that was so profound that even the blood vessels in my right nostril hurt. Took Advil gel caps, waited 30 minutes, woke up 3 hours later with no migraine. Little did I know that the migraine wasn't gone, it was just hiding. My right eye started tearing about ninety minutes ago, and like an idiot, I paid no attention until that first, savage poke behind the right eye told me it was time to Relpax up. Now I'm sitting here, wondering if the Relpax will kick in before the migraine comes all the way back.

Tom Colicchio. The guy behind Gramercy Tavern, Craft and my favorite sandwich shop of all time, wichcraft. He's supposed to open his first restaurant in L.A. sometime in the next three months, but every time there's a news item about it, the opening date is pushed back. Oh, Tom! Don't you know I'm marooned out here with no reliable source of sweetbreads? Can't you pick up the pace a little?

J. Crew. I lost a beloved olive green v-neck tee back in August and ever since, J. Crew steadfastly REFUSES to stock any olive green v-necks. What the eff, J. Crew? What's your beef with olive green? I know, you've got the dark pine green thing going on, but that color is L7, baby. Strictly for the Land's End shopper, know what I'm saying? Give me some olive green sugar, J. Crew! I am your neighbor!

My stomach. I know nine Advil in 7 hours with a Relpax chaser is not your idea of a good time, but you gotta hang in there, dude. Brain's sending you a lot of uncool vibes about needing to throw up and what not, but Brain's in a bad place right now. You can pull through this. No, don't pay attention to the Vagus Nerve. Vagus Nerve is a big liar. Ask anyone. We get through this, there's a steak frites waiting for you at the Father's Office. Mmm...aioli. Okay, bad idea. Shouldn't have mentioned food. Forget about the food. Just focus on not throwing up. That's right. Good work. You're doing great.