I only like that title because I might have ringworm. Not that I should be admitting this either way, because it sounds like one of the grossest things that human skin can come in contact with, okay not grossest, but pretty gross, and I don’t know that it’s ringworm for sure. I have a doctor’s appointment today at 1:30 and then I will have an official diagnosis, but until then I can only say that I think I have ringworm…Actually, I can’t imagine what else it would be. But it’s on my beautiful knee, and at first, well, at first I thought it was a mosquito bite. Someone had recently told me that there were a lot of mosquitos in NY these days.

How does such a clean girl like me get ringworm? and how come it (ringworm) only hurts at night?

It may have been lying dormant in my body for the last few months, because at that time I had a friend with cats whose cats had ringworm. And now that I’m stressed - some of which I can’t talk about until after Monday - the ringworm has decided to rear it’s flat, circle like face. I’ve been putting a combo of clorox/water on the infected circle trying to kill it by bleaching it to death. That would be, in my opinion, a pretty unfun way to die. But I don’t know if it is indeed dying.

Speaking of unfun ways to die, I killed a bee at my parents house a couple of weeks back, in what I believe was a more unfun way to die. I drowned it in windex because it was flying around some glass, and I figured I might as well clean the window while I killed the bee. Of course it died a too slow, painful death, and I sort of felt guilty as I watched it gasp for air, so I tried to keep spraying it to put it out of it’s misery. A half a bottle of windex later and the damn thing finally stopped breathing.

I think the ringworm’s gonna have to dry up and scab off. That’s how I see it leaving my body. So, today, if you happen to read this, and then you happen to see me - call me your royal Fuq (pronounced like the curseword) cause I think it’s funny. Otherwise, don’t call me at all.

Let’s stop talking about ringworm, which isn’t even a worm at all, so why the name?…

Remember when Dear Abby, or was it Dear Ann, used to write those “personal notes” in their columns. The “confidential to” memos…
well, I want to copy them, cause coming up with my own ideas requires more brainpower than I care to emit right now.

Confidential to Andy: thanks for last night!

Confidential to everyone else: (It’s so not what you think)!