Ouch.

Yeah, it's Lyme disease. Confirmed by blood tests.

Ohh, twas bad, but now it's better.

I wish I could write a cautionary tale on how to ward off your own Lyme experience, but like so many medical situations these days (HPV, HSV to name a couple), there's no certain cure, no definitive prevention, inaccurate tests, differing treatments and doctors ultimately just say, "ah well, by [insert date in relatively near future] we'll ALL have it."

Nice.

Thanks much.

I'll be the last one standing.

Somehow.

My best friend Kate and I have often "joked" that most of our talents, most of our exercising, hell, even the 10 year stint we spent smoking cigarettes, are all adding up to make us rock-solid survivors of the apocalyptic future we're pretty certain we'll live to see.

See, since college when we were avid athletes with a hardcore 20 a day Marlborough habit, we were certain we had some mutant lung capacity capable of enduring whatever toxic future this world has coming to us. And learning camping, that's about living in a world where our comfy apartments become ransacked rubble hills. Solar power, that's for being off grid when the grid blows up!

I know, I know. It's like my ex boyfriend stockpiling Poland Springs and guns in his Rockaway Beach-house bomb shelter.

But it's not really.

I digress.

So, Ryan's better, jacked up on antibiotics and on his way from PA to FINALLY live in Brooklyn (albeit for 3 weeks). Mom's on her way right now too, but from JFK.

All this is really intended to present yet another excuse regarding the patchy posting of late. I did indeed generate 80 posts prior to launching Utopianist, then last week I had a pre-sleep epiphany that I needed to restructure EVERYTHING. So, I'm back to the drawing board.

Regardless, I shan't disappoint.

But I will be occupied with Mom and moving for a bit.

Ciao.