Excuse me, rum and WHAT?

Ah, the idiocies of procrastination. I spent much of the holiday weekend hunched over the computer, frantically seeking whereat to lay my head during my three nights in Quebec City. The confluence of the high season, a religious festival, and, oh right, the town's 400th anniversary meant that the pickings were supermodel thin. I finally found two places that could offer me a (charmant) roof, but calling the one that required telephonic reservations struck me down with utter mental paralysis when the receptionist greeted me in French. Contrary to earlier assertions, I do speak enough pidgin francais to make myself understood, but every word of it vanished in fickle Gallic fashion when I heard the crisp sing-song, "Bonjour!" Anecdotal data suggests that the cure for linguistic fumbling is but a nip of dutch courage away, so if my brain doesn't pick up some slack I am going to be cirrhotic by the time I get home.

I finally managed to dig up a review of the ride I'll be taking between sessions in the QC, and holy peepers, the metric system dun betrayed me: 170 km works out to be real distance. My packing list has been hastily revised to include my knee braces, assorted bandages and unguents, a couple-five chemical heat packs, and the full analgesicopeia, all of which have saved my bacon on past trips. That same review led me to anecdotal tales of "caribou," sometimes described as "jus de caribou," which originally (and apocryphally, one suspects) consisted of cheap whiskey and reindeer blood but now is made from rum, maple syrup, and port. Picture it: I'm limping through the customs line, hauling a bag reeking of horse, smoked trout, and Tiger Balm, and malaproppin' en francais all over the place. This oughta be fun.

In ink-removing news, the laser burns are fading and no longer look like hickeys or spider bites. The tattoos themselves are clearer than they've been in years, except that they are now freckle-colored, presumably because the macrophages are jamming in to chew up the inky fragments. Thanks again to everyone who posted comments or sent messages (the lurkers! they support me in e-mail! and in the Annals of Internal Medicine!). May you all get to do something similarly happy-making in the near future.