Gah... where do I start about today?

Well, a good lot of it I spent doing nothing. Because I don't have any class till 6:30 (and I'm skipping it today anyway), and didn't wake up until fairly late.

But my radio group and I met at about 1:30. On the way there, I had a dizzy spell. I couldn't even stay standing up. I had to kneel on the sidewalk in front of Hamilton. After a few seconds of this, a really nice girl came along and asked me what was wrong, and I told her, and she insisted on helping me back to my dorm. I kept saying inane things like, "Really, this never happens to me." Which, why would you say that? If anything, you'd probably want to reasure the worried bystander that it DOES happen to you all the time, and you'll be fine. Don't feel bad, kind worried bystander.

But really what I was thinking about the whole time is, "Oh great. Another act to add to the circus of my health problems. Is this going to be an ongoing thing for me? In addition to the daily diahrea, sporadic throwing up, and frequent headaches, I'm going to start collapsing on sidewalks and having worried bystanders bus me back and forth to my dorm?" Hopefully, it won't be an ongoing thing.....

And weirdly, about 30 seconds after she got me back to my dorm, I felt fine. I totally went back to where I was going before the dizzyness happened. Though I did allow a little lead time so that the helpful bystander wouldn't see me walking around and think I was messing with her mind. And I've been fine ever since....

For the last couple hours between then and now my group and I worked on our radio project. It was.... interesting to say the least. But fun. It was just a little weird standing in the middle of the Radio office shouting, "DON'T HURT ME! NO, NOT THE FACE!" at the top of my lungs into a phone reciever. B-Dawg probably got more attention though. His line to shout into the phone was, "GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAALLLLLLLL," like from a spanish soccer game.

The most unpleasant voice I had to do, probably, was this wrong number lady who kept calling for a guy named Phil. Not so much unpleasant doing it, but hearing it again over and over during editting. Because I take my already nasal voice and nasal it up even more, and make it more high pitched. I swear, Phil-lady's going to haunt my nightmares. She's going to hunt me down, going, "Is Phil there? Is Phil there? Phil? But who's going to drive me to bingo?" And I'll sob, "make it stop! make it stop!" Or something like that.

Good times.