First: If you ride a motorcycle, please, please, please always wear a helmet. A friend of mine just lost her brother-in-law (whom I'd met and liked a lot) to a bike crash last weekend, and a couple summers ago, my sister-in-law lost a dear friend who was riding to Sturgis. It might be fun to ride without a helmet sometimes, but you never know when you'll hit a rock or a patch of oil, or when a car will come out of nowhere and collide with you. It is never fun to plan a young person's funeral or help someone cope with traumatic brain damage. Don't wear the helmet for yourself or for the law—wear it for the people who love you. They'll be heartbroken if you crash without a helmet.
Second: A lot of folks object strenuously when the subject of banning pit bulls is raised. If you're one of them, please read the Chicago Tribune series (free registration required) about a boy who was mauled by three neighborhood pit bulls he'd played with. The dogs in question were family pets, not fighting dogs, and yet they turned on their owner, innocent children, and the neighbors who came to their aid. The first part of the series is where the attack is detailed—it's gruesome, so don't read it if you're too squeamish. It's a tremendously moving and terrifying series of articles, and now that I've read it, I do support a ban on the breed.
Third: My feet hurt. Especially when I'm trying to sleep at night. (You'd think one V1codin would be enough, but no.) I know only one other person who's had sesamoiditis, and—what are the odds of this?—it's Mr. Tangerine. I feel terrible for having minimized his complaints in the past, because crikey! It really does hurt. And since he knows what it feels like, he's been incredibly helpful in fetching me ice packs, painkillers, and food and drink. He really is a sweetheart in so many ways. I do believe I'll keep him. (And no, he's not available on loan. Mine, mine! All mine!)
Fourth: Sesamoiditis is mucking up my birthday plans. Yes, today is my birthday, and one might say it's a milestone if one were not in a fair degree of denial. I may have just turned [that number], but dang it, I feel 80 instead! And that's not a good thing.