After yesterday's tempest in a teapot, I've gone over Wikipedia's guidelines and cannot find anything prohibiting the sort of basic information I've been adding to or correcting in this entry. I've also been advised by a senior Wikipedia administrator that I have done nothing to violate policy. Thus, I don't think Rimbaud 2's "request" is valid, and unless Wikipedia decides to ban me to prevent me from doing so, I will continue editing my entry when and as I wish.
In other news, I can't get an appointment with my orthopedist until July 29. That's what being a loyal patient for 12 years does for you, I guess. No word yet on whether he will call in an emergency prescription without having seen me since February, but I'm betting not. I know some folks wonder how anyone can be "stupid" enough to buy drugs on the street. I'm not considering going back to that -- it compromised my privacy beyond belief; besides, I hardly see any of those people anymore, and good riddance -- but I'm remembering very vividly how and why I allowed myself to be that "stupid."
Most of my dreams lately center around leg pain (I'm never sure if I am actually feeling it in my sleep or just conjuring it up very vividly) and trying to make doctor's appointments. Last night, though, I had a detailed (and, I must admit, extremely hot) sex dream involving a dear male friend, someone I have no business dragging into such dreams. Yes, he is as handsome and charming as they come (so to speak), and we love each other, but that's not what our friendship is about. Besides, I am a happily married man. So fie on that! Away with it! Luckily (I suppose), he is thousands of miles away and not likely to be closer any time soon. (Oh, but that moment in the mall fountain, with the silk blanket ... all right, I'm shutting up now.)