This is Fun

Secret evil growing things.

Creeptastic

This thing starts out cute (ish) at first and then progresses into full-out creepy. Had to share.

I Love Sprint

I love Sprint. Sprint Sprint Sprint!

No, I'm not kidding.

As much as I love to vilify companies that screw with me, I LOVE to extol the virtues of the ones that ROCK.

I just bought the new Treo 700p phone, which I am soooooooooooo excited about. The thing is not cheap. But somehow, some way, some glorious "gods are smiling on me" way...I managed to charge to my card only $499. But then...and this is the BESTEST PART...I have a service credit of (da da da) $787.37. Which means Sprint paid ME $288.37 to get a phat new phone.

Seriously. You can't make this shit up.

I love SSSSPPPPPPPRRRRRIIIIIIINNNNNNNTTTTTTTT!!!!!!!!

Memorial Day Funny

Hospital Shit

Grandma's in the hospital again.

I realized today that I hadn't told anyone that. It's actually pretty serious. She has a bleeding ulcer and apparently is quite out of her mind. She keeps saying that she's ready to die and she just wants to let go. She's talking to people who aren't there and she's imagining the hell out of things.

Wish I could say that behavior was unusual.

Okay, that's exaggerating. It is unusual. But the woman has gone delirious before. Unfortunately, she's the worst kind of hypochondriac...sometimes she's right. You know "The Boy Who Cried Wolf"? It's like that, only it's been going on for almost eighty years. I've long since abandoned sympathy.

That, of course, makes me feel like a total shit. I wish I could care. I wish I could muster the concern and consideration that "should" be "normal" for a granddaughter to feel for her grandmother. I've just run out, I think.

But this is actually a real ailment this time, right? It isn't one of her imagined illnesses designed solely to garner attention and favor. Here's the thing, though: it didn't have to get to this. So many of her real physical dilemmas have been caused by her mind creating the manifestation in her body. In addition, if she's just seek medical attention at the first or even second sign of symptoms, so much of what has become deadly serious would have been nothing more than minor.

So I do care and I am thinking about her and all that. But I don't feel like I care as much as I'm supposed to. Whatever that means. Seems to be a theme though. Back when my uncle was dying, I believed I wasn't concerned enough over him too. I guess that shows more what my mother has drilled into me as the standards of love rather than what is natural for me. Yay guilt.

My Mom Is Right: I'll Never Get Married

I don't remember what it feels like to have a boyfriend.

I forget what it's like to have a partner...a mate. What's it like when you're not single? Is it reassuring and comforting? Is it like having a cushion behind you or a net under your feet? Or is it a burden? Is it frustrating to constantly have to think of another person? I don't remember if it's a pain to worry about two schedules instead of one.

I sometimes think I want that again. Sometimes I think I miss collusion and company. Whenever that happens, I try to imagine my energy being shared. I picture the phases: meeting you; getting to know you; sharing vulnerabilities, passions, dreams. It seems tiresome.

I've got far too much to focus on to remember the color of someone's eyes. How can I be expected to memorize a new cell phone number? There's no way to equitably divide my time.

And yet some late-night conversation might be nice. It could be lovely to have enough human touch. Enough human touch. That's what most of us are really hungry for, you know. There's just no substitute for that yet.

Would I be able to let it in if relationship suddenly came to my door? I don't know if I would even recognize the signals if someone were to unexpectedly send them my way. Do I have blinders on? Or just really dark sunglasses?

More Funny Things

I like Pearls Before Swine. What? Comics are good. Tasty, delicious and lo-cal.

Ain't Been Here In A While

Some of you (all two of you) may have noticed I haven't posted in, well, a REALLY LONG ASS TIME.

It's good. It's because I've been seriously busy and haven't had the time to introspect in a ridiculously self-indulgent way. As I had been.

But I want to post. But I don't feel like writing bunches and bunches. So I'm going to share some of my favorite "Pearls Before Swine" comic strips. What? You thought I was all smart and junk and would write cool shit? Pshh! Whatev's. Enjoy the strips.

There are sooo many more I've saved and lurve. I'm gonna' post more soon. Easier than thinking of things with my brain. My poor mushy brain.

Missing You

I miss my friend.

Davide Langs was a great love in my life. No, we were never "together" like that. He doesn't (didn't?) like the ladies. But he was a great love.

About two years ago (has it really been that long?) he had to go away for awhile. Read into that what you will...you're probably spot on. He returned, briefly, over a year and a half ago. Then he went away again. For a time, we managed to keep in frequent contact, despite international charges. I spoke to him one day and he said he was going to come back to New York in the next couple of weeks. That was the last I heard from him.

I discovered not too long after that call that he had been spirited away to a center in Switzerland. I figured he'd be there for a few months.

The months passed and kept passing. I managed to get some contact information and I sent him a letter. I don't even know if it got to him.

I don't know if he's still in Switzerland. I don't know if he's back in Italy. I don't know if he's here in New York. I don't know if he's dead or alive. I do know I can't seem to get him out of my head lately.

For a very long time I didn't think of him at all. Self-preservation I guess. But in the last few months, he has crept into my consciousness again in a disturbingly all-pervasive manner. I've dreamed about him and meditated about him and can't get him out of my mind. Everything I see reminds me of him. It's safe to say we were quite merged at one point. Last night I was at a play and I could have sworn he was sitting two rows in front of me. For most of the play, I didn't hear a word the actors spoke. After the curtain call, I slipped down to the man I thought was my friend and grabbed his arm. Of course it wasn't him. My adrenaline did not appreciate that moment of mistaken identity.

I miss him. I want to know where he is; if he's still on this planet. I've put phone calls in to everyone I know who might KNOW. They're not calling me back and I'm starting to think there may be a message in that.

My Brain is a Fuzzy Bunny

Yesterday and today...it has been very hard to focus. I have my fingers in a lot of pies, (please don't insert disgusting sexual jokes here. I insist I mean no metaphor.) and it's hard to keep track of it all. That boring old juggling image keeps coming to mind. Isn't there a better trite saying out there?

So, yeah. Fuzzy. Difficult to concentrate. Skipped yoga. Skipped Thought Exchange. Skipped responsibilities. Took a bath.

Perhaps day 2 sans caffeine might be partially to blame?