It's one of those days.
My back is still killing me to the point where I'm walking around the house looking like some latter day Quasimodo in search of his Esmerelda or his shoes.
And it's raining too.
And it's humid, like a zoo.
And a song by Little Feat just finished.
And a song by the Pogues and Sinead O'Conner just started.
And it's two thirty and I haven't even combed my hair.
And there is a need for cranberry juice.
And I had a dream last night about being in college and trying to get it on with a girl named, I don't know, let's call her Sophie, and people kept busting into our room looking for a party, and I mean geez, don't these doors lock, and then Sophie got all out of the mood, and she wanted to watch quiz shows on the black and white tv with rabbit ears that was sitting in the corner of the room on top of the milk crates that were used for storage.
And yeah, it's one of those days.
Play us on out of here Bruce.
Rosalita jump a little lighter
Senorita come sit by my fire
I just want to be your love, ain't no lie
Rosalita you're my stone desire ...
Wednesday, May 31, 2006
Ah, the French
Blind?
Or just some hipster french girl hooked on Godard, Belmondo, Gainsbourg, Birkin and Gauloises.
Or just some hipster french girl hooked on Godard, Belmondo, Gainsbourg, Birkin and Gauloises.
Tuesday, May 30, 2006
Kill the brain, kill the ghoul
Ten reasons why I'm not posting today
1. It's too hot.
2. My back hurts.
3. Zombies ate the post I had already written.
4. Zombies and I then watched The Night of the Living Dead on DVD.
5. Zombies rooted for the zombies.
6. I explained to the zombies that the movie was an allegory for the social unrest of the 60s.
7. Zombies looked bored.
8. Zombies cried at the end.
9. Zombies and I went out to the Dairy Queen for ice cream.
10. Zombies ate the high school girl who is working part time at the Dairy Queen for the summer.
1. It's too hot.
2. My back hurts.
3. Zombies ate the post I had already written.
4. Zombies and I then watched The Night of the Living Dead on DVD.
5. Zombies rooted for the zombies.
6. I explained to the zombies that the movie was an allegory for the social unrest of the 60s.
7. Zombies looked bored.
8. Zombies cried at the end.
9. Zombies and I went out to the Dairy Queen for ice cream.
10. Zombies ate the high school girl who is working part time at the Dairy Queen for the summer.
Sunday, May 28, 2006
Iargo Springs
Today I went for a walk around Iargo Springs, which is part of the Huron National Forest on the Au Sable River, about 15 miles from where I live.
You can see the rest of the pics here.
You can see the rest of the pics here.
Saturday, May 27, 2006
If Roy Scheider and William Devane had a boxing match, who would win?
Ok, I can't sleep.
I watched the last twenty minutes of Jaws II on the SciFi channel and kept slapping myself on the forehead trying to remember that Roy Scheider's name was Roy Scheider, and then I was going to watch the next movie on the SciFi channel, but it was another shark movie, and that's when I went to bed.
I tried to sleep, but nothing happened, so here I am again.
I was going to write the second part of my trip to MRI Land, but there wasn't really anything to it, except for the second part of the MRI I had to get two injections of some kind of watery stuff that had some kind of metallic stuff in it so it could highlight the MRI, or something like that.
Oh yeah, I had ear plugs in and after he gave me the second injection it sounded like he said there were only four or five more injections to go and that would be all, and that sort of freaked me out, because it's not that I hate needles, it's just that he was running out of places to stick me, but I guess I misunderstood him, because the second injection was the last injection, and the four or five other ones never happened, unless I passed out, and then he gave them to me.
I'll find out the results of the MRI on my next appointment with the neuro surgeon on June 17th, and just between you and me, I think he is going to recommend surgery, which is seriously ok with me, because I was ready for surgery three years ago when this whole problem started.
I watched the last twenty minutes of Jaws II on the SciFi channel and kept slapping myself on the forehead trying to remember that Roy Scheider's name was Roy Scheider, and then I was going to watch the next movie on the SciFi channel, but it was another shark movie, and that's when I went to bed.
I tried to sleep, but nothing happened, so here I am again.
I was going to write the second part of my trip to MRI Land, but there wasn't really anything to it, except for the second part of the MRI I had to get two injections of some kind of watery stuff that had some kind of metallic stuff in it so it could highlight the MRI, or something like that.
Oh yeah, I had ear plugs in and after he gave me the second injection it sounded like he said there were only four or five more injections to go and that would be all, and that sort of freaked me out, because it's not that I hate needles, it's just that he was running out of places to stick me, but I guess I misunderstood him, because the second injection was the last injection, and the four or five other ones never happened, unless I passed out, and then he gave them to me.
I'll find out the results of the MRI on my next appointment with the neuro surgeon on June 17th, and just between you and me, I think he is going to recommend surgery, which is seriously ok with me, because I was ready for surgery three years ago when this whole problem started.
Friday, May 26, 2006
A Friday morning in MRI land
Got up at five thirty.
Took my time getting ready.
Left at six twenty five.
Got to the hospital at six thirty five.
Registered.
Went down to x-ray.
Signed in, sat down, and waited.
There were only two of us in the waiting room, another guy and me.
Short bald guy wearing a lab coat carrying a clipboard walks in walks up to the other guy and says ...
Mr (((Inaudible)))?
The guy says yeah.
The short bald guy wearing the lab coat and carrying a clipboard goes
It's time for your M(((inaudible)))I(((eye))).
The guy gets up and they head off to MRI land.
I thought to myself that I was the first scheduled M(((inaudible)))I(((eye))) for the day.
No biggie.
Forty five seconds another slightly taller non bald guy wearing a lab coat and carrying a clip board walks in, looks at me, and says ...
Mr. Sandler?
Then it hits me.
The guy who is getting my MRI is Mr. Sandler and I am Mr (((Inaudible)))
I tell the slightly taller non bald guy wearing a lab coat that I think that Mr Sandler has been mistakenly taken down to MRI land.
Slightly taller guy rushes out, I assume to rectify the error.
I hear a conversation down the hall from the vicinity of MRI land.
A minute later the short bald guy in the lab coat and carrying a clip board re-enters the waiting room looking and sounding all embarrassed and says ...
Boz???
I say yeah.
I get up and we make small talk about the mix-up as we walk down to MRI land.
To be continued ...
Took my time getting ready.
Left at six twenty five.
Got to the hospital at six thirty five.
Registered.
Went down to x-ray.
Signed in, sat down, and waited.
There were only two of us in the waiting room, another guy and me.
Short bald guy wearing a lab coat carrying a clipboard walks in walks up to the other guy and says ...
Mr (((Inaudible)))?
The guy says yeah.
The short bald guy wearing the lab coat and carrying a clipboard goes
It's time for your M(((inaudible)))I(((eye))).
The guy gets up and they head off to MRI land.
I thought to myself that I was the first scheduled M(((inaudible)))I(((eye))) for the day.
No biggie.
Forty five seconds another slightly taller non bald guy wearing a lab coat and carrying a clip board walks in, looks at me, and says ...
Mr. Sandler?
Then it hits me.
The guy who is getting my MRI is Mr. Sandler and I am Mr (((Inaudible)))
I tell the slightly taller non bald guy wearing a lab coat that I think that Mr Sandler has been mistakenly taken down to MRI land.
Slightly taller guy rushes out, I assume to rectify the error.
I hear a conversation down the hall from the vicinity of MRI land.
A minute later the short bald guy in the lab coat and carrying a clip board re-enters the waiting room looking and sounding all embarrassed and says ...
Boz???
I say yeah.
I get up and we make small talk about the mix-up as we walk down to MRI land.
To be continued ...
Magnetic Resonance I-owwwwwwwwwwwwwwww
I think I'm in a leg phase.
MRI in the morning.
MRI at seven in the morning.
MRI at seven in the morning that was supposed to be in the afternoon.
So I guess I'll go to bed and toss and turn, and get the sweats, and wake up after about an hour and a half of sleep, and have heart burn, and a sinus headache, and a chill, oh yeah, I can't forget the chill, and I'll stumble into the bathroom and stub my toe, and the tooth brush will slip and gouge the inside of my mouth, and I'll probably swallow the wrong way and start coughing, and then I'll get sick to my stomach, but yeah, I'm cool with an MRI at seven in the morning.
MRI in the morning.
MRI at seven in the morning.
MRI at seven in the morning that was supposed to be in the afternoon.
So I guess I'll go to bed and toss and turn, and get the sweats, and wake up after about an hour and a half of sleep, and have heart burn, and a sinus headache, and a chill, oh yeah, I can't forget the chill, and I'll stumble into the bathroom and stub my toe, and the tooth brush will slip and gouge the inside of my mouth, and I'll probably swallow the wrong way and start coughing, and then I'll get sick to my stomach, but yeah, I'm cool with an MRI at seven in the morning.
Thursday, May 25, 2006
Garota de Ipanema
Not the Girl From Ipanema, but only because she doesn't want to be.
Five minutes ...
Ten minutes ...
Twenty minutes ...
I guess that's it.
Five minutes ...
Ten minutes ...
Twenty minutes ...
I guess that's it.
Wednesday, May 24, 2006
The fishnet phenomena of the mid 60s
Woman in fishnets with hooker purse.
Do you find it odd that when I was in High School forty years ago that teenage girls wore fishnet stockings? I mean 15, and 16, and 17 year old girls wore fishnet stockings. Ok, so they didn't carry hooker purses or wear hooker dresses, and really, these were just your normal average teenage girls, not the ones who allegedly had to have their stomachs pumped after every home basketball game, but hey, it was the 60s and the 60s were fab, and hip, and groovy, and gear, and I don't know what the fuck I'm talking about anymore, but I do know that teenage girls wore fishnet stockings, and they also wore brightly colored and patterned stockings, and while I'm on the subject of stockings and the girls that wore them when I was a teenager, when I was in 7th grade girls wore black stockings, and I remember when my newly married sister came to visit from New Jersey she was aghast that 12 and 13 year old girls were wearing black stockings, which I find kind of ironic, or that word that means something like ironic, because when my sister's daughter was 12 and 13, I bet my sister wished the only problem she had was her daughter wearing black stockings.
Do you find it odd that when I was in High School forty years ago that teenage girls wore fishnet stockings? I mean 15, and 16, and 17 year old girls wore fishnet stockings. Ok, so they didn't carry hooker purses or wear hooker dresses, and really, these were just your normal average teenage girls, not the ones who allegedly had to have their stomachs pumped after every home basketball game, but hey, it was the 60s and the 60s were fab, and hip, and groovy, and gear, and I don't know what the fuck I'm talking about anymore, but I do know that teenage girls wore fishnet stockings, and they also wore brightly colored and patterned stockings, and while I'm on the subject of stockings and the girls that wore them when I was a teenager, when I was in 7th grade girls wore black stockings, and I remember when my newly married sister came to visit from New Jersey she was aghast that 12 and 13 year old girls were wearing black stockings, which I find kind of ironic, or that word that means something like ironic, because when my sister's daughter was 12 and 13, I bet my sister wished the only problem she had was her daughter wearing black stockings.
Boz, the squirrel humanitarian
I am not a squirrel killer.
Here is what happened.
There was a squirrel, see, that must have fallen out of a tree in my front yard, and I'm surprised that doesn't happen more often they way they jump around from branch to branch like some kind of cult of suicidal banzai maniacs.
Well, this squirrel was laying out in my front yard, and he wasn't moving too well, just sort of going around in circles, so I went out to see what the matter was and the squirrel was laying on it's stomach with it's hind legs obviously broken, or at least severely sprained and it was trying to pull itself to safety just using it's teeny tiny little front legs, and it really looked kind of funny sort of like the WWII homeless veterans who have lost their legs and hang around the downtown area on their little wheeled sleds and who have to pull themselves along using their hands, arghhhhhhhh, I'm not doing a very good job describing this, wait ... like the Eddie Murphy character at the start of the movie Trading Places, yeah, that's what the poor little broken bodied squirrel looked like, and when I said it looked kind of funny like a WWII homeless veteran, well, that was a misprint, I really don't think homeless people, be they veteran or non-veteran are in the least bit funny, unless of course they are wearing clown make-up, which would actually make them more scary than funny.
So anyway, there's this broken bodied little squirrel laying in my front yard, and it's obvious to me that no little squirrel ambulance full of little squirrel paramedics is going to come to his aid anytime soon. So, what could I do?
I'm a non-violent kind of guy, just putting it out of it's misery was out of the question, and how would I have done it anyway, a gun, ha, a rock to the head, ha, a lethal injection, ha ...
No, there was no way that I could kill it, so I did the next best thing, actually, I did the best thing, the humanitarian thing. I went to the shed and got a shovel, and sort of scooped it up, which wasn't all that easy to do because I don't think squirrels like to be scooped, so I scooped it up in the shovel and carried it over to a little wooded area across the street from my house, and I gently placed the squirrel down in the relative safety of the woods where I hoped he could die with a little peace and dignity.
So, does that make me a squirrel killer???
Here is what happened.
There was a squirrel, see, that must have fallen out of a tree in my front yard, and I'm surprised that doesn't happen more often they way they jump around from branch to branch like some kind of cult of suicidal banzai maniacs.
Well, this squirrel was laying out in my front yard, and he wasn't moving too well, just sort of going around in circles, so I went out to see what the matter was and the squirrel was laying on it's stomach with it's hind legs obviously broken, or at least severely sprained and it was trying to pull itself to safety just using it's teeny tiny little front legs, and it really looked kind of funny sort of like the WWII homeless veterans who have lost their legs and hang around the downtown area on their little wheeled sleds and who have to pull themselves along using their hands, arghhhhhhhh, I'm not doing a very good job describing this, wait ... like the Eddie Murphy character at the start of the movie Trading Places, yeah, that's what the poor little broken bodied squirrel looked like, and when I said it looked kind of funny like a WWII homeless veteran, well, that was a misprint, I really don't think homeless people, be they veteran or non-veteran are in the least bit funny, unless of course they are wearing clown make-up, which would actually make them more scary than funny.
So anyway, there's this broken bodied little squirrel laying in my front yard, and it's obvious to me that no little squirrel ambulance full of little squirrel paramedics is going to come to his aid anytime soon. So, what could I do?
I'm a non-violent kind of guy, just putting it out of it's misery was out of the question, and how would I have done it anyway, a gun, ha, a rock to the head, ha, a lethal injection, ha ...
No, there was no way that I could kill it, so I did the next best thing, actually, I did the best thing, the humanitarian thing. I went to the shed and got a shovel, and sort of scooped it up, which wasn't all that easy to do because I don't think squirrels like to be scooped, so I scooped it up in the shovel and carried it over to a little wooded area across the street from my house, and I gently placed the squirrel down in the relative safety of the woods where I hoped he could die with a little peace and dignity.
So, does that make me a squirrel killer???
Tuesday, May 23, 2006
Libe Node Grils
A serious set of legs.
I don't know what it is but it feels like I've gotten about seventeen flu shots in my left butt cheek, I don't mean in my life, I mean all at once, about five minutes ago.
I don't know what it is but it feels like I've gotten about seventeen flu shots in my left butt cheek, I don't mean in my life, I mean all at once, about five minutes ago.
Tuesday is just like Monday only shorter
Drove up to Oscoda earlier today.
Had to go to Kmart to get MB some store brand Depends, and you get a 10% discount on Tuesday if you're over 50.
Why does everyone in front of me drive so slow?
And why doesn't the head of the driver of everyone in front of me go up higher than the head rest? I think what I am trying to say is why is everyone who drives in front of me so short, but I was trying to write it in a cool and pleasing manner.
And why doesn't my keyboard anticipate what I am going to type, and just go ahead and type it correctly. I think the spellcheck lobby has something to do with it.
So anyway, I stopped at Kmart and got the store brand Depends, and some Right Guard for me, and while waiting in line I saw that they had past due candy bars on sale for 25 cents a piece, so I got MB a Smore and a Rolo for myself, and I've already finished my Rolo, and it didn't really taste past due, well, maybe only a little, but still it only cost a quarter.
I stopped at the Speedway Mini-Mart intending to get gas, but all the pumps were taken, and that is saying a lot because they have about sixteen pumps, but it was lunch time, and I guess people like to get gas at lunch time, but I went inside anyway because they had two liter Coke on sale buy 3 and get one free, which made it come out to 75 cents a bottle, so I bought six and got 2 free, you know sorting of stocking up for the Memorial Day holiday, and everyone was buying make it yourself hot dogs, and they smelled so good, even with onions on them, but I didn't get any, I just got a 44 ounce fountain drink for 79 cents instead, but the dogs sure did smell good.
Stopped at the gas station that used to be Clark but is now Admiral and got gas. Now that gas is so high I try to trick myself into not getting upset by stopping at 20 dollars and trying to make myself believe that it's a full tank, and guess what, today it was, and further guess what, I saved a penny a gallon by getting my gas at the station that used to be a Clark but is now Admiral, so take that Speedway Mini-Mart.
Made one more stop up in Oscoda at the local Drug Store. They've got a dollar only section in there and I thought I'd try it out, and yeah, they had coffee for a buck a can, and since I don't drink coffee I really don't care what it tastes like so I bought a couple of cans for MB, I mean, her taste buds are pretty much shot anyway.
I guess that's it except for on the drive home I got stuck behind some old guy and his equally old wife doing 30 in a 55 mph zone, and as I passed them they were arguing back and forth, and I bet his wife was yelling at him for going too damn fast.
And now I'm home, and did you notice I put a link list in?
Had to go to Kmart to get MB some store brand Depends, and you get a 10% discount on Tuesday if you're over 50.
Why does everyone in front of me drive so slow?
And why doesn't the head of the driver of everyone in front of me go up higher than the head rest? I think what I am trying to say is why is everyone who drives in front of me so short, but I was trying to write it in a cool and pleasing manner.
And why doesn't my keyboard anticipate what I am going to type, and just go ahead and type it correctly. I think the spellcheck lobby has something to do with it.
So anyway, I stopped at Kmart and got the store brand Depends, and some Right Guard for me, and while waiting in line I saw that they had past due candy bars on sale for 25 cents a piece, so I got MB a Smore and a Rolo for myself, and I've already finished my Rolo, and it didn't really taste past due, well, maybe only a little, but still it only cost a quarter.
I stopped at the Speedway Mini-Mart intending to get gas, but all the pumps were taken, and that is saying a lot because they have about sixteen pumps, but it was lunch time, and I guess people like to get gas at lunch time, but I went inside anyway because they had two liter Coke on sale buy 3 and get one free, which made it come out to 75 cents a bottle, so I bought six and got 2 free, you know sorting of stocking up for the Memorial Day holiday, and everyone was buying make it yourself hot dogs, and they smelled so good, even with onions on them, but I didn't get any, I just got a 44 ounce fountain drink for 79 cents instead, but the dogs sure did smell good.
Stopped at the gas station that used to be Clark but is now Admiral and got gas. Now that gas is so high I try to trick myself into not getting upset by stopping at 20 dollars and trying to make myself believe that it's a full tank, and guess what, today it was, and further guess what, I saved a penny a gallon by getting my gas at the station that used to be a Clark but is now Admiral, so take that Speedway Mini-Mart.
Made one more stop up in Oscoda at the local Drug Store. They've got a dollar only section in there and I thought I'd try it out, and yeah, they had coffee for a buck a can, and since I don't drink coffee I really don't care what it tastes like so I bought a couple of cans for MB, I mean, her taste buds are pretty much shot anyway.
I guess that's it except for on the drive home I got stuck behind some old guy and his equally old wife doing 30 in a 55 mph zone, and as I passed them they were arguing back and forth, and I bet his wife was yelling at him for going too damn fast.
And now I'm home, and did you notice I put a link list in?
Monday, May 22, 2006
That's all right with me
Hey, Todd Browning's Freaks is on Turner Classic!
Not one of Todd Browning's Freaks
Not even a freak, well, not really, well, not even remotely.
Not one of Todd Browning's Freaks
Not even a freak, well, not really, well, not even remotely.
Monday or something
The FDA didn't approve the new disk replacement surgery.
So, I'm going to get a new MRI to see if my condition warrants waiting another year to see if the new surgery is approved, or whether it is prudent to just go ahead and do the spinal fusion procedure.
Prudent is a good word.
I'm listening to a really really really old Donovan CD.
It's good.
The bulb in one of my lamps is about to burn out. It was flickering about a half hour ago, but it's good now, but I bet when I turn it off it burns out, so I've got a new bulb ready just in case.
I am really bored.
I was going to pay some bills tonight, but I forgot.
Blogging, flogging, schlogging.
I chatted with Mrs. Martin Sheen today. She told me I'm not sick, but she thinks she's Mrs. Martin Sheen, so ...
The Benson 48 Marathon on TVLand in two weeks.
I guess that's it for now.
So, I'm going to get a new MRI to see if my condition warrants waiting another year to see if the new surgery is approved, or whether it is prudent to just go ahead and do the spinal fusion procedure.
Prudent is a good word.
I'm listening to a really really really old Donovan CD.
It's good.
The bulb in one of my lamps is about to burn out. It was flickering about a half hour ago, but it's good now, but I bet when I turn it off it burns out, so I've got a new bulb ready just in case.
I am really bored.
I was going to pay some bills tonight, but I forgot.
Blogging, flogging, schlogging.
I chatted with Mrs. Martin Sheen today. She told me I'm not sick, but she thinks she's Mrs. Martin Sheen, so ...
The Benson 48 Marathon on TVLand in two weeks.
I guess that's it for now.
Saturday, May 20, 2006
Saturday waiting for the neuro surgeon
Neuro surgeon in forty five minutes.
I wonder what wonders this wondrous visit will hold in store?
I should just go in there and smack him silly and tell him to HEAL ME!!!
But I won't.
But I will be wearing a short sleeve shirt today, kinda cool, kinda zippy, kinda withit.
I'm having another one of my sinus escapades.
There's a dog barking outside.
Someone just slammed a car door.
This morning the guy next door woke me up with his weed whacker.
I got all pissed off when I got a phone call this morning right after the weed whacker woke me up, but I was brought back down to earth when I found out it was one of my mother's cousins telling me that another cousin had just passed away. Those crazy 80 year olds, you never know what they'll do next.
The last of the birds that mock me has been chirping away non-stop for at least an hour, oh yeah, sure, now that I mention it, she stops.
There's a plane flying over head, one of those little private ones. There's a small airport about two miles from here, so I imagine that is where he is heading, and why did I refer to an airplane as a he?
My computer is making that grinding sound again.
The bird is chirping again.
I bet I have to get another MRI.
The dead skin from where I burnt myself a couple weeks ago is peeling like crazy.
I need a cough drop.
I just found the candles I was looking for last week when the power went out.
I think the short sleeve shirt I'm wearing today may just be a bit too cool, too zippy, too withit, and too LOUD!!!
I'm about to lose the toe nail on the toe next to the big toe on my left foot from when I was laying in bed a few weeks back and I had a muscle spasm and I kicked the wall ... hard.
The sun is shining today after a week or more of dreary, rainy, cold weather.
I like the weather on the 8's, but not as much as I used to.
I guess I should stop.
Wish me luck, and pray that the neuro surgeon doesn't go mental on me during my exam and cut off a couple of my limbs.
I wonder what wonders this wondrous visit will hold in store?
I should just go in there and smack him silly and tell him to HEAL ME!!!
But I won't.
But I will be wearing a short sleeve shirt today, kinda cool, kinda zippy, kinda withit.
I'm having another one of my sinus escapades.
There's a dog barking outside.
Someone just slammed a car door.
This morning the guy next door woke me up with his weed whacker.
I got all pissed off when I got a phone call this morning right after the weed whacker woke me up, but I was brought back down to earth when I found out it was one of my mother's cousins telling me that another cousin had just passed away. Those crazy 80 year olds, you never know what they'll do next.
The last of the birds that mock me has been chirping away non-stop for at least an hour, oh yeah, sure, now that I mention it, she stops.
There's a plane flying over head, one of those little private ones. There's a small airport about two miles from here, so I imagine that is where he is heading, and why did I refer to an airplane as a he?
My computer is making that grinding sound again.
The bird is chirping again.
I bet I have to get another MRI.
The dead skin from where I burnt myself a couple weeks ago is peeling like crazy.
I need a cough drop.
I just found the candles I was looking for last week when the power went out.
I think the short sleeve shirt I'm wearing today may just be a bit too cool, too zippy, too withit, and too LOUD!!!
I'm about to lose the toe nail on the toe next to the big toe on my left foot from when I was laying in bed a few weeks back and I had a muscle spasm and I kicked the wall ... hard.
The sun is shining today after a week or more of dreary, rainy, cold weather.
I like the weather on the 8's, but not as much as I used to.
I guess I should stop.
Wish me luck, and pray that the neuro surgeon doesn't go mental on me during my exam and cut off a couple of my limbs.
Friday, May 19, 2006
The year my parents had their problem
When I was a child I went to live with my aunt the summer my parents had their problem.
At first I slept in the utility room on a cot next to the hot water heater and furnace. It was a small space, but it was clean, and I had enough room.
One day my aunt asked me to help her clean the attic out. My aunt told me the attic would be my bedroom for the remainder of my stay.
After we finished moving everything out to the basement I noticed a hinged hatch way in the floor. My aunt opened the hatch and motioned for me to come and have a look. The hatch opened up into a four foot crawlspace between the first floor and the attic of the house.
It looked like a little miniature apartment.
I asked my aunt if I could make the crawlspace into my bedroom instead of the attic. She shook her head and laughed a little but she said she guessed it would be alright.
So with the help of about a half dozen extension cords, two lamps, a clock radio, a thirteen inch black and white television, a foot locker full of comic books and magazines, and god only knows how many blankets and pillows, this is how I spent my summer the year that my parents had their problem.
At first I slept in the utility room on a cot next to the hot water heater and furnace. It was a small space, but it was clean, and I had enough room.
One day my aunt asked me to help her clean the attic out. My aunt told me the attic would be my bedroom for the remainder of my stay.
After we finished moving everything out to the basement I noticed a hinged hatch way in the floor. My aunt opened the hatch and motioned for me to come and have a look. The hatch opened up into a four foot crawlspace between the first floor and the attic of the house.
It looked like a little miniature apartment.
I asked my aunt if I could make the crawlspace into my bedroom instead of the attic. She shook her head and laughed a little but she said she guessed it would be alright.
So with the help of about a half dozen extension cords, two lamps, a clock radio, a thirteen inch black and white television, a foot locker full of comic books and magazines, and god only knows how many blankets and pillows, this is how I spent my summer the year that my parents had their problem.
Thursday, May 18, 2006
So, there you have it
Ok, I'm a little embarrassed about the last two posts I made, but I'm back on zoloft, and I've almost convinced myself that even after only three days I am beginning to feel the effects.
Tuesday, May 16, 2006
Sweet sweet surrender
Ok, I should go to bed now, right?
Nothing on television, right?
Nobody on IM, right?
I'm not in the mood to read, right?
I'm tired, right?
Morpheus ascending, right?
Morpheus descending, right?
I'm feeling kind of dizzy.
I'm feeling kind of whoozy, and I think I prefer the zy whoozy to the sy whoosy, but that's just me.
I'm feeling kind of stuffed up.
I'm feeling kind of jittery, yeah, really jittery.
Ok, let's dial that jittery down a notch. I don't want to get carried away, but I am feeling jittery, but not jittery jittery, at least not yet.
This is the kind of night where I want to keep my mind active, you know what I mean, don't you.
Forget that idle hands are the devil's workshop.
It's an idle mind that is the devil's ... playground.
You should see me right now.
I'm wildly gesturing with my hands, like some traffic cop on one of those british protectorates down in the Caribbean, and I can't stop ... I can't stop ... I can't stop ... gesturing.
See, I'm doing it again.
You see what I'm trying to do here, don't you?
I'm trying to type and type and type and type until I am completely exhausted and then I'll just slip the surly bonds of flight.
Goddamnit, I was gesturing so wildly that I knocked over the glass on my desk, and isn't that a creative way to spell goddamnit ... I think.
So yeah, I'm staring over at the bed, and it looks pretty inviting. I just wish that the covers were already pulled down, and the pillows were fluffed, and I didn't have to wait for the computer to shut down.
So, does anyone want to chat?
Does anyone want to play a game?
Does anyone want to slap some sense into me?
Does anyone want to ooobie doobie doobie doo?
Nothing on television, right?
Nobody on IM, right?
I'm not in the mood to read, right?
I'm tired, right?
Morpheus ascending, right?
Morpheus descending, right?
I'm feeling kind of dizzy.
I'm feeling kind of whoozy, and I think I prefer the zy whoozy to the sy whoosy, but that's just me.
I'm feeling kind of stuffed up.
I'm feeling kind of jittery, yeah, really jittery.
Ok, let's dial that jittery down a notch. I don't want to get carried away, but I am feeling jittery, but not jittery jittery, at least not yet.
This is the kind of night where I want to keep my mind active, you know what I mean, don't you.
Forget that idle hands are the devil's workshop.
It's an idle mind that is the devil's ... playground.
You should see me right now.
I'm wildly gesturing with my hands, like some traffic cop on one of those british protectorates down in the Caribbean, and I can't stop ... I can't stop ... I can't stop ... gesturing.
See, I'm doing it again.
You see what I'm trying to do here, don't you?
I'm trying to type and type and type and type until I am completely exhausted and then I'll just slip the surly bonds of flight.
Goddamnit, I was gesturing so wildly that I knocked over the glass on my desk, and isn't that a creative way to spell goddamnit ... I think.
So yeah, I'm staring over at the bed, and it looks pretty inviting. I just wish that the covers were already pulled down, and the pillows were fluffed, and I didn't have to wait for the computer to shut down.
So, does anyone want to chat?
Does anyone want to play a game?
Does anyone want to slap some sense into me?
Does anyone want to ooobie doobie doobie doo?
Slipping and a sliding
I think I'd better call the doctor tomorrow and ask to be put back on zoloft.
My anxiety levels have been high at night for the last week, and tonight they have been exceptionally high, high to the point where I have been yelling at the little guy inside the computer, you know the little bastard I mean, don't you, yeah, the one who likes to fuck with your mind, oh yeah, but I'm not going to let the cocksucker get to me, and my apologies to any of you out there who might be cocksuckers, I mean no disrespect, and would cocksuckers be plural, or possessive, or plural possessive, see I can't even conjugate or whateverthat-gate is that deals with grammatical possessiveness.
So anyway, I'm going to call the doctor tomorrow and tell him to slip me some Z.
I mean, it was a noble experiment, trying to get off of it, but I'm feeling this tightness in my throat, and that's the first sign, the tightness, and I don't even want to think about the second, third, fourth, and fifth signs.
So, bright and early tomorrow morning I'm going to call Dr. Bobby Hill, not his real name, it's an inside joke, but yeah, tomorrow morning, I'm going to call him, and hopefully by tomorrow night Ziggy Stardust will be coursing through my bloodstream once again.
My anxiety levels have been high at night for the last week, and tonight they have been exceptionally high, high to the point where I have been yelling at the little guy inside the computer, you know the little bastard I mean, don't you, yeah, the one who likes to fuck with your mind, oh yeah, but I'm not going to let the cocksucker get to me, and my apologies to any of you out there who might be cocksuckers, I mean no disrespect, and would cocksuckers be plural, or possessive, or plural possessive, see I can't even conjugate or whateverthat-gate is that deals with grammatical possessiveness.
So anyway, I'm going to call the doctor tomorrow and tell him to slip me some Z.
I mean, it was a noble experiment, trying to get off of it, but I'm feeling this tightness in my throat, and that's the first sign, the tightness, and I don't even want to think about the second, third, fourth, and fifth signs.
So, bright and early tomorrow morning I'm going to call Dr. Bobby Hill, not his real name, it's an inside joke, but yeah, tomorrow morning, I'm going to call him, and hopefully by tomorrow night Ziggy Stardust will be coursing through my bloodstream once again.
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