1127 words. Starting on the 19th, sometime around noon, I fell ill. As I type this I've climbed mostly out of it, though I expect the cough to wane. Friends on Google+ witnessed the madness of this experience and I thought others should share in it as well, since they won't be bothered to use G+ like the cool kids.
It's long, but if you dig me, you'll dig it. I promise. Excerpts and screenshots follow...
Tuesday, woke up in a great mood, virus hit me in the face around lunchtime.
"I have the TV on but muted because I forgot about it. I do that.
There is a soap opera on, and I thought, "Wow, is that Scotty? I don't like what he did to his face." He has that thing where all his face is in the lower half? And Botox.
And a couple minutes later I looked up and there was Luke, and so the woman turns out to be Laura. 30 years is a long time, man.
Apparently Tristan Rogers still turns up now and then as Robert Scorpio. I was way into him.
Show looks super boring, though. People seem to be having many heartfelt and tearful conversations.
Also, Scott, Laura, and Luke appear to be having the exact same story from 1980.
Wednesday: fever has taken hold
"Rory Swan posted that triangle diagram with the angles marked good looks, intelligence, emotional stability, and at the midsection it says "pick two."
Now I can't decide if my answer is feverishly profound or just feverish. But I think there's something in it. :-)
:We're just all different types of triangles. Equilateral, scalene, isosceles, and we have different degrees of angles, so some are right, some are acute, etc. In the end, it all adds up to 180º, and we just need to find the correct triangle to match up with and form a happy quadrilateral.:
(Not that I think you can't be a perfectly content polygon all on your own...)
"Are the shades of Pemberley to be thus polluted??!
And more importantly, why has no one brought me cake? I would like lemon, or spice, or just a good white or yellow cake with a fluffy old-fashioned boiled frosting.
"Alec Baldwin once tweeted at someone, "You are a tedious, pedantic bore, but your engagement on the issue is admirable."
"Talk of this new Google app reminded me I had not signed into Evernote on my replacement Kindle Fire, and they didn't recognize the device so I had to type five words from "recent" notes. And out of nearly 3 years of notes, the only thing that came to mind was my 2011 Thanksgiving list. So I named some Thanksgiving dinner stuff and it worked.
"I'm watching Ride the High Country from 1962 with Randolph Scott and Joel McCrea. I was thinking that McCrea looked very groovy to me even as an old man. But it turns out he was just 57 when he made this movie. And that's only 10 years older than me...perhaps not actually an old man...
Thursday: dashed optimism
"Mama I'm so tired but I just don't wanna sleep.
"Um, what's on my mind.
~I went ahead and made an Aviation on ice, to calm my chest. I'll have to drink a lot of water afterwards, but I have been anyway.
~I bet 99% of you won't share this=I am a horrible person you never want to meet.
~On Sunday, before the Andre Watts concert, there is a Pride champagne buffet. How interesting would that be? But it's raising money for something and is way pricey. Also, no matter how bold you are, milling about alone is still generally a little awkward.
~I signed up for Camp NaNoWriMo to make sure I finish my new story idea in good time. Here's the thing. I intend for it to be about 70 pages. http://campnanowrimo.org/campers/bibliosylph/novels/i-want-to-believe
~The other day I was having a discussion with someone that led me down a weird Google Image rabbit hole I have not climbed out of, and this is a recent result of that.
"I called one sick boy in here to kill the bug which wasn't bothering me for days when it lived in the window frame behind the heavy blinds but scared and upset me when it flew out to the top of the French doors. It's the kind that will fly at you. Also, it's not native. Or wasn't. And those upset me most. And anyway, he left the hallway door open as he went at the bug with a washcloth and Shadow of Night by Deborah Harkness because they are so hard to kill, and that let the cat in, and she went behind the bed where she will stay forever, breathing loudly and having fur, so then the other sick kid had to come and chase her out with a broom.
Now I have a headache and I ate cheese and caramel popcorn which is no way to get better or keep fitting into your clothes. And I am really very tired of Karl Malden today because my bedroom is kind of hot but when I leave it, I cough because of walking around and using my respiratory system.
Saturday: I don't know, at this point, what else to say.
"It's just about that time of the month.
No, not during which I wish to join Mr Darcy in the bath so he can wash my back with a Regency-era bathbrush, and eat chocolate and cry.
I think that probably ended, if it ever did exist for me, in a previous -decade- century before I had the tubal ligation. (except the Darcy part. That probably actually increased.)
For me, it's just about that time when sycophants bother me more than usual. When people who speak as though they are composing greeting card verse designed to neuter someone's honest thoughts kind of piss me off. When, and this is especially cruel and horrible of me, men who are not logically-minded but are inclined to approach a subject with emotional delicacy and the tenderness of baby bunny feelings nauseate me even more than usual to the point where I want to substitute the blades in their razor with sarcastically dulled ones so that they will cut their precious sensitive skin on my words.
I don't want to see out-of-context photos of a single rose with a dewdrop aching to fall from one glistening petal, or cheap cliched sentiment pasted in the Bradley Hand font over a rosy sunrise, or anyone metaphorically fellating a celebrity for some special sentiment they once repeated on a morning TV show interview.
I mean, I don't feel that way at this exact moment. I'm just stating these things prophylactically because I know it's coming.