December 2009
Happily anticlimactic details as promised
Following last night’s poking and prodding at the ER, I have now been to an imaging center (where I had a “Doppler” test* - what am I, a storm system?**) where it was discovered that I do not have “Deep Vein Thrombosis,” the primary risk of which is the development of blood clots (which can cause pulmonary embolism and thus death). The symptoms I’m experiencing...
“I was a lurching hobo of despair.”
– possibly my favorite sentence so far in Chip Kidd’s ‘the Cheese Monkeys.’
Text snippet from yesterday
Teenager: He called me beautiful.
Me: And you are.
You know what? Go fuck yourself, 2009.
In beginning to piece together why I had recently fallen to pieces, I forgot a few substantive events, which may have been contributing factors:
The newborn daughter of some very dear friends died after barely a day on earth;
My husband hasn’t been able to secure a job (despite vigorous efforts to do so) for most of this entire calendar year;
Our puppy had the fight of his life with...
Announcement which should bring much-deserved...
I have showered. You’re welcome!
It's not you, it's me. Seriously.
Last night I powered up my netbook for the first time in what I knew had been awhile, although I couldn’t remember precisely how long. Judging from the number of operating system, antivirus program, and Firefox plugins that immediately pestered me to update them, it had been something like three weeks. I’d gone from using this thing (which serves mostly as a desktop, with external...
“If a motherfucker, in fact, snowed, it would be exactly like what is happening...”
– @jagosaurus.
“That’s it, you little troublemaker. I’m going to throw a hamburger...”
– the 9 year old, playing a video game that, perplexingly, involves throwing food at a monkey.
While dropping the teenager off at school, in the...
Teenager: We should give the Jeep a name. How about Old Betsy? That's what Amelia Earhart named her plane.
Me: You want to name our vehicle we just got back from the shop after one that famously crashed in an unknown location and was never seen again?
Teenager: Okay, so maybe just 'Betsy.'
Shhhhhhh
The obstreperous beagle is snoozin’ at my husband’s feet. I stealthily grab sneakers from the bedroom, silently shutting the door behind me. Gentle, much-harassed foxhound who, earlier, had been sitting at my feet on the couch (as I watched some weird French film on Sundance, the likes of which my husband would certainly have snored through, loudly), gives me a questioning look. We are...
Just got back from a 2.5 mile walk and damn, my...
Seriously, Lynyrd and Ernie are like, “What the hell, Mom? We never walk that far. Christ, give us some water already.”
We are now at the "mournful braying" part of the...
At least it’s not a *solid* two hours of Ernie violating our every pillow, cushion, and additional companion animals.
So, we set up a puppy cam to see how the dogs...
And now we know we have, perhaps, the humping-est beagle in all the land. (I am so sorry, Lynyrd.) (And also the pillows.) (And also the couch cushions.) Seriously, there is a completely appalling amount of humping.
“Beagle beagle be good, beagle beagle be good, beagle beagle be good, be good...”
– new song for when we leave the house, to the tune of Men at Work’s ‘Be Good Johnny,’ as an expression of hope that he will not destroy the house in our absence.
[reblog of @westvillagedyke's most interesting...
Who do you think you guys are, characters in a Marge Piercy novel?
But perhaps I’m overly worry-prone. The last time I went to Chicago for a woman - long story short - it did not end well. May you have much better luck, you brave and crazy souls. ( <— inevitable early ’90s Melissa Etheridge reference)
westvillageidiot:
Hello. My name is Christine, aka @westvillagedyke....
Ask me anything.
But I’ll be damned if you get to do it anonymously through some weird ass, newfangled formspring-y thing. Because I’m a suspicious, prematurely curmudgeonly person with an intense dislike for feelings of vulnerability, and I need to have some sense of just who in the fuck you think you are, wait a minute, back up, let me get a good look at you before I decide whether or not I’m...
Nice.
I am the sole inhabitant of some dude’s ‘favorite hasbians’ list.
Seriously you guys
This is going to be the Frankenstein of birthday cakes.
Wilburly, amirite?
That shit was hilarious.
Took the whole family to the Grand Illumination in...
And I think we’ve pretty well established that the beagle is not a fan of fireworks.