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My Profile
Because I can't bear to eulogize Doug - 2008-08-19
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3:18 p.m. - 2003-05-16
I'm in a funk and a snit. Funk and Snit. Sounds like a Sunday morning political talking head show on PBS. "This week Funk and Snit host vice-under-secretary-assistant-backup singer to the Agriculture Liaison to the Secretary of the Pencil Pushers Goober P. Hoosfoos, who will discuss why the Bush Administration’s embargo on Chilean navel lint will stimulate new home starts in Nome, Alaska." The snit has a very obvious (if not exactly noble) cause, Alex is in Disney World right now. Oh, it’s not like he decided on whim to skedaddle off to Orlando, he’s on his senior trip. He paid half, I paid half and if I’m cranky that MY senior trip was to the Bear Mountain Zoo (a hot, noisy day trip by school bus and we brought our own bag lunch) and HIS senior trip is 5 days at the Happiest Place on Earth in swank hotel with 4 star restaurants, it’s my own damn fault for insisting we live here in upper-crusty Podunkville. Friggin’ Podunkville High School where the Ski Club’s winter trip this year was to GSTAAD, SWITZERLAND and the only cars in the school’s parking lot that cost less than $30,000 belong to the teachers. I’m just dead jealous is all. I NEED a vacation. I want out of this place so bad. I’ve spent exactly ONE night away from Wolf since he was born. ONE morning where I didn’t have to wake up before the birds and start doling out Cheerios. ONE stinkin’ day where I was free to come and go according to no desires but my own and that of my friend Tsuki who was with me. The last vacation (come to think of it, the ONLY vacation) Mike and I took without the kids was 7 years ago when we went to Cancun. And ha-ha on me, who came back from that little jaunt pregnant? Right. And the last time I went away all on my own before THAT was 11 years ago when I took a cross-continental train trip out to see family in Seattle. So yeah, I’m a bit cheesed that my kid is having a high old time with Mickey and the big whoop of my week was Monday night when I changed my toe nail polish and refused to move until it dried. Whoo doggies, what a sybarite I am. The funk is because I’m flaring. I had nursed this stupid little hope that with the coming of Consuela and my release from house drudgery and/or the stress of living in filth that I would be able to sail along and never be at the mercy of misfiring neurons. Like a housekeeper is a cure for MS. Wrong-o! I’m flaring big time. My right eye is blurry and dim. The long muscles in my legs are so spastic I goose stepped Wolf out to the bus this morning, my knees won’t unlock. I broke my favorite tea mug, the one with the nice grippy handle and the Tuscan fruits painted on it, because my hands are soooo stupid. (It’s taken me over 90 minutes to type this, every other stroke is hitting the backspace key.) I can’t eat, I’m choking on anything solid. Today’s menu: tea and chicken noodle soup sans noodles and chicken. Waaaaaah! C’mon over! The Pity Party is just gearing up! With some time I’m quite sure I can work up a good solid crying jag too! Maybe even drag out the old Suicide Pros and Cons chart! Let’s have a Whine-along! Everybody together now. Ready? “My life sucks. My life sucks. My life sucks...” TGIF? Yeah, whatever. ~LA
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