Sunday, November 21, 2004

It's always hit me from below

Saturday night....

It's 58 frikkin' degrees in my apartment. My dog is wagging his tail to keep warm... 'cuz I know he's not that happy to see me. I'm drinkin' vodka lemonades and pretending it's hotter than fucking hell out and THIS is actually nice. There is absolutely nothing stopping me from curling up on my kitchen floor and freezing the fuck to death. Ok... that wouldn't really happen. The freezing to death part. But there's nothing keeping me from seeking solace on some cold hard linoleum. Marko, where are you when I need you to either join me on the floor, or pick me up and deposit my sorry ass in bed?


There's a picture I have that reminds me of a time when I was giddy happy (engaged at the time to a man I had not yet learned to hate). It's a shot of my sister and myself. My sister is in this bright orange turtleneck. We're at our mom's place... several trees line the driveway. Chris is photographed from a distance with her arms spread wide, popping out of the trees. My noggin' is barely poking out. And, though you can't even really see either one of our faces (my back is turned), it's my favorite picture ever of the two of us. Sisters.

Sunday night...

I started this last night, but decided to put it on ice. My apartment is much warmer, thank you.

Yesterday was a nightmare. Something right out of a Heironymus Bosch painting. I worked at the bar for the last Hawkeye football game of the season. At home. Against Wisconsin. It was... disgusting. I came pretty damn close to throwing in the bar towel a few different times.

My friend Mark came down when I got off work cartin' an incredible box of chocolates for me. They're from Berkeley... the place is called Scharffen Berger. I'm one of those strange women who doesn't crave chocolate ever, but placed in my little hands, I'll scarf it. And it came in handy last night.

Mark told me he had something to tell me. He asked for my hand. "Uh oh... this is going to make me feel like shit, isn't it?" Well, yes. It did. Jeff (aka Twitch) got married. To Sarah (aka Twatch). She's pregnant. Scharffen Berger makes a delicious bittersweet chocolate. Tonight, I'm going for the semisweet.


This morning I got up, head pounding. I dutifully took my Fosamax tablet (which my friend Charley refers to as 'Fossilmax') for this lovely condition called osteoporosis. I then went straight to bathroom and vomited. Five times in the space of an hour. So, I decided to go back to bed and got up at 3:30.


The upside of this day? I got to see Mimi. She's doing really well, by the way. And we're going together for pedicures on Friday.


Jason, thanks for keeping me off the kitchen floor last night and for being a good friend. Can't wait to hear the new CD when it comes out. And speaking of music, everyone reading this needs to go out and get Madeline Peyroux's new album, 'Careless Love'. Listen to track four and dance in your living room. I'll be over here in my very cool (literally) apartment doing the same.

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