Sdtrk: ‘Falling for you’ by The Soundcarriers
Ah, good! It’s nice to be back, and nicer still to see that you lot haven’t set the place ablaze in my absence! Although I see our liquor cabinet’s been broken into, and all our absinthe is gone. That figures.
So what have I been doing during my Official Excuse for Not Writing Period? Well, attempting to take it easy, really. I caught up on a few Emails, which may not sound like anything significant, but anyone that knows me knows that my missives tends toward freight trains of paragraphs, with periodic months in between responses, so it was nice to polish some of those off and get them to their intended recipients. After having to reintroduce myself, that is. No, seriously. ‘Hi, remember me? You wrote me last year, and now I’m writing you back?’ *shaking head* Man.
Also, I contracted pleurisy! Which is a heresy. I got it from Morrissey! Alright, I’m done. But yes, I did indeed get it, which is frankly ridiculous, as far as I’m concerned. I mean, how Dickensian can you get? Although I did know two people that once contracted shingles, and one of my best friend’s past landlords apparently came down with gangrene, so I’m merely contributing to the Revival of Olde-Tyme Ailments and Maladies. Much to my chagrin.
The upper part of my lungs were somewhat sore for over a week, so I went in to my doctor’s office to be seen to. Unfortunately, my doctor was on holiday, the tosser, so I was shunted over to the other doctor that shares his office, whose curt manner left a little to be desired. She called for bloodwork, chest X-rays, and an EEG, which is the most activity I’ve ever experienced at my GP’s office — usually it’s just ‘stand on this scale, roll up your sleeve, breathe in, breathe out, here’s a script, GET OUT’. She did, however, prescribe me some Zithromax, and gave me an inhaler to use. Weeks later, I’m still making use of those, as I’m still fighting this sumbitch. Ergh.
Pleurisy, if you’re not familiar with it, in which case you should be grateful, is ‘an inflammation of the pleura, which is the moist, double-layered membrane that surrounds the lungs and lines the rib cage,‘ as WebMD says. It’s usually caused by bacterial infection. Of course, that has me wondering where and how the hell I got infected, as I’m one of the neatest freaks in Christendom. In lieu of a definitive answer, I shall blame my workplace, as it’s never brought me anything good.
Actually, no, I take that back; work has brought me exactly one good thing! Well, ish. Since there’s now a ban on bringing in books — I refuse to comment on that, cos you already know what my answer would be — they gave out company-branded notebooks made from recycled paper. Each one came complete with a pen, and a cloth loop to hold said pen, which was actually kinda cool. As I’ve been arbitrarily herded over to a different section, I’m surrounded by coworkers that I’ve never seen before, which means they’ve never seen me before. I tend to hide and keep to myself when I’m there, if you can believe that. But on two separate occasions, I’ve had coworkers, upon viewing me scribbling in my company-approved notebook, ask me if I was writing poetry. Poetry? Also, there was one lass who’d asked me if I was writing raps. Raps‽ Do I look like a rappist??* Well, I suppose if that’s the only reference point for music that you possess… no, wait, that still doesn’t make any damned sense!
So since there’s a ban on reading, and a ban on using cellphones, I spend my workdays writing posts or letters, and being made aware of two things:
1) Paper slows me down, and
2) My handwriting is a collision of indecipherable glyphs. Huh.
*tears out sheet, wads it up*
Apparently, BBC America aired ‘Love me, love my Doll’ again on the 22nd of August. I recall that evening I was poking round my blog’s Dashboard and checking its stats, as per usual, when I’d noticed that at one point, there were like ten people looking at ‘Shouting etc etc’ simultaneously! As I’m always the last to know whenever the BBC America programme directors decide to trot that documentary out again, I was wondering what forum / site was linking to me and making disparaging comments and snide remarks this time. It was all good, as the kids say, though. It’ll just be nice once the National Geographic documentary airs, as it won’t be so… dated. And no, I don’t have a date for it yet; I could tell you were getting ready to ask.
Coincidentally enough, I was spotted, thanks to ‘Love me, love my Doll’, at one of the stores I frequent! As I was making my purchases, some random lass stopped me and said I looked familiar.
SOME LASS: ‘Were you on television?’
ME: ‘Perhaps I was!’
SOME LASS: ‘Yeah, you were on that documentary with the Dolls, weren’t you! I thought you looked familiar!’
ME: ‘Yeah, that was me. My partner and I have been together for about nine years.’
SOME LASS: ‘That was really… interesting. How much do they cost, $10,000?’
CLERK: ‘You were on TV? What kind of show was it?’
ME: ‘Noooo, they’re only about $7000! (to clerk) It was a show about artificial humans.’
CLERK (takes my wrist, squeezes it): ‘Are you real?’
followed by hearty chuckling from all parties involved. You’ll note how I didn’t answer the clerk’s question, though. *winks*
Finally, if you cast your gaze to the lefthand sidebar, just below that ‘Today’s Kanji’ widget that remains largely ignored, you’ll spot a new addition to that particular area: my Amazon.com wish list. It’s rather large; you can’t miss it. Compiled over the course of seven years of wishful thinking, it’s a great way to click on and shop for things that interest me that might well interest you. It’s also a great way to discover what I’d like for a gift, and to buy it for me! Cos really, when it comes down to it, I ain’t too proud to beg.
And that brings us, roughly, up to now. Expect more posts soon!
So how are you, then?
*I don’t call them ‘rappers’, I call them ‘rappists’, as rap rapes my ears. I’m fairly certain you’ll agree
