I hate Chistmas, kinda

Tis the season I start crying: wha wha wha wha wha. wha wha wha snort.

On the plus side, there is Almond Roca everywhere. Also the smell of pine. And hot lights.

The problem is, i really really really DO buy into the whole seasonal delusion that something magical and beautiful is supposed to happen. And that it requires the expenditure of time and money for that magic and beauty to occur.

My child does NOT want to go to the woods to hack down a fresh christmas tree for only $5. She lectured me about how it was mean to kill a tree that is out in the forest minding its own business providing us oxygen and scenery.

She also does not want to go see Santa at the newly remodeled Santaland at the Historic Meier and Frank building. Screw you, it's still Meier and Frank to me and always will be. This despite my EXTREME nostalgia for this place where I saw the Gingerbread Bear as a child. She doesn't seem to find MY nostalgia compelling for some reason, now that she is too tall to ride the monorail.

What DOES she want? A new Christmas dress and an iPod. Things I cannot afford, but feel extremely guilty about being unable to provide.

I do however look forward to all the singing and yelling. In the car mostly.

When it rains....

someone horks.

Ok, technically, that's not how that goes; except this week, it is.

Because I am a person who avoids vomit and/or vomiting with all the will I have at my disposal.

And speaking of having at my disposal, when I got home from the ER where they gave me Vicodin on an empty stomach, that's exactly what I did. Because the toilet was too far away. Blea-ah.

And today, after my chiropractor appointment made me late for work, I get a phone call from daycare telling me that Aria has "thrown up a little" No-EH! Gramma Bev to the rescue thank goodness.

But I do find it disturbing that every member of my household vomited this week. I hope the trend does not continue.

Crashing Sucks.

I'm fine. My car is munched. It was my fault. Stupid intersection at 14th and West Burnside. As additional punishment, I have to drive a Focus until my repairs are complete.

Splitting headache.

Poop.

Sometimes

it is naught but the nuance of language that stands between me and the brink.I am chased and chasing words and implications; distinctions so fine as to be illusory, when this chimera is the best comfort to be hoped for.

and yet, i am comforted, by these faint and futile particularities. by the refusals transmuted to avowals. by a glance, by clasping, by tones and timbre.

and thus the dazzling dark is pierced.


Current mood: contemplative

The patients in my clinic

Are extra-strength hilarious.

A little old lady I was testing this morning told me "You look like one of those ladies on tv. You know, the ones who sell things?" I can honestly say no one has ever compared me to a QVC lady before, but I think it was about damn time.

Then, just now, I was checking some guy's insurance benefits and told him he'd be eligible again in 2008 and he looked at me and said "Well, when in aught-eight will that be?"



Aught-Eight?


That is augh-some.

Ovaries: Where can I relinquish mine?

I mean, they came in handy when I was trying to do that whole "reproductive" thing, but those days are behind me now, and frankly, apart from keeping the facial hair at bay, I can see no further use for mine.

They do however cause considerable annoyance to me at regular intervals. The ups-and-downs of life are one thing, but the 45 degree turns and screeching halts of my menstrual cycle are quite another. Also, I see no further use for a libido when I have no one handy to make use of it with, besides which the recently evolved habit of drooling over the inappropriately young football playing patients in the office is distracting me from important paperwork.

So, I just need to figure out where the local drop-off site is. I mean they recycle them don't they? Like Christmas trees?

If you are reaching for YOUR laptop rather than mine in this situation...

I think it's best if we just stay "friends"

One Misty Moisty Morning...

When cloudy was the weather...

I broke out my woolen socks this morning. I'm wearing a turtleneck and hiking boots. It is officially lumpy wardrobe weather. On the plus side this also means I can wear my hideous and hugetastic harvest-gold corduroy winter coat complete with woolen plaid lining and a sash. I got it at Goodwill 6 years ago for $12 and I have never ever loved a coat with such abandon. Also my mittens which fold back in half to reveal fingertip-less gloves. Oh yes, I love them.

So I'm happy it's cold enough for those....


An addendum to this train of thought: cable knit tights. A favorite of school girls everywhere; I need some, yo.

Life in 3-D

Well, o.k. technically, I still don't have depth perception; but that's all about to change...

I had my first round of Vision Therapy last Friday. It was really exciting, and Dr. Nancy had very encouraging things to say about my prospects, but oy vey with the headache!

Basically it all amounts to lots of eye exercises and funny accoutrement. Yes, that's right folks; the return of the eyepatch! Not only that, but also a pair of SUPER snazzy red/green goggles the purpose of which is to try and see the world in brownish instead of what I currently see: 2 of everything in Christmas colors. I really really want to find one of the pointy-bead-topped things Dr Nancy uses for me to follow with my eyes instead of using my finger or a pen. If there is an opportunity for a shiny accessory to accompany any activity, you know I will begin the coveting of it post-haste.

Already I'm noticing changes. This morning when I opened up my eye to look around, it took me a full 2 seconds to determine whether I was looking with my good eye or my bad one. True, I was face down and looking at my nightstand, which isn't far away, plus my vision is always a little blurry after sleeping on my face and the coincident eye-squashing that goes along with it. But this was monumental. I have never been not-sure which eye I was seeing out of before. Heady stuff.

As soon as those headaches ease up, I'll be golden. Well, brownish anyway.

My favorite part of trick or treating...

Apart from it being over that is...