Yesterday I made a list of people I needed to call to schedule appointments. At the top of the list: allergist. Mom called yesterday morning and said, “Have you seen the wheat doctor yet? I really want you to be able to eat bread again.” I think the next time I come to town, she’d like to be able to serve “normal food” again. It’s very difficult to eat like a proper Polish girl without pierogies. Also, I don’t like life as much without pierogies. Read more
I never know how to approach the booksellers. I end up saying, “Hi, I wrote this. Do you want me to sign your stock?”
It sounds so dumb when I say it, but I’m not sure what else to say. “Hi, I’ll write my name in each of these, because I really want you to sell all of them, and I’ll do whatever it takes to make these stand out next to all the thousands of other books around them. Please let me write in these books.” Read more
This is the closest I’ve come to work in five days. The last time I took a break from work for more than part of a day… I think was my honeymoon. My honeymoon was also the last time I read a whole book in a day. Which since yesterday? I did. I missed the ocean, though. I showed Mom and Bosie pictures from the honeymoon and started getting nostalgic. Then yesterday morning when I opened up the bottle of sunscreen (because it was very sunny and windy out and I was going to be running for more than an hour), the smell of Maui hit me with the warm breeze and the SPF and a little, sad tear fell from my eye. I got an email from Faye — who got married pretty close to when we did and we all ended up coincidentally at the same hotel in Maui — asking if we were all accidentally meeting up again this year, because it sounds like such a lovely-rich-people-thing to do, accidentally vacation together every year. And perhaps we’ll call it “on holiday.” Read more
The very nature of a blog is self-serving, self-aggrandizing, self-important and selfish. I know that I write these thoughts down to entertain you while keeping a diary for myself, as I seem physically incapable of writing unless there’s a prospect of an audience. But some days, I do wonder what it means that I write all of this shit down. Particularly now, when I’m about to tell you about a rash. Read more
It’s like a tennis ball got lodged somewhere underneath my ribcage, just above my diaphragm. That’s what it feels like after I eat. The only thing that makes it feel better is jamming my hand under my ribs, pushing in on my stomach. I don’t feel sick, I don’t have anything but the sharp pain that makes me feel like lying down in my chair.
This has been happening for the past two weeks. Read more
1. You will not be home before eleven.
2. This is because you are at work.
3. When you wake up, it is because you have work to do before you get to work, because there’s so much work you can’t do while you’re at work.
4. Suffer the constant teasing that you’re leaving one show for another. Feel like you’re changing schools again, just like when you were a kid. You’re leaving all of your friends and sure that everyone at the new school will hate you and will never be as cool as the friends you have now. Read more
So, my twitchy eye. It went away, but now it’s back. It’s back and it’s mad. It wants to be heard. It wants to be seen. It used to be other people wouldn’t be able to see it if I forced them to stare at my head, but now you can see it. You can notice it. It looks like my eye wants to leave my face.
It’s my right eye. The twitch is in the upper eyelid, and it appears the twitch will go away only when I’m talking about, worrying about, addressing or thinking about the twitch. I searched the Internet and found a range of solutions, ones that started with “It’s perfectly normal,” to “…Unless it’s a brain tumor.”
The Web doctors seem to all agree that it’s caused by caffeine, lack of sleep or stress.
oh yeah. i’m sorry. that’s christmas.
My, oh my. It’s already Christmas time. That means it’s almost the year 2000. What’s Conan gonna do with his sketch? “In the year 2001” doesn’t really have the same ring.
This also means it’s time to send out my Christmas cards. Last year I had a great time exchanging them with you guys. The bad news? I changed jobs. I lost just about every address you guys sent in. The good news? I want you to send them again. If you want to exchange Holiday Greetings, send me your address. Huzzah!