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Again with the Ebola, nipple-biting felines. 2001-02-07 People, people, Ebola has come to North America! Did you hear about the woman who flew from Congo to Canada, with a stopover in Newark, and who is now in the hospital with suspected Ebola? Oh man, this is so cool, but of course in a horrible way. I should explain something about myself: I am fascinated by terrible diseases. Riveted. My friend, Kim, and I have seriously considered writing a book about disgusting diseases, because we can't be the only ones who are this interested in them--there have to be other people with prurient medical interests. So the Ebola is right up my alley, and it's very timely, as I just read The Hot Zone last week. Since I love the Ebola, I am torn. Of course I don't want this poor woman in the hospital to be confirmed with it, since it would mean she'd die and might have spread it to others, in which case many many people would die. I don't want to die and I don't want you to die, unless you are Mary Wellborn, and then I take it back. But let's not get into that right now. And see, on the other hand, I am so fascinated by Ebola that I almost want that woman to definitely have it, so I can see how it all goes down. I'm sick and I know it but I can't be the only one....can I? I went to the kickboxing on Monday night and I enjoyed it. I felt a little foolish, since I didn't really know what was going on at first, but I didn't disgrace myself, so I'll be going back tomorrow night. Walking to my car afterwards I almost wanted someone to attack me, so I could beat the shit out of him. I just felt really powerful, that's all. No one attacked me so I went home and ate cheese and basil ravioli. Mmm...ravioli... I was thinking this morning about the first time I took the boy shopping for new shoes. He needed some that were nice enough to wear to church with his grandma, so we went to the mall, and he kept being attracted to the Most God-Awful shoes--patent leather faux snakeskin pointy-toed shoes with gold-tone buckles. I was being at my most diplomatic, trying to steer him to more appropriate footwear. HIM: "Look at these--these are really nice!" ME: "Oh...yes. Well, you know, I think those might be Too nice." HIM: "No, shoes can Never be Too nice!" I did succeed in buying him some less flashy shoes, but I know he considers the patent leather pointy-toeds as 'the ones that got away'. Based on the boy's shoe preferences and a few other personality traits, I think he'd make a great pimp. He prefers the flashy clothes, he likes to stay up late, and he's a people person--it all adds up. Not much else to report. Esther coughed again last night and I basically begged Francisco to get up and pill her, because I couldn't face getting my ass out of bed. I went right back to sleep but Francisco laid awake for awhile because he let Esther under the covers post-pilling, and she is not real good at being unobtrusive. Lucy will curl up against you and basically conform to whatever shape you need her to be, but Esther will lay so that all her legs are pointing at you and all her feet are touching you, and then she will periodically flex some of her feet so that her claws poke into you when you are just ready to drop off. This is not conducive to sleep. It is, however, better than Lucy's occasional nocturnal experiments, specifically her experiments on us. One time she bit Francisco's nipple in the middle of the night, in a manner which suggested that she just wanted to see what would happen. I can only imagine how long she stared at the nipple before making her move. Okay, I'm going to be done now. If you want to chat about your love of diseases and how you would totally buy that book if Kim and I wrote it, email me; we'll talk.
come over some time & see me - 2011-02-25 |
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