littleghettoblaster

I quit smoking those P-funk Lights 24 weeks ago, bitches. There were more than a few people who didn’t think I’d make it this far — myself included at times — but I did.

So: In. Your. FACE(S).

Grumblegrumble… try and tell me I’m a smoker who can’t quit… grumble… I’ll show you… grumblegrumble…

no more smokey

It’s been a week now. Last weekend I got hit with a back spasm. A few days into that, it was compounded by popping out a couple ribs — one from a coughing fit and one from a sneezing fit. Obviously. Who doesn’t know you can pop out ribs while laying immobile on the floor and performing normal (if not violent versions of) bodily functions like a *hack* here and an *achoo* there? But me? I had no clue about any of this, the ribs. I just laid on the floor (I asked Luc to get the ThermaRest out for me) and spent the week seeing how many millimeters I could move myself in various directions and also I cried a lot.

I can only be at the computer for small chunks of time at a time (that sounds awkward, but you know what I mean). I’d love to get into the dirty deets behind the different treatments I’m doing, but that’ll have to wait until another alottted “computer time chunk.” Or until someone gives me painkillers.

I’m still in shock. I’m sure I’ll get used to it, but whatever I was going to post was blown out of my mind by the new look/nav/genereal UI of the new WordPress Dashboard. So, I’ll post later.

I was hoping to have had an awesome brainstorm by now. One that woulda left me with, like, a gazillion ideas about things to make for Christmas.

I tend to overbuy this time o’ year — who doesn’t, right? — and I don’t want to do that this year. Not only is it stupid, it seems a little unclassy, what with the economy bottoming out and all (I imagine a tacky, tricked-out import that’s lowered too far driving over speed bump, to illustrate both ‘bottoming out’ and ‘unclassy’). Instead, I wanted to make something for people. But what?

Well, I never had that brainstorm. And I haven’t had a lightbulb flash on over my dome yet. But it is December, time’s a wastin’ and I don’t know if there’s enough of it to not only come up with an idea but also execute it. So, my next thought? Donations in other people’s names. Or giving tree kinda stuff — find places that are getting lists from kids & fams and then delivering donated presents. Not sure exactly what to do, but I’ve still got a little time to work it out.

What about you? Making any changes to your holiday prez-givings this year?

Some things about me right now:

I tend to be serious. I laugh often. I like things to be meaningful. I know of 3 new married couples in as many months (that kinda wierds me out). A lot of ladies I know are either preggers or had a kid recently. I have a friend with HIV (we call it ‘the hiv’) and today being World AIDS Day keeps making me think about him. I think a lot about feelings. I’ve been making changes.

And you?

I’m thankful that my brother’s alive. I’m thankful for my folks and their relatively good health. I’m thankful for Luc’s existence. I’m thankful for all my friends and non-blood family. I’m thankful for this coffee. I’m thankful for my cat (most of the time). I’m thankful for quiet mornings, like this one.

Just a few I thought I’d share. And you?

^{*edit: the title of this post is taken from a speech Charlie wrote for Dennis in “The Gang Runs For Office.”}

I have pink eye. It was a really difficult diagnosis that went like this:

“See me eye? It was crusted shut when I woke up,” I said to the pretty nurse lady.

“Yes, I see your left eye is pink and swollen,” the pretty nurse lady said to me.

“Yeah, so, what is it?”

“Probably pink eye.”

“Weird.”

“Yeah, kinda.”

Because pink eye is what little kids get, and they get it ’cause little kids are dirty. I think I’ve heard of cokeheads getting it too, but again, there’s an inherent “dirty” factor. Me? Not a little kid, not a cokehead and not inherently dirty. My weird cold-y flu bug just impaired my immune system and allowed bacteria to move in. Ew, right? It is to me anyway. At least I’ve got antibiotics, but it’s still no fun.

Moral of the story? Uhh, there isn’t one. Juts don’t get sick, ever.

Sunday, I miss a friend’s bridal shower because I have a cold and don’t want to spread it.

Monday, I feel a lot better.

Tuesday, Luc loses his debit card in the block between parking the car and going to get coffee. Also, I feel kinda crappy again.

Wednesday, I wake up really sick, but have a lot of work, so I work in my jammies and drink lotsa peppermint tea. In the eve I get a burst of energy, so I go pick up a coffee table found on craigslist and eat at Carta de Oaxaca. My illness kicks back in at the end of dinner.

Thursday, see Wednesday, but replace the burst of energy in the eve with Tylenol Cold Nighttime.

Friday, I’m still sick. Luc loses my debit car, just like his on Tuesday: between paying for parking and getting coffee. He determines the only thing that could’ve happened to both and is sadly right: he threw them away. We then have a pre-9am double-dumpster-dive morning. Success! We get both cards back and Luc gets to work, with a little extra cologne, before 10.

Today I woke up to find that I couldn’t open my left eye all the way. Off to the newly discovered Minute Clinic to get some ‘biotics for pink eye (colds/flus can cause ‘em! who knew?), then back to the couch where I will remain for the weekend.

Here’s to hoping your week’s in better health than mine.

It’s Veteran’s Day. Take a peaceful second and think of someone who died fighting under our flag and think of anyone who’s stood up for what they believed in. And be nice to soldiers.

Seattle danced in the streets. There was an impromptu parade on 1st (with a marching band!). Thousands of people stood together at the corner of Pike and Broadway. A cardboard cut-out of Barack Obama popped up for photo-ops. People sang. So many smiling faces beamed. I started breathing easier.

He told us, “Yes, we can.” We believed him. Now we can say, “Yes, we did.”

Part of me isn’t surprised. Nope, not in the least. It’s the same part of me who wrote this over a decade ago (I can’t remember how it ended up in the Seattle Times:

Martin Luther King, Jr. was a man to be admired. He showed us that we, as people, need to stick together. Throughout history people have been discriminated against and he started a movement that has shown people not to judge, but to love. He had a dream that needs to be carried on, and our generation should be the one to do it. If you’re not part of the solution, you are part of the problem.

Bess Dwyer, Mountlake Terrace High School, Grade 10
Mountlake Terrace, Washington

That side of me? She always knew there would be a black president in her lifetime. The “problem,” I thought then, layed with old people, and they would eventually die off and let the young, fresh-minded rule. Naive as she was, she always knew that MLK, Jr. was right, down to every last word. She knew that our country is the Bigger Man when it comes to things like racism and prejudice. She was not surprised last night as tears streamed down her face while watching the Obama give his acceptance speech.

The older, more cynical me? That’s another story. She was worried about jenky voting machines and voter suppression and unethical people being in power, and near the end she was starting to worry that there were a lot more closet racists than expected (yeah, I was a little worried about the Bill Bradley effect).

I’ve never been so happy to be wrong.

I hope that cynic in me goes and dies in a fire now. She started showing up in 2000, and then in 2004 she took over residence within me. I haven’t been able to kick her out, yet. But all this hope I’m feeling should start pushing her around, at least.