Tue 3 Jun 2014
Posted by PJ under aging, birthdays, caregiving, cats, characters, djinn, heroes, ideas, illness, internet, mom, nature, observations, pictures, poetry, reading, religion, reminiscence, science, sexism, spirituality, the universe, writers, writing
I love this man: http://ontd-political.livejournal.com/10981269.html
Some days I miss hanging out with my characters so much it hurts. Some of them were running though my mind a lot today. Maybe I’ll be able to use all this to write a really profound book one day. Either that, or croak early.
Always glad to see Jenny McCarthy slammed for her unscientific and harmful beliefs on vaccines. Can we start on Gwyneth Paltrow now? Oh wait, she’s just criminally elitist and stupid, not a murderer.
I feel bad that you feel badly. Perhaps your doctor should examine your hands.
The dream factory isn’t dead: it keeps supplying me with good ideas I haven’t got time to write.
I like the idea (from The Caliph’s House by Tahir Shah) that the Jinns decide whether or not we’re going to believe in them.
Could this woman be any more blinkered and entitled? Yeah. I don’t think she’s bottomed out yet.
My cat is sad because she wanted to seek enlightenment but all the other cats cared for was tuna.
Louis CK: “I got a white noise machine. You know what that is? It’s a machine that allows white people to sleep.”
Pro-tip: Don’t ask an animal activist the old joke question, “Do you know how to get down off a duck?” You’ll never get to the punchline.
Pro-tip2: Use a ladder.
Duty vs. personal aspirations, that’s my conflict. Most days sublimated, some days excruciating.
ETA: Love is also in the mix, making things more confused.
Walmart’s false argument: RT If Walmart Paid Employees a Living Wage, How Much Would Prices Go Up? http://www.slate.com/articles/business/moneybox/2014/04/walmart_living_wage_if_the_company_paid_its_employees_more_how_much_would.html …
I believe in science and I believe in spirit. This doesn’t have to be a dichotomy or a contradiction. It just is.
While eating chips I read, “Every bite of food you eat alters your daily metabolism, electrolyte balance, and proportion of fat to muscle.”
And my mother turned 93 today. Happy birthday, Mam!
Dear Nekkid Girl Posing In An Abandoned Warehouse: it isn’t arty. You’re still just a nekkid girl.
When did “alone” become synonymous with “lonely”? The two are quite distinct.
The transport company that takes Mom to dialysis two days a week just called to say that in May they’ll charge $70 a ride not $30. I don’t know what we’re going to do. We can’t afford that, and the alternative is me missing a lot more work.
Potentially hopeful news from the social worker yesterday about transportation for Mom to dialysis. Don’t want to say much for fear of jinxing.
No, I never engage in magical thinking, why do you ask?
Let go and let the Universe. I now have three possible solutions to my mother’s dialysis transportation problems.
I’m so old I remember having to get up and walk over to the TV to change channels.
Me at the cafeteria: This morning I need a whisky muffin. Hold the muffin.
A hornet’s nest found in an abandoned shed. The head is a part of a wooden statue it fused with.
pic.twitter.com/rL1xLzXLLB [Warning: may cause the wiggins.]
Nature abhors a vacuum.
Maybe I should do as my spam suggests and get myself a Russian Bride. Of course, I might not be able to fulfill all her expectations. Too bad they don’t have a green card program for “domestic assistants.”
What Hitchens got wrong: Abolishing religion won’t fix anything http://www.salon.com/2013/12/07/what_hitchens_got_wrong_abolishing_religion_wont_fix_anything/ …
Avoidance seems to be the chief management style of many organizations.
I’m thinking of starting a company called Clusterf*cks R Us. Probably wouldn’t get much business, though.
Okay, maybe I’m a little panicky over how much I have to do before my surgery in two weeks. And maybe the surgery, too. And the recovery.
Verging on a lot.
My spam keeps sending me a “Notice to Appear.” I think I’ll send my Russian Bride instead.
The night air is full of jasmine crushed into luscious fragrance by the first heatwave of the year.
Even the most shining hero is a human being with feet of clay. If we’d just remember this, there would be less anger in this society.
The same government agency which made us prove my mom was married to my dad and that he had died needs us to prove it all over again 20 years later. Different department, you see. Apparently they’re unable to communicate with one another. Dealing with government agencies is a big component of caregiver fatigue. It wouldn’t be so bad except my dad’s death certificate has gone missing and L.A. County takes 4 weeks to get a new one.
Or maybe I won’t have surgery in 2 weeks. If I put it off this time, it will be 2 times.
Mom is home from the hospital. She’s doing okay.
I wonder if the superbuff guy on the cover of so many romance novels who’s face disappears past the top of the cover has a really ugly mug?
Or if, yanno, it’s supposed to be some artistic sh*t.
Or if, yanno, it’s so women can fantasize any man they want?
Abandoned mill from 1866 in Sorrento, Italy: Oh, the stories this conjures up!
I think “narcissistic loony toon” sums M. Lewinsky up quite nicely. She has wedged her way back into the public eye just like that string was wedged between her cheeks.
[Fortunately, it was a brief appearance and quickly faded from the public’s notice.
The Red Queen still rages. “The trick is not becoming a writer. The trick is staying a writer.” —Harlan Ellison
My surgery has been officially postponed. Mom had some minor setbacks that were major enough to warrant postponement.
I’m deeply ambivalent. I don’t fancy being a cripple for the rest of my life, however.
I think I’ll change my middle name to Ambivala.
“The reality of old age,” she says, is that “people are not in good shape, and everything is falling apart.”
Everyone says, “It’ll be different for me. I’ve taken good care of myself.” But you NEVER know what life will throw at you.
That’s life’s sweet and cursed mystery.
“When you’re young you look at old people & just think they’re old people. It’s only later that you properly realise they’re ex-young people.” —Tom Cox, Twitterfeed 5/10/14
Everyone thinks they will be 30 until they’re 75. Until they hit 40, I guess.
RIP Lady Mary Stewart. You filled my Young Adulthood with many happy hours.
Ironic or psychosomatic? I wrenched my knee on the very day my surgery would have taken place. Not the one that would have been operated on, either. My other knee which has as many problems and will need its own surgery someday.
I’m at the bargaining with the Universe stage. That can’t be good.
My friend and I were just saying that the next Survivor should feature an all-geriatric group of contestants.
“If your team all successfully completes your challenge, you will be given your meds as usual. If not…”
And complaint marathons to see who lasts the longest. That competition is expected to go on for days.
I can hear a train whistle every once in awhile late at night. It’s always wonderful. I don’t know where it comes from. There are no trains closer than five miles, but I guess that sound carries. Either that, or it’s the ghost of a train which once ran just down the hill from where I live.
When I was a kid I used to follow those tracks from Venice, once all the way into Culver City. The trains only ran once a month late at night to keep the access rights. Eventually, they gave those up but the rails remained for years afterwards, partially covered in blacktop in some places. They’re all gone now, alas.
There is so much that is gone. Venice is a highly urban place now but once was full of open fields, trains, horse stables. I’ve seen them all go in such a short span of time. A lifetime. Palimpsests. They’re everywhere I look, all over Venice.
Here’s one of my palimpsests: http://tinyurl.com/oa4z3mh
“It’s the fire in my eyes,
And the flash of my teeth,
The swing in my waist,
And the joy in my feet.
I’m a woman
Maya Angelou seemed immortal, but it was her glowing humanity that made her seem that way. Alas, if only. RIP.
It’s such a pain reading academic books on the Kindle that I’m going to order a paper copy and be done with it.