Sunday, October 14, 2018

Saturday, October 13, 2018

Three haiku for A Star is Born



"Why's Bradley Cooper
talking like Sam Elliott?"
I wondered, then...oh.

Gratuitous dog,
Only there to wait outside
That closed garage door.

Wow, Lady Gaga
Is great, but I didn't cry.
And I always cry.

Monday, October 08, 2018

Before I forget

I have been slightly better about writing down my dreams immediately upon waking over the last couple of weeks. I still have stretches of several mornings in a row in which I remember nothing, or I remember vividly for the two minutes it takes me to pee and walk downstairs, where my mind goes blank. Still, it's better to walk downstairs, open my laptop, and type up whatever I can recall, instead of scribbling in a bedside notebook, because 1) it would probably wake Mark up (he typically sleeps another half hour or so after I get up) and 2) my fingers are slow and painstaking when it comes to handwriting, even when I'm fully awake.* My typing fingers can go like crazy, though.**

Just now, I was reading the word "formaldehyde" in an essay by David Sedaris at the exact same moment that a woman on NPR said the word "formaldehyde." This happens to me all the time (oop, Ari Shapiro just said it again, formaldehyde, just as I was typing that!). You say coincidence, I say..? 

I was reading a Twitter thread with comments that was all about the outfits people like to wear on planes, and it was so soothing. Here it is! Ahh, it is lovely to read everyone's cozy favorites. Even though I'm famous for my hatred and terror of flying, it made me want to assemble the perfect airplane ensemble. Soft pants with pockets. Joggers? I found some fleecy lined ones with pockets. A tunic of some sort, either a luxe sweatshirt or super soft cashmere. A blanket scarf. Fancy compression socks. A travel pillow, noise-cancelling headphones, and big sunglasses. 

Plus, you know. My magic talismans for not crashing, and plenty of Xanax.



*They've forgotten how? But also they have a new ache/stiffness. 
**Not to brag, but I have the typing fingers of a 30 year old.


Tuesday, September 18, 2018

Blood is thicker than water

I was thinking about health today, and growing older, and drinking water or forgetting to. My parents are such good water-drinkers — it's part of their routine to get glasses of water before bed, and if I were an excellent host I'd always leave a carafe of freshly filtered water by their bed when they come to visit.*

Anyway, I was just drinking some water and thinking about water and dehydration and realizing that lately every time I realize suddenly that I haven't been drinking enough water, I think of this one phlebotomist who was disappointed in me because I was dehydrated and she couldn't find a good vein. But...phlebotomists love me, I thought. How can this be possible? "When did you last drink water?" she asked me, frowning. I was instructed to fast for twelve hours, so it had been twelve hours since I drank water. Still, I felt I'd let her down, and vowed never to disappoint another phlebotomist again.






*Note to self: add carafe to wish list. Also, filter

Saturday, September 15, 2018

Saturday, September 01, 2018

Rabbit rabbit

Cap know what do.


Maybe, just maybe, September will be the month I stop neglecting this goldurned blorg.