9:42 pm - July 30, 2005
Dread Pirate Roberts was right.
Being good. Ish.
Lung capacity diminished since Manwich and I went on whatever "hiatus"-type-not-broken-up-YET-thingy. I think I've been having one long panic attack for the last few weeks. Makes it easier to give up smoking, though.
I kind of feel like one of those glass christmas tree balls, the red shiny ones.
Please don't hurt me, Manwich, you hold my heart in your hands, and I'm fragile today.
No, I'm not totally brain-dead. I realize that whatever this may be, in the end it's just a really long good-bye. This does not stop me from wishing I could lay down with you and put my head on your shoulder and feel your arms around me. C'est tres pathetique, je sais. (Ou je connais?)
***
Ma's visiting this week. Wish she lived closer than 1700 miles away. She's going to have surgery after she gets back to Illinois for a mass a little larger than a softball in her mid-section. On a lesser note, her big toe nail needs to be removed as well, it never grew back right after she broke her toe and is now infected. It's pretty gross looking. I've told her that manicure shops can stick a fake nail on her toe, so she won't look funny, but she seems strangely unenthusiastic.
They put my cat, Gatsby, to sleep on Friday. They say he was suffering and it was kinder to do it then, rather than wait til I was done with work and could be there. There is a very, very sick part of me that's jealous. O-G and I were never cuddly friends. Instead we had a sort of understanding. We nodded in passing. There was respect.
I think I finally understand my brother Bear's shutting down. Sometimes is too much. Going to go listen to the mix cd's that Manwich made me when he loved me. 1st song, Reckless Kelly, Twisted Winding Road.
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