The lightning does it for our hearts
This morning: I went for a medical procedure I had been putting off for something like three years. It was not a lot of fun, but it did not land me in the hospital like last time, and the results were neutral to reassuring, which is a range I am totally fine with. Last night was the worst, especially around four in the morning when
derspatchel rolled over and held me and sang "You Are My Sunshine" because I was shivering so hard. We brought Doppel-Abbie with us to the doctor's office. Nobody seemed to care.
Afternoon: I thought I was going to come home and fall over, because I slept about three hours last night and not even all at once, but instead I have just finished eating my first solid food in over twenty-four hours, a small bowl of very tender beef. Abbie pawed importunately at my knee, but I explained firmly it was Not for Cats. He never believes me when I say this. I tell him Doppel-Abbie knows the difference, but I don't think he believes that, either.
Evening: I am going to the opening night of the Post-Meridian Radio Players' Spring Sci-Fi Spectacular II. Double feature of
audioboy and
beowabbit's Them! and Rob's Red Shift: Interplanetary Do-Gooder—Crisis of the Cuddlykins. I don't know if I should plunge straight back into all the weird candy
vanguardcdk will be selling, but it will be tempting.
Roger Ebert is gone. I wanted to write something for him yesterday, but I was in no shape to do it. Matt Cheney has a very fine remembrance of him. I don't know what to say now, except what everyone else has already been saying: he was the last of a generation and more than just the symbol of it. I read all his reviews, even when I had no interest in the movies. I do not know who else will ever be like that for so many people I've known as well as so many I'll never meet.
And the rest of this week has been stressful in ways I'm still parsing, but right now I'm breathing and beginning to hurt less, and it is not even cold outside.
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Afternoon: I thought I was going to come home and fall over, because I slept about three hours last night and not even all at once, but instead I have just finished eating my first solid food in over twenty-four hours, a small bowl of very tender beef. Abbie pawed importunately at my knee, but I explained firmly it was Not for Cats. He never believes me when I say this. I tell him Doppel-Abbie knows the difference, but I don't think he believes that, either.
Evening: I am going to the opening night of the Post-Meridian Radio Players' Spring Sci-Fi Spectacular II. Double feature of
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Roger Ebert is gone. I wanted to write something for him yesterday, but I was in no shape to do it. Matt Cheney has a very fine remembrance of him. I don't know what to say now, except what everyone else has already been saying: he was the last of a generation and more than just the symbol of it. I read all his reviews, even when I had no interest in the movies. I do not know who else will ever be like that for so many people I've known as well as so many I'll never meet.
And the rest of this week has been stressful in ways I'm still parsing, but right now I'm breathing and beginning to hurt less, and it is not even cold outside.
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Perhaps Doppel-Abbie needs a blog. Take care.
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Enjoy the sunshine.
Nine
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Who is Doppel-Abbie? Presumably a fuzzy that looks like Abbie? Anyway, I hope Doppel-Abbie was a comfort!
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I hope you have a wonderful time this evening.
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It's sad about Roger Ebert. He was great.
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Yes.
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Also, it's always good when you have complex procedures and manage not to shoot the week to utter shit, I find.
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