it's 4am and i'm up thanks to a reactivated ankle injury. i knew i twisted it slightly this weekend, when i was at this farm and i lost my balance in an unpaved area, but i didn't realise i fucked it up this badly. it bothered me all day at work, since there was no way to elevate it AND work at my computer simultaneously. i knew i was in trouble when painkillers didn't really help.
i got home at 7pm, laid down to rest and passed out from the ache, the same way i do when it's the time of the month for me to hiss at that curious bitch Eve for cursing womankind with a bloody punishment for her stupidity. i woke up a few hours later and yes, it still hurt. i can't put weight on it. i can't walk on it without being all gimpy, though sometimes i can...i.e. it feels like P.E. all over again, when your teacher says to "walk it off". i found myself walking down the hallways at work today, occasionally feeling better, almost moving normally...then out of nowhere, pain again. i started to fret about seeing a doctor. what if my 15-minute appointment took place in the exact anomalous window when the pain subsides? gah.
as if i can see a doctor. yes, yes i have health insurance but i miss Kaiser something fierce. you know, i was never anti-HMO. i loved my HMO. they made my mom well-off (she works for Kaiser) and they made my life EASY. sick? call. done. today, i tentatively called the 800 number associated with my current health plan, which is by no means inexpensive. i told them my ankle hurt. they asked me for a zip code. once provided, they gave me a dizzying array of doctors "in (my) area". when i asked how this even works, since i am wholly unfamiliar with it, the human chirped something about how she's not my provider, she's a middle-party and here's another 800 number to call to discuss coverage and costs. oh, what i would give for the days of
make an appt
show up w/a $10 co-pay
GAH. who has the fucking energy for this shit? and why is an ankle that was last seriously injured during the great soccer-playing summer of 2003 acting up so inconsiderately?
this was one of the main stories on my work portal this morning. my heart just breaks when i think of anything happening to my godson, so the story took on extra significance; this little girl was staying at her godmother's home when she was attacked by another child who was living there. i'm praying the godmother gets over her guilt and pain, b/c i know i'd be destroyed if something happened to pudge while he was with me.
Officer tells of finding 8-year-old under concrete slabs
LAKE WORTH, Florida (CNN) -- An 8-year-old girl who police say was raped and left for dead in a landfill asked for a pastor "so she could thank God" shortly after her rescue from beneath a pile of stones, her godmother said Monday.
Police said the girl also identified her attacker even before she was removed Sunday from a trash bin at the abandoned South Florida landfill.
"She stated that she wanted a pastor to pray with her so she could thank God for saving her life," Lisa Taylor, the godmother, told CNN. "She's 8 years old. Isn't that the most beautiful thing you've ever heard?"
The girl was being treated Monday at St. Mary's Medical Center in West Palm Beach.
Police say she was raped by a teen staying at Taylor's home and then crammed into a recycling bin and covered with rocks and stones.
"She was left for dead," said Lake Worth Police spokesman Dan Boland.
What would you call the perfect banana?
Just ripe enough to peel easily? Or all soft and mushy?
the perfect banana is probably greener than most normal humans like it. "just ripe enough to peel easily" is a surprisingly good way to describe it, but i feel like pointing out that i'm fine w/the ones that peel like fibrous tamales. the big question is "spots"; are there any? b/c if there are, HELL NO. in fact, the ideal banana has no marks whatsoever blemishing its flawless yellowy outside. it is pristine, it hasn't been jostled about in the bottom of my tote bag, nor has it been over-handled by some unknown fingers. it's firm and not too sweet. my mom says that my father had the exact same exacting standards for a banana. she also said that i like the taste of banana sap, b/c that's what's present in the sort of banana i like, the ones with a tinge of green. of course, my malayalam is sub-par, so don't hold my translation of "sap" against her.
when i peel a banana, it should be perfect from tip to toe. not slightly brown and mushy at the top, no. it should be uniform and solid, not too stringy. and the last bite should separate from the peel effortlessly, with no degradation of texture.
manhattan is the best place in the world b/c you can buy everything you'd ever want on the street. the fruit vendors always had bananas that resemble what i've described here, so i was never without. the other reason why manhattan is awesome is b/c it's NOT a big, impersonal city. it's a big, personal one. my fruit guy got so used to me, i'd cruise right past him, picking up a prime specimen and leaving a quarter all in one fluid motion, w/o the need to break my stride or have him ackowledge the transaction with anything other than a knowing smile.
sugar- changes inspiral carpets- this is how it feels L7- pretend we're dead midnight oil- dreamworld gene loves jezebel- jealous lush- sweetness and light xtc- mayor of simpleton tall paul- precious heart dinosaur jr- just like heaven
first they played the video to "There is a light that never goes out," then they wordlessly segued into "Carolyn's Fingers" by the Cocteau Twins. CAROLYN'S FINGERS! that's the CT song i love most. i'm going to faint from a joy that was impossible to anticipate, from the beauty of real music enveloping me in a sonic cocoon that i would never leave, if given the chance.