bedroom galilee clive barker bathroom a lost lady willa cather car/walk mirror, mirror on the wall kate bernheimer, editor
office up r.e.m. car the heretic's apprentice [book-on-tape] ellis peters living room the sci fi channel
brand x the message came from out of the blue: Brand X welcomes you into its clutches.
1999 may 21
catching up
after running it through my head several times, i have come to the conclusion there is no way to make this a coherent whole, so i shall make it a list.
- peter parker has a problem
- it's a good thing i have gene in my life or i would no doubt be categorized as one of those strange women who lives alone with their cats, and tells tales of them. in any event, i shimmied when i should have shaked the other day and strained a muscle in my lower back. it hasn't been bothering me too much, but it aches now and again so i popped in to the grocery to get some liniment. after gene rubbed it on my back, he found there was still quite a bit left on his hands so he wiped them off on a dishtowel and left it sitting on one of the wooden dining room chairs until such time as one of us would remember to take it to the kitchen.
ten or fifteen minutes later, i heard a wet sort of snuffling sound. looking over to the chair, i saw peter parker with his face buried in the towel, kneading away for all he was worth. a few seconds later, he lifted his head and shook it violently, blinking his eyes several times, apparently trying to clear some of the menthol fumes from them. the fur around his mouth was soaking wet; he'd been drooling like a madman.
terrified he would poison or asphyxiate himself, i jumped up and took the towel away from him but he was having none of that. he followed me to the kitchen and when i put the towel in the hamper, he tried to jump in after it. so, i took the towel to the laundry and put it in the washing machine, with the lid down. he couldn't get in after it there, but he stay on the lid, scratching fruitlessly at it and meowing pitifully for several minutes before realizing he'd been cut off.
little addled menthol addict.
i can no longer dress myself- i've been so distracted of late that i have even more trouble dressing in the mornings than usual. i've lost the corduroy overalls somewhere in the house, wore a pair of white socks yesterday that didn't match [one anklet, one up to the calf athletic] and today i wore my underwear inside out. good thing i didn't get hit by a bus or my mother would have been mortified.
the results are in- the doctors in las vegas had to send the biopsy from s.'s brain all the way to new york for a full pathology report. the results are not good: stage three cancer. a. didn't leave the name of which type on his message, but i don't suppose it matters too much at this point. they are making arrangements to fly home and s. will undergo all her treatments up here, surrounded by the people she loves and who love her.
culinary achievements- i am the queen of cream of broccoli soup. more on this soon.
listing somewhat to the left, claire
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