…the who cares girl…

hibiscus with grapes, originally uploaded by …the who cares girl….

The Boy is watching some Australian skateboarding film, and one of the characters just said, “You’ve gone totally hibiscus!”

Is it POSSIBLE that’s a reference to the leader of the Cockettes, and the inspiration for one of my gayest paintings??? (I doubt it, but you never know) (look at how progressive “The Adventures of Priscilla, Queen of the Desert” was)

Every day I take Aurora avenue to work. It’s not particularly speedy, but the I-5 is always hellaciously clogged, and who wants to deal with that? Sitting in traffic on a freeway = hell for A.D.D.. Aurora avenue is hideous, blocks and blocks of used car dealerships and quickie marts and “bikini baristas“, (not to mention the sordid history of prostitution) but there is one building–ONE BUILDING–that I pass every day that I cannot figure out.

There are always crusty people milling about in front, smoking cigarettes, with disheveled hair, white tennis shoes. You know, tacky. It’s an unmarked building, and I swear to God, the mystery is driving me nuts. Every day between 8 and 9, and sometimes even before 8, there they are, the Crusties. I don’t think it’s an AA meeting (I’ve actually been to a notoriously nuts meeting on Aurora and it’s on the other side of the street). If it’s a business it certainly isn’t marked. WHAT IS IT??? I NEED TO KNOW!

Before I put us on a diet we had donut day. The Boy surprised me by bringing home gourmet donuts from a little shop he’d been telling me about. They still, amazingly, can’t top the donuts from the Korean deli up the street, but the maple bar with bacon (are you paying attention, Corinne?) was amazing. Mmmgggrrrfffff.

I’m still going through photos I took while the Boy was out of town. Last week I was rather…uninspired.

Typical view from my computer desk.

If you wrap Maggie in a sweatshirt she will sit perfectly still like a statue while you laugh hysterically at her and take multiple photographs. It’s a shame she doesn’t do that for wigs, too (I’ve tried, oh how I’ve tried).

I have so much energy this morning, it’s ridic. And about time. I wonder if it has anything to do with the fact that I didn’t take Benedryl last night? I usually take Benedryl every night, and often Ambien too, and last week I was so tired I had to force myself to stay awake while driving to work (Aurora avenue isn’t particularly inspiring, either) and at work I downed cup after cup of coffee and I still napped every day. Whatever, I’m gonna run with it. Yes! Forecast says: time to start a new painting.

Disco Ball in the Sun , originally uploaded by majikcamera.

Best disco itunes radio station: Disco ball.

This morning I woke up with Lou Reed’s “Perfect Day” in my head, and I think, yes, I’m pretty sure–that things are looking up! Also I moved my bowels. It’s important to move one’s bowels if one wants to have a feeling of SUCCESS!

The Boy has an appointment with his crazy doctor this morning and I wrote him out a grocery list to pick up on his way home and added “puzzle (1000+)” at the bottom. What the hell. It’s been long enough! And it’s not like I’ve done anything creative in that long, sad time away from puzzles, just ate a whole shitload of sugar and watched multiple documentaries on Netflix and watched my ass grow.

Speaking of sugar, I recently ordered another hypnosis c.d. and this one is called “Eliminate the Desire for Junk Foods“. I’m hoping it will turn my obsession with ginger ale and chocolate chip cookies into an obsession for…um…water and…broccoli? Yeah. Water and broccoli.

* My mother’s doctor’s list of the most important things in life.

The phone kept ringing all week, and it was my mother nearly every time. I’ve been going through a phase of intense apathy mixed with an incredible lack of energy, so I didn’t answer the phone, didn’t call her back. This afternoon the phone was ringing again, and there were a couple of numbers I didn’t recognize but with my mother’s area code, which the Boy joked was my mother calling from her neighbor’s house. Then she started calling the Boy’s phone. After begging him to call her back (he refused) I finally called her.

“Oh, thank God,” she sighed. “Remember when you used to not answer your phone, what you were doing?”

“What was I doing?” I knew very well what I was doing.

“Drinking!”

“I’m not drinking,” I groaned, re-adjusting the blanket covering my lap and shifting slightly from my horizontal position on the couch to reach for more cookies. No, there’s no reasonable explanation for my three-hour naps, snarfing of sugar, and complete lack of interest in anything creative. It’s not a hangover. Not even depression, really. Just: MER. Or even: merp plerp blee-terp.

We watched documentaries on skateboarders today. Skateboarders make me moist. Especially the old school footage. I can watch that shit for DAYS.

dj ruth flowers, originally uploaded by …the who cares girl….

69-year-old DJ Ruth Flowers rocks Paris clubs.

(thanks, Dlisted!)

A patient of mine has been refusing to take a shower for weeks. He considers it a form of “protest”, a way of getting back at the people who have him “trapped” at the facility. The problem is, he’s starting to stink.

“Maybe,” I suggested to him yesterday, “You could just surprise everyone…by taking a shower!”

No response. He doesn’t care about “surprising” anyone, he just wants to irritate everyone. I tried a different tactic.

“Look, if you’re trying to prove that you’re a competent adult, just remember, people who aren’t crazy take showers. People who are crazy don’t take showers, because it interferes with…their crazy time.”

I was really proud of myself for spontaneously coming up with such brilliant logic, but my patient was too busy scowling at his tablemate, who was stirring his coffee with a packet of tarter sauce, to reply.

The Boy and I recently watched “One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest”, and now, with two months of my current job under my belt, the characters in the film don’t really appear to be all that crazy.

“Oh yeah,” agreed my patient. “The more you watch that movie, the saner they seem.”

In other news, “Boom!” arrived yesterday, but I actually fell asleep on the couch watching it, that’s how lethargic I’ve been the past few days.  Bear Cub is accompanying me to work today. She hasn’t been to work with me since last summer–she didn’t do so well on the dementia ward, but it’s fun for me.

I needed more cookies and ginger ale so I drove to Walgreens with the girls and on the way home we stopped at the creepy little park for run/fetch/fun times. The moment I let the dogs off their leashes we ran into an extremely obese woman clutching a tiny animal to her ample chest. It took me a moment to figure out what the animal was.

“Is that a cat?” I said, even though I could tell it was (translation: what the hell is a cat doing here?).

“Yes, it’s a cat,” she sniffed, then added haughtily, “We’re practicing leash training.”

Oh Christ. Cats at the dog park? What is this world coming to? I tried boosting my lackluster energy with an energy drink while at the park. I hadn’t had an energy drink since the Mega Panic Attack of Spring 2008, and thought, what the hell. DISGUSTING! How did I ever used to drink those things? Maybe I could tolerate them back when I was smoking since all of my taste buds were dead, but no longer. I’m just going to have to ride out this wave of laziness…on the couch. Yesterday’s couch movies: “The House of Yes” and “Signs”.

Memorable quotes from “The House of Yes”:

Marty: Are you being wise?
Jackie-O: One day I woke up wise.
Marty: One day I woke up stupid.
Jackie-O: What’d you do?
Marty: I went back to bed.
Jackie-O: That was wise.

Jackie-O: They’ve switched me–I used to be green, now I’m brown. I wanted my pills to match my eyes. Color me beautiful!

Lesly: I don’t think you’re insane.
Jackie-O: You don’t?
Lesly: No.
Jackie-O: You don’t think I’m an eensie weensie bit insane?
Lesly: I don’t think you’re insane. I think you’re just spoiled.
Jackie-O: [exasperated] Oh please, if everyone around here is going to start telling the truth, I’m going to bed.

Tom Waits has a new album called “Glitter and Doom”. That’s a damn fine name for an album. Now if you’ll pardon me, it’s couch time.

I think I just ate seven or eight gingersnaps, but I’m not sure. It happened so quickly.

Maggie accompanied me to work today, and busied herself looking for dropped food in the dining room. There’s always dropped food in the dining rooms.

My energy level is extremely low today. Seems like a good day to get horizontal on the couch and view something heavy, and foreign, since I won’t be multitasking. Noooo multitasking today, unless napping while watching a film counts.

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