Phenergan’s Wake
tweet thisFiled under: Deep South, faith, family, food, health, humor
I’ve had an ill-behaving stomach, as of late. Which has kept me up at nights, uneasy and nauseous. I couldn’t eat much of anything yesterday; I had to practically force myself to eat the leftover cheese sticks, a bowl of soup, and half a chocolate bar (with hazelnuts). So, I did. But, I couldn’t bear to go another night with fitful sleep; so last night, to combat this, I took a Phenergan. It’s a pill prescribed for upset stomachs, etc. We fear I might have IBS. (That’s quite a conversation-starter, there, is it not?) It took a couple of hours, but it did the...
That’s how we bring up all children in our family: by ear.
Filed under: Deep South, Everyday, family, health, life
I like to think I'm a good uncle. Even though, I don't really know my "real" nieces and nephews. I've seen Millie, once; I've seen Auden, once; I've never meet Vinnie. So, to make up for this: I give all my grand uncle-ness to a series of young cousins, whose mothers I grew up with, as my nieces, being the baby of the adopted family I claimed with their grandmother, who I took as my--- You know what, let me scratch that. It's too confusing. My family tree, you know, is really just an assortment of random branches that were blown down during a storm, and happend to fall around...
I was able to order my fish sandwich without incident.
I can no longer ignore the inevitable because Wednesday, June 24, is fast approaching. And that is the day in which I must board a plane. And fly to Memphis, in which, I will get off one plane and onto another one...and head to Tacoma. A city in a state so far away from here that it might as well not even be a part of the United States. Few other things make me as defensive or difficult as flying. Because I'm so afraid of it. Not just because I'm mean. Flying is something that I can safely hate. I become neurotic, distraught, maybe even mean...I'm...
If you don't want to bleed for it, don't put it in your blood.
I had a terrifying thought, this morning, on the way to work: I'm afraid I might be a duplicitous man. Duplicitous. I used to think that described a man who had lots of love affairs. Would that it were true. But, driving out to campus, I really questioned what I, up until this morning, had believed was my emotional and physical elasticity when in the face of any crisis. Now, I wonder: what if all I've done is misunderstood what I thought was others' general defection of accountability because I'd mislabeled it in my own life? I hate this thought. I've hated it all...
"I hope you're not wadding," she said.
Here is a list, far from exclusive, of things that aggravate me: people on cell phones behind the wheels of cars; vomit; I cannot stand pudding, at all, and other things that fall in that category include meringues and Cool Whip; individuals who misuse (or use at all) the conveyor belts in line at the grocery store, except when absolutely necessary; and cheap toilet paper. Again, this is far from an exclusive list. Of the things listed above, several have affected me in the last 24 hours. Last night I dreamed I couldn't quite get up this rather large hill. It was exhausting,...
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