Al, sorry for your troubles. I have nothing like your level of problems (but no fine husband and beautiful kids either), but still I get annoyed when other bits of me get in in the act of causing me pain (okay, lower back is top of the pile, okay my shoulders have to be constantly appeased but at least that's muscular/fascial, okay, my knee gets painful but it always settles down, okay so the tennis elbow gets bad in the mornings - oh come on, now my foot is in agony? yes I realise this was the earliest problem of all but it's been stable now for ages, what am I here, ninety years old?).
I'm sure your neurologist is very eminent but I am not convinced that pain doesn't sometimes call out other pain.
That quote is in its awful way awesome.
Sorry about the migraine, Al. I had an MRI yesterday and it was awesome, so there's something to look forward to . Being inside a big clanky machine is surprisingly relaxing.
I'm too horrified by the kittens to really say anything. I hope the psychopath gets as good as he or she gives.
You just have a lot of different things wrong with you. And that sucks. At least the neuro isn't trying to push you off to another specialty.
The kittens...horrible, horrible, horrible. I cried.
On that cheery note, I do wish you & yours a Merry Christmas. Peace on earth, goodwill to all.
Being inside a big clanky machine is surprisingly relaxing.
Yeah, I've only had them done as a paid volunteer in studies, but they put me to sleep.
fucking hell that story had a horrible ending.
Sheesh, al, I don't even know what to say to all of this. You sound clear and I love that, but ugh to so much of the rest of this. I'm so sorry you're still dealing with so much.
(and i can't even close my tags.)
Wow, that's a lot of awful things. I hope it all gets better soon.
I am putting off packing. Off to rainy LA for this evening for a five day visit around Christmas. I don't know why I am so unenthused about this. I'm usually pretty keen on Christmas. But I am feeling slightly dreadful about it.
When I see that you have posted, I usually have a warm feeling of happiness that you are feeling well enough to shake your fist.
Also, I am making (among other things) roast goose tonight and want to make sure my guests find it edible.
I am thinking of using this recipe, but do you all have sny advice?
The goose is about 5.6 pounds, and I've read enough to know that I will have to stretch it with plenty of sides.
I didn't like that story. I wanted it to end with somebody getting his or her junior psycho ass kicked but good.
I don't think you were meant to like that story.
Nothing I say here should be taken as mitigating the bastard who threw the kittens down 18 storeys, but bear in mind that the people who tie unwanted kittens in bags and throw them in the canal (they still do) think they're getting rid of them as humanely as possible and wouldn't understand if you called them monsters. Probably the perpetrator in this case thought that by dropping them what looked like a lethal distance he was giving them a quick release. (I'd give him one too, given the opportunity.)
al, I'm sorry your migraines are back, but it's good they're taking it seriously enough to give you proper meds. Hang in there and enjoy Christmas as much as you can.
Agree with flippy. Please rewrite kitten story to have happy ending and ass kicking.
Total agreement with 11. Your writing, al, is one of my favorite things to read on this--or, frankly, any--blog. Here's hoping 2013 brings you many more diligent twenty-year-old copper-plate-etchers and many fewer episodes of CSI Miami.
16.2: That seems optimistic about human nature. Kittens come in sets of many more than two. If there were a half dozen, that might be more plausible.
Hope everybody feels better for the holidays and after.
Ack, Al, what a mess. I'm sorry about your crappy back and also agree about re-writing the horrific kitten story.
also agree about re-writing the horrific kitten story.
How about those kittens would have grown up to be Hitler?
Also Jesus Christ, Joe Strummer died 10 FUCKING YEARS AGO today! Where did the time go?
Except a good Hitler that wages genocide on kitten-murderers.
Ugh. Very inhumane all round.
I was out walking this morning in the rain before sunrise. I passed a woman going the other way without umbrella or raincoat, looking miserable, loudly singing praises to Jesus, along with what I think was "no food to eat." She didn't ask me for anything, but we made eye contact, and as soon as I was past her I wished I'd offered.
I really need to get serious about going vegan. The kitten story was too horrible.
I am glad alameida is well enough to type. And I'm glad all of the rest of you are still alive and kicking too. And I'm glad read had some good advice to share. And I'm glad will loves his daughter so much. And I'm glad that chris y is thinking about Joe Strummer.
This is also kind of sad, except that the radical prisoners get a lot of mail. I wish the regular prisoners did too.
I really need to get serious about going vegan. The kitten story was too horrible.
I think there are non-vegan diets that don't include the consumption of kittens.
Feel better, Al. I hope the coming year is kinder to you than the last one was.
As long as the kittens are humanely slaughtered, I don't see why they shouldn't be part of a balanced diet.
So you believe in letting perfectly good meat go to waste just because the kitten ran under your tire?
There's not a lot of meat on a kitten.
Once you get past 40, you need to watch portion size carefully.
Kittens on large scale farms are often selected for breasts so large they tip over when they try to stand up. The notorious Kitty Titties of Tyson are quite inhumane, actually.
30 gets it exactly right. You have to make tiny little veal pens and fatten them up a whole bunch to make it remotely worth your time.
I just feel like feloie gras is fundamentally mean.
I can't even look at a grown cat without gaining weight.
"A kitty on the lips, forever on the hips."
"No cat tastes as good as thin feels."
Some people are just dog people.
Like on Egyptian tomb walls.
That is really cute.
on reflection, I'm feeling excessively sorry for myself here. I mean, poor me [rolls eyes]. it was unbecoming; but, if I took every unbecoming entry I've posted off this blog a lot of worthwhile comments would go missing. thanks for the suggestions, read, and the general well-wishes, all and sundry. it's just that stabbing, ice-pick into the eyeballs pain is so isolating and miserable. even the people near you who want to help you can't reach you. even when they hook you up with the oxy it doesn't help; nothing until they give you a fucking morphine infusion port that you control, and that seems unwise as well as impossible. and unlike with lower levels of pain, there is nowhere deeper within yourself to retreat. the pain goes all the way down
but hey, at least nobody I love is in the baltimore city lockup on a bullshit heroin possession thing, right? remember that? bullshit insofar as I think people should be able to possess a littleheroin, and plus the dickhead boyfriend dumped his stash on her and told the cop it was all hers. I remember in the post I was all "fuck the police" and quite a number of ogged's earnest followers from the instapundit or something were giving me shit about not blaming the person who was obviously guilty of a crime. lolwhut.
the kitten thing sucked for real though. two kittens surviving to the two-month period is a not at all uncommon litter size for narnia's feral cats, of whom there are many (it is a harsh environment and most succumb to disease). it does seem quite possible the person thought they would die instantly. and there is a canteen/mini hawker-centre on the top floor; I can imagine that it produces enough scraps to feed a certain number of strays but no more. a lot of narnians even in their 60s grew up in a village with chickens running around underfoot and front yards made of bare earth you would sweep each day with a broom of slender sticks. they may have a different attitude towards reducing excess cat populations. I have given it some thought (obviously, it freaked me the fuck out), and it is possible that it was a 70-year-old narnian man of humble means rather than a chubby 14-year-old taking a break from paper mario to get herod-style on some innocents.
Very seasonal reference for slaughtering.
Far from Narnia, in an icy storm, a little pregnant stray cat scratched on a stranger's door. She was let in, and within hours, she had given birth to four tiny tubes of squealing fur. She, and they, are warm, well-fed, and pretty darned happy. The father (another stray) comes by and visits, although despite his otherwise sunny demeanor, he is supremely uninterested in her and the kittens (bastard!-- she LOVES him intensely!). All four-footed parties concerned are un-housebroken, which makes the kindly stranger sigh a little bit, but other than that, it's a pretty good pre-Christmas story, and certainly is warmer and happier than the story which accompanies this post. It's a tough world for a little cat to get a break in, but it's not impossible. Merry Xmas, y'all, from me and the cats. Myow.
also, I hope you feel better soon emir, and that your various problems subside.
as to the fine husband and wonderful children, I do feel that I got lucky in a way. not that I had a problem with finding people who wanted to marry me, exactly. it's just that I had a pretty good 6-8 year window in which I had kicked the junk and my drinking was not out of control (indeed for a good while I didn't drink at all, because of liver problems.) during that time I married a kind, sane, thoughtful person who is not an alcoholic or drug addict and treats me with love and respect. and I also had two babies (completely losing it after the birth of baby two, but, hey.) I could easily imagine it having gone many other, way worse ways, and I could even now be living at my mom's house with my sister. I adore them, so that would be nice, but I'd be nuts. or I could be married to a handsome, abusive alcoholic! the chance totally presented itself! there are seriously like ten million of them around. so I'm very grateful and feel fortunate that I got it together at a crucial stage.
yay to stinkwrinkle rescuing kittehs! IME strays will housetrain themselves pretty fast (not the baby babies, yet) given an obvious "pee and poop here!" location. like maybe a litter box with a neon sign.
It sounds like you are perfectly entitled to feel sorry for yourself! If you find it more helpful to put that aside then well and good. There's a false guilt though that's easy to wrongly accept when you just can't do stuff (say, for your visitors) as if you were somehow malingering when you're not.
I suffer from over-hostess syndrome on the best of occasions, so it's very hard for me to just say: "there's some smoked salmon in the fridge and capers etc." and in any case that would only be for light lunches in which everything possible really was available, or today, sunday, when my motherfucking live-in maid is not at work. because otherwise I have a fucking cook so what the fuck am I worried about? she is not as good a cook as I am (and surely I would be resentful if she were, right?) but I have taught her to make many fine dishes and she has improved greatly. I get my groceries delivered.
serious hostessing problem of the moment: we ate the whole crate of philippine mangoes. solution: tomorrow my maid will take money and go buy more. and also fresh flowers. that I just spent an hour composing a centrepiece consisting of: one of those tang dynasty clay horses, but with adorable gold tinsel star stuff, old trophies from my granddad's filled with 'white rabbit' candies, fir branches, and fake butterflies made of painted feathers is entirely my own problem. so cute though! it's all multicultural and stuff! ermahgerd! berst chresmus erver! if I didn't have to injure myself slowly and purposefully with sharp objects or ah...stress positions...from time to time to endure the headaches I would be a completely insufferable person; as it is I'm only mostly insufferable.