Saturday, December 23, 2006

What's Worse, the Stomach Flu or Dial-up? Or both at once?

One of the differences between New York City and suburban Detroit is that people are not piled all up on top of each other, sharing their wireless service like tuberculosis. That means that not only am I attempting to update my blog from a machine that is not my pet Sparky the MacBook, but I am doing so from my Mother's "computer," using dial-up, via America Online which apparently still exists. I tried to sign on under my old screen name 'R Pop Tart' but I forgot the password. I can't remember who I had a crush on then.

"This might be more blog-worthy than Greyhound"
-Carl, after my 45th trip to the bathroom to wretch up my intestines, followed by chills, hot/cold flashes, and other symptoms that I am fairly sure are related to either SARS, anthrax, the West Nile Virus or Meningitis.

Thus, I am actually NOT in Ohio.

I am in my sweatpants, eating cup-o-soup, and I've spent the entire day in various poses of misery. Maybe Jesus is punishing me for coveting Emmit Honeycutt. I've been told that Christmas cookies aren't going to be good for my stomach but I can't help myself. Also I felt that perhaps around 2pm I was completely out of body fat and I felt very cold. So I'm trying to bring sexy back, via sugar cookies, which so far are going down better than the two sips of water I dared to ingest 12 hours ago.

But really how could I feel wretched sitting at this lovely desk.

To my right we have a variety of social-work and psychological therapy type literature, such as "choices & consequences," "paths to recovery" and "facing the shadow." Also I see a back-issue stockpile of Real Simple magazine and seven single-serving sized packets of McDonalds grape jam. Yes that's right, grape jam. I also find this a bit perplexing, though perhaps it is somehow related to the 'Anatomy Coloring Book,' which I am too weak to retrieve. There is a box labeled 'Faith.' Again, my weak limbs are overruling my perverse curiosity in this particular matter.

In front of me is a stunning photograph of Lewis and I dressed like monks or something in a sadistic Disneyworld photo shoot re-creation of Fanastia. I have a bucket in my hands like Little Red Riding Hood and Lewis has a wand. There's also a photo Alina and I took with the Mall Santa Claus, circa high school I think. Both of thse photos are very romantic and employ pleasent cultural figures (Mickey Mouse, Santa Claus), which is nice, right? (who am I? where am i? my head hurts. my stomach hurts. Haaavvvilanndddd) Also there are some motivaitonal greeting cards that claim the brightest light you can hope to see is the one I give to you when I smile. Also May success wash over me with everything I do, etc.

To my left we have "Robert's Rules of Lesbian Living," which include:
-Life is a process. Lesbian life is the process of processing the process.
-It is not against any written lesbian law to wear panty hose. They just seem silly under your softball uniform.

Either I am freezing or dying.

The true Christmas miracle is that Carl was a sweetheart the whole time I was sick although he missed the great chance to drive me to Ohio this morning as I was unable to walk or move. And although his car did not have heat, it was not particularly unpleasent as we drove from my Mom's place to his place, and the no-shock thing was kinda like riding a really dangerous roller coaster.

They don't get "The N," which means I don't know what happened with Spashley tonight. The agony, the absolute agony!

No photos. You have no clue how long it took just to load the 'create a post' page.

I've decided that when I get married, i want krista and natalie and haviland and ingrid to be my bridesmaids and I want Lewis to be my ring bearer and I want him to wear a monkey suit. I think that would be really funny. You know, a monkey at a wedding?


dear dear chicago said...

boooo to stomach viruses. i hope you feel better soon. but think of it this way... at least you got to skip out on the gross ohio rest stops and the near death experience that is cinncinati.

Anonymous said...

I'm pretty sure my mother has the anatomy coloring book. I'm pretty sure I vividly remember seeing it on our bookshelf. She also has a bunch of books like, one, I beleive, "Finding The Lesbians," and a bunch of others like that, and then there's "Emotional Vampires" and "I'm OK You're My Parents" and a bunch of others about manipulative personalities.

As far as dial-up goes, my mom has dial-up - not AOL, thankfully, but a little local company called GCI, that, the last time I checked anyway, told funny jokes about alaskan white trash in place of hold music when you called in, and gives us dial-up free since they're our long distance carrier.

haviland said...

Wow. Some people still have LAND LINES. seriously...1997 was maybe the last time i had that? awesome.

I heart you, Riese. Get your arse back to NY!

LN James said...

And if you must know what happened with Spashley, then the flu you've got has you perfectly prepared for the shit that was on the screen. Here's some advice: enjoy your blissful ignorance for as long as you can. Trust me, it's better that way.

marie lyn bernard said...

jenna: i am fully recovered! and in dublin, ohio. or grove city? i'm honestly not sure. all i know is i have wireless, and even if it's only one bar, that's all i need. it's the closest thing to Christ I can think of.

rachel:I LOLed at your mother's book titles. The thing is, I wonder why the Anatomy Coloring Book is with all these therapy books and not with like, the kids books? I wonder whats going on in there. Besides anatomy.

hav: wanna know something funny? WE HAVE A LAND LINE. but every time maggie calls to get rid of it, they just frustrate her beyond belief. we totally pay a verizon bill every month for a phone that in fact does not work.

ln james: omg, i'm like, really scared now! (fo' real). if it's related to ashley and aiden, i might just scream. it is, isn't it? oh god. i saw the preview, but they edit their previews manipulatively so i was like, ok, this doesnt necessarily mean anything. maybe. fuck. fuck fuck fuck!!

Carl said...

I missed the opportunity to comment first.

However the puke on my shirt will be a always present reminder of our Christmas together. And by ever present reminder I mean I threw it and the throw-up-trashcan away the moment you left.

We can always party for Kwanzaa...

Lewis said...

Can I keep the monkey suit?

marie lyn bernard said...

yes lewis, yes you can.