Somewhere in grad school I came across the idea that when you're healthy, you have a body, but when you're sick, you ARE a body--you are reduced to and limited by the malfunctionings of your physical self. I haven't blogged much during the last two weeks because I have been busy being a body. I was going to provide details of the succession of dreadful ailments I've suffered from (a nasty cold, menstrual cramps, a really horrible allergic reaction, including hives and edema, to something I ate) but they're not interesting. Anyway, I feel better than I did, but still not good, and I have a backlog of duties to attend to, as all sorts of things besides blogging got neglected while I spent the better part of two weeks on my couch, napping fitfully or watching Buffy episodes I'd seen over and over and thus didn't have to think about. But I will try to post something substantial before the end of the week.
March 2009 Archives
Watch it and try to keep your jaw from dropping.
You've got to check out this slideshow of very weird theme restaurants in Taipei.
I'd comment on the photos in some way, but the fact of the matter is, I'm speechless.
Remember back in October when I discussed this crappy part-time temp job I'd taken, the one with the job title "obsessing about the election"? Well, I've got another crappy part-time job, though I'm afraid this one won't be a temp job. And it's called "reading all the memos documenting our trip to hell in a handcart." We're going to hell in a handcart rather than a hand basket or handbag or clutch purse or because we're trying to take as much stuff with us as possible. But it's still where we're going.
Most of the memos can be summarized in two words: We're fucked.
Not quite sure why I'm doing this to myself.... As I've mentioned elsewhere, my presence of Facebook has reached a sort of critical mass, where people from my distant past are finding and being found by me. It's sometimes cool, sometimes weird, sometimes stressful, sometimes surprising.
I spent much of Thursday, for instance, having a really great conversation with someone from high school whom I sat across from in history my junior year, liked well enough, but didn't really know all that well. She added me as a friend and sent me a message about our 30-year reunion--scheduled for July 2011--and then we exchanged a few more very interesting messages, and it was really great, and made me glad I'm on Facebook.
The chat function, though, makes me nuts. People keep trying to get me to chat via Facebook's chat function, which I can't figure out how to disable. I don't chat online. On principle I don't use any form of online chat. You want me to communicate with you, take the time to compose a message that I can answer on my own time, and don't expect me to wait while you're typing. The only time I have violated that rule is when someone asked me a quick, specific question that needed a quick, specific answer and didn't need a full email thread.
Anyway, the chat rant was a sidetrack--the real point of this entry is a meme I found on the page of another old schoolmate. (Schoolmate! I don't know that I've ever used that word in a sentence about myself.) I read this meme and was mildly astonished to realize there are people in the world who think about high school in a sustained way--I mean, someone actually came up with all these questions about high school!
High school for me was like lunch on a road trip: this not especially memorable thing you have to stop and deal with while you're on your way to someplace better. You try to make the best of it and hope it's not awful, but you know better than to hope it will actually be great. And chances are, unless you end up spending more time in the bathroom (or the hospital, or the therapist's office) dealing with some dreadful aftermath than you spent on the original experience, the details of it soon become fuzzy as you focus on something more important. In fact, a few hours later, all you're left with is some mild nausea and one more reason to stash a few packets of Alka-Seltzer in your glove compartment.
So why am I actually answering the questions on this meme? Actually confronting these things is the Alka-Seltzer, the weird fizzy thing that will settle what has been ruffled and roiled. Also, I don't know, what the hell. I had extensive dental work this morning and am feeling sort of cranky, and this seems like a good way to let the crankiness out. I just am answering the questions. So there.