i decided that tonight, i would have a glass of wine. a nice shiraz cabernet. not a super-duper one like el karlo, connoiseur of vino, AKA would purchase perhaps, but a yummy aussie drink anyway. if nothing else, it will scare any possible free radicals roaming about in my body. hopefully, i scared them shitless already and they decided not to take up housekeeping in my body.

(btw, that was in no way, shape, or form a knock on my buddy karly-warly. he is like a pusher when it comes to wine, but he certainly inspires one to try new and exciting bottles. who loves ya, babe 😉

now, i think i will self-medicate with some chocolate.

who needs valium? i've got yummy hersheys and guittard 😉

but i can see it from here.

Bush to Be Sedated for Colonoscopy

yes, but how will we know the difference?

John Entwistle died yesterday.

we saw 3/4 of the who back in 1996 when they performed “quadrophenia.” prior to that, we saw roger daltrey, s t r a i n i n g to hit a “razor line” at wolf trap. i never saw them all with keith moon, as i only got to see my first concert in 1980 (still the very best show ever, Brooooooce on The River tour, with a close second seeing Bruce front row, center, thanks to a charity auction, in 1999), so this is as close as i ever got to seeing the entire group together. my friend leifer got me completely hooked on the who when i was in high school. i still remember his altar to pete (which also became an altar to elvis costello, but that's another story.)

quadrophenia is one of my most favorite LPs. (you can tell i'm old; i still insist on calling albums LPs or records.) only an idiot (like my freshman year roommate) could not understand and appreciate pete townshend's total alienation and utter emotional bankuptcy in the work. (and when said roommate went with me to see the flic, she wouldn't talk to me for two days afterwards. no great loss.) this album is one of the few albums i put on when i want a really good wallow. joni mitchell is good for depression, but quadrophenia? a stark portrait of someone who really, really feels alone. it makes me realize that i surely do have a lot, in spite of what i sometimes might think.

anyway, seeing quadrophenia live was a trip. they trucked in real-life alleged pedophile gary glitter to be uncle ernie (how's that for type-casting?) and billy idol to be cousin kevin. each kept trying to upstage the other, which made for amusing yet sometimes sad moments. john was always so dignified, even when ancient roger's voice would crack or when pete was, well, glum old pete. i am merely glad that townshend hasn't tried to disney-fy this one like he did to Tommy. i thought the broadway version of Tommy was a travesty. all clean and pink and devoid of the scary, unpleasant, and basically sounding like Muzak had bought it and covered most of the album.

let's see: the who has lost its drummer and bass player. the beatles have lost their lead guitar and rhythm guitar. maybe we can put roger and pete together with paul and ringo (well, maybe ringo's son, zak, as he can actually play the drums and has toured with the who before…) just a thought. the aging be-whos.

damn. i better have some coffee soon.

…just ask my daughter.

i was on the phone with a dear friend who also is a former boss of mine from eons ago. he was calling me back, and we were talking about my imminent visit to a surgeon. literally appropos of nothing, my BC, all of 3.5 years old, leans into the phone and says, “mommy, you're a doofus.”

i think my friend is still laughing, hours later.

BC told me that she learned that word from “Arthur.” i think BC is no longer watching “Arthur.” not until i regain my pride back 😉

public TV. what a bunch of fucking doofuses.

or is it doofi?

i hate that expression, or Oprah-ism, if you'd like. but it happened to me today. i always liked the song “A Case of You,” but i somehow never full grasped its meaning. today, i did. i won't go any further into how it hit me, but i will print the lyrics for anyone who is interested. tori amos does a nice cover, but nothing beats the original. it is funny, it is sad, it even mentions Canada. you can't beat that with a stick, eh?

A CASE OF YOU
Joni Mitchell

Just before our love got lost you said,
“I am as constant as a northern star.”
And I said, “Constantly in the darkness
Where's that at?
If you want me I'll be in the bar.”
On the back of a cartoon coaster
In the blue TV screen light
I drew a map of Canada
Oh Canada
With your face sketched on it twice
Oh, you're in my blood like holy wine
You taste so bitter and so sweet
Oh I could drink a case of you, darling
And I would still be on my feet
Oh I would still be on my feet

Oh I am a lonely painter
I live in a box of paints
I'm frightened by the devil
And I'm drawn to those ones that ain't afraid
I remember that time you told me, you said,
“Love is touching souls”
Surely you touched mine
'Cause part of you pours out of me
In these lines from time to time
Oh, you're in my blood like holy wine
You taste so bitter and so sweet
Oh I could drink a case of you, darling
Still, I'd be on my feet
I would still be on my feet

I met a woman
She had a mouth like yours
She knew your life
She knew your devils and your deeds
And she said,
“Go to him, stay with him if you can
But be prepared to bleed”
Oh but you are in my blood
You're my holy wine
You're so bitter, bitter and so sweet
Oh, I could drink a case of you, darling
Still I'd be on my feet
I would still be on my feet

a dear friend of mine from college has cheered me up a bit. (i transferred midway.) lemme tell you about her: her predilection for Kaboom cereal, for ironing everything in her wardrobe and then some, and her peppy, perky warm heart keeps us friends years later.

she has helped me put a good new spin on my current health woes. and i quote (and i hope you don't mind me posting this – i just think you are soooo on target!):

“Of course, you realize that doctors are big chickens and would rather not have to worry about things even when we are 99.99999% sure it's nothing.”

you are so right, my dear. doctors are chickens. i will make that my mantra for the next few days. actually, i think i will shorten it:

mantra: buck, buck, buck. 🙂

anyone who knows me well and for a long time would know that i generally write when i am in pain. when i was in high school, i wrote daily in a journal which, i imagine, i will one day pep up and use as fodder for a book. (high school chums: Live in Fear! LOL. yeah, right.) it really helped me, though, as i struggled watching my mom battle breast cancer when i was 15 and again when i was 18. a good friend of mine (at the time, anyway, but that's a whole other unfortunate story entirely) lost his mother to cancer around the time we were 16, and all of that rolled together made me very conscious of cancer, vigilance, and bravery.

now i have a lump.

i went to the gynecologist today to check on a lump i have. i have been watching it for awhile now, but i figured i should get it looked at. i expected to get a pat on the head, i suppose, one of those “oh, it's nothing” kind of visits. BC went with me, and i am glad she did. she kept my mind off of everything — when you have a child, it is hard to focus on yourself, even when everything seems pretty awful. “look,” she said to my dr., “we have sparkly sunscreen on!” indeed, i was going to save the stuff for our beach vacation, but what the hell — live dangerously — and put the kiddie sparkly sunscreen on. i had it on, too, and it was fun to be little again, even for a split second.

anyway, back to reality. the dr. was able to find the lump without my having to tell her where it was. that is not a good sign, in my book. on those rare times i have found a lump in the past, i have had to tell the doctor where it is after she has had a concerted amount of time fingering about. not this time. she found it and the mass next to it without any guess work. (let's tell her what prize she's won, johnny!) she said she could not really tell me what she thought it was and that i should see a specialist. for all she knows, it could be nothing, or they might need to biopsy it. yippee.

so now, i get to visit a surgeon up in friendship heights next week, armed with my mammograms.

i've noticed that when i am feeling wretched, i listen to an awful lot of joni mitchell. maybe i need to switch to something more cheery, like, uh, i dunno. like the buzz cocks.

i nearly did. i have been having pain in two teeth, and two weeks ago, the bloke told me to brush with this Prevident stuff to try and make them less sensitive. they are slightly less sensitive, but i swear i still have pain when i chew. he does not see any reason for a root canal, though, so we are just keeping an eye on things.

the dude didn't charge me. two weeks ago or today.

i love that guy. i brought him homemade brownies today. i am not making this up. (too bad the hershey kisses i put on them melted in the 113 degree heat of my car. yep, my volvo recorded its highest internal temp to date. amazing i didn't grill along inside it.)

meanwhile, i wanna lynch my dentist. i always had perfect teeth – well, nearly perfect, anyway – until the dude convinced me that i needed to replace my silver fillings with folgers coffee… or something like that. ever since i had my fillings replaced, my teeth have been completely fecked up.

::sigh:: how did i get to be this age?

quiz created by glitterevil

Which Cure single are you?