Thursday, June 30, 2005
I'm staying at my friend and ex-co-worker, Jason's place for a few days and watching his two cats. Bella (pictured) may or may not have diabetes.
Wednesday, June 29, 2005
I'm still not allowed to do any heavy lifting, but I had to be out of the house today, so a bunch of friends did all of my moving for me. The truck was mostly for my giant bed (The Story of the Giant Bed will have to wait), which Josh and Andrea will be transporting for me when they move to Chicago later this summer.
I didn't want to move back to Arizona in the first place, but I will miss this little house. It made me feel like an adult.
Tuesday, June 28, 2005
N came over for the last time before the move (me tomorrow, her Thursday). She wanted to see my stomach. She cried a little and kissed each of my four scars, where the instruments went in.
Over the past several years I've felt self-conscious about my ever-expanding waistline ("Trouser/Waist 36" isn't even accurate anymore). But N would always say that she loved my stomach, the size of it. It seemed like the center of her affection for me. She would stroke it and kiss it as if I were expecting.
Is it too on-the-nose to say that I feel wounded?
Monday, June 27, 2005
I'm still taking Vicodin for the stomach pain, but luckily I never needed to take these cold anti-nausea suppositories.
Sunday, June 26, 2005
I found this index card in the junk drawer. N had asked me to write out all my measurements for her several Christmases ago.
What this says about her: she's thoughtful and organized.
What this says about me: I'm gigantic and have the hand-writing of a child.
Saturday, June 25, 2005
Friday, June 24, 2005
I had my gall bladder removed today.
The doctor said, "You'll feel like you did a thousand sit-ups." So now I know what that's like.
Thursday, June 23, 2005
N came over today to talk a little and pack a few more of her things. We ordered chinese food and these are the fortunes that came in our fortune cookies.
N said she thought that they both had an underlying sense of optimism. I'm not so sure.
Mine is the one about failure.
Wednesday, June 22, 2005
Me. Hopefully the last time I'll have to weedwhack this yard.
The dangers of desert yardwork include:
1. 100 degree temperatures.
2. Cactus spines and the general prickliness of all southwestern vegatation.
3. A mostly unfounded fear of snakes and scorpions.
4. The seeming pointlessness of it all.
Tuesday, June 21, 2005
I returned from my trip to Chicago today. In my absence N has begun to move her stuff out. Most of the pictures have been taken off the walls.
Today would have been (is?) our six year anniversary.
