Bittersweetheart

I've watched this video about 11 times today. I don't know what exactly it is about it, but every single time I watch it I smile head off. So fun.

As you may remember I am sick. I have a cold. At least I'm about 99% sure that it's nothing more than your garden-variety, run of the mill common cold -- you know cough, low-lying malaise, and all the good mucus that comes with the cold. I don't have a fever or sore throat or anything else like that.

What I have is a cough. A pretty steady, annoying cough. My cough is legendary. It frightens small children and woodland creatures. When I cough it comes from my pelvis and sounds like I'm trying to expel the barking dogs of hell from my lungs. It is loud and deep and sounds painful. Hell, it is painful.

But it's just a cold, even if it sounds like death.

So on Wednesday night, I'm sitting in class coughing. Once my teacher arrived he made a crack about how he was so happy to see a few of us (four of us were in class already yapping) because so many people had called in sick. I told him, between gasps, that I was pondering going home too. "No," he said, bugging his eyes. "You have to say or they're be nobody here to talk."

I stayed.

About two minutes into class, one of my classmates pulls on a mask. "That's because of you," The Comedian who makes me want to punch people in the throat said.
"I just really can't get sick," Mask said. "I mean, really can't. It would be catastrophic."

I was stunned. I didn't know what to do besides sit there awkwardly and blush. Part of me thought I should leave. I don't want to cause a catastrophe. Part of me thought she should leave. If you're that worried about getting sick what are you doing mixing with the general, unclean public? Besides, I'm pretty sure that I picked up this cold from The Loft since everyone else I know is healthy.

What would you have done? 

I've manage to catch some sort of plague-like infection and it's totally put a damper on my weekend. What I had intended to be a weekend filled with working on short story has turned into nothing but whining and coughing and sleeping and sobbing.

In general, I'm kind of a crybaby. Even on my very best days. When I get sick, I'm leveled. I sobbed through a "Roseanne" marathon this morning, and because that wasn't quite enough I decided to watch the original "V" I TIVO'd last weekend, and cried through a lot of that too. "The Amazing Race" too.

I didn't cry during "The Maltese Falcon" though, perhaps that's progress.

Read a fucking book, you're probably thinking. I thought that too, but the pressure and burning in my eyes made reading nearly impossible. In fact, I tried and gave up because it just wasn't working for me. Some people are really good at working through the sickness. I'm not one of those people. My brain doesn't function well when I have a cold. It just feels slower and filled with mud. I try to think, but fail miserable. I don't get jokes and barely understand what people are saying to me. It's not good. Really, all I'm capable of is laying around being generally unhappy and whining about how much being sick sucks.

It does suck. I'm going to bed.

I have to leave soon to bring my ailing Ruby to Ben's to see if he can't figure out what is wrong with her. But before I go, I had to wish a heartfelt congratulations to Dabysan and CarrieNation, who are getting married today. 

I think I only read three books in all of October. That's damn near shameful. I will, however, blame my writing class on this. Where usually we read a majority of 12-18ish page short stories, this time around we're being bombarded by 6,000 word 28-page novel beginnings. It's been hell. Not just the sheer amount of words to read, but only a few of the novel chapters have been worth my time. In fact, one novel start was so offensive that the class was actually angry. Of course the complete lack of punctuation didn't help matters. It just goes to show you, domestic violence is not an issue you can make funny, right up there with rape, child molestation, and genocide. None of these things are funny. Let it be known.

On with the show.

BOOK ACQUIRED
Swimming Inside the Sun by David Zweig
Chronic City by Jonathan Lethem
Totally Killer by Greg Olear
Last Night in Twisted River by John Irving

BOOKS READ
Await Your Reply by Dan Chaon: This novel about identity, identity theft, the Internet, brotherhood, and more is probably going to make my top 10 best books of 2009 -- will blow your mind.

American Born Chinese by Gene Luen Yang: Even with an ending that comes off as a little convenient and coincidental, this graphic novel about growing up Chinese in America weaves together three different stories in a way that is sweet and funny.

Andromeda Klein by Frank Portman: A slightly disappointing novel by the author of the the fan-fucking-tastic King Dork is about a skinny weird girl obsessed with the occult and has a tendency to be a bit boring under the weight of all the magic research.

CURRENTLY READING
Every Boat Turns South by J.P. White
The Complete Essex County by Jeff Lemiere (which I actually finished today, but now it's November)
Last Night in Twisted River by John Irving

Here is my new favorite song:

"If we don't fight hard enough for the things we stand for, at some point we have to recognize that we don't really stand for them."
-- Senator Paul Wellstone

"I find it absolutely intolerable to think that a woman's home can be the most violent, most dangerous and oftentimes the most deadly place she can be."

Every Sunday evening, I spend hours refreshing my neighborhood page. It's all command + R over and over and over again at my house. Command + R.

Each time the page refreshes and I don't see an update from Daby, I imagine my eyes dance with delight, and I can feel a smirk on my face. With each passing hour, I can feel a sort of glow start to warm my heart.

And then, then when I'm absolutely sure that he and his coterie of ass-kissing minions have forgotten, there's an update.

My hopes dashed, my joyous heart diminished.

Woe is me.