Feeling A Bit Crohnish

Ah, me. Not a terrible day, nothing like I was during that month this past winter that I always refer to as When I Was Sick (as if it's the only sickness I've ever experienced), but enough to take note of. That week of eating quinoa and beans for lunch did me in. And you know, when I write it out like that, I want to say "Quinoa and beans? How stupid actually am I?" Ah, me.

Earlier today, the empress wrote a bit about the upcoming election and reminding us that we are all friends here. I think it was a good thing to write, probably especially for me, since I tend to go off on political rants (although never politically on a diary buddy that I can recall.) Anyway, despite my reputation at work as the screaming liberal on the staff -- and I was sure surprised when I found that out a couple of years ago, as in Who, me? -- I don't see myself ranting much in the months to come. Unlike a variety of candidates in the past, I don't have any problems with John McCain that would bring me to rant level. I don't agree with him on several things, but that's part of the process; otherwise, I don't dislike him and I'm not repulsed by him in any way (see 1968 Richard Nixon for that). No problems unless, as I've said, he picks Huckabee or a Huckabee clone as his running mate. So now we each pick our candidate and life goes on, and we can all get along.

There's a heat wave, a tropical heat wave, sweeping by us here. It's about 6.30 pm now and 98 degrees. It's going to stay with us through Wednesday, we hear. I've already been told that for one reason or another, the library's computer lab, where the temperature is a constant balmy 60, maybe, is being commandeered for use by a boy who must have air conditioning for a medical condition -- don't ask -- and they don't think the room air conditioners in his classrooms can meet the need, so all of us classes are being re-routed to us for the first few days of the coming week. I must say, that's a new one on me.

I got a call this morning from the SIL inviting us to a barbecue next Sunday, which is Father's Day, the day after her son's birthday, and also a celebration of his recent college graduation. Boy, you'd think after all this time she'd know that her brother and I are recluses, not to mention it's Father's Day for him, too, and maybe he'd rather not spend it with her goofy in-laws. Anyway, it's his family so it's his decision. The girls want to go if their grandparents are coming up for it, and I can't blame them for that. Having lost my parents, they are very keenly aware that every moment they spend with their other grandparents is a gift. They will pretty much go anywhere or do anything for them because, as each of them has said, what wouldn't they give to be able to spend an hour with Jack or Shirl? Sometimes they're very good kids.

And there I am. I starting reading something by David Sedaris the other day; I don't know how I managed to miss him so far. It's like reading my own writing, if I had been raised as a gay boy in a family of sisters in the south. Must try to get my hands on Me Talk Pretty One Day, which I think is his first and best known one.

And there you have me. I bought no make-up. I have finished my Chinese food, and frozen yogurt awaits.


WATCHING Y9OUNG FRANKENSTEIN :: ENTRY #1774