You know, I was gonna say weird, but...it's not weird. I mean, I still hate Nick Remmick for mentioning a cat incident in one of his books (Lenin's Tomb, I think. Non-fiction.) But once something is a something real to you, somehow portrayals of a similar something take on new import and new buttons of various depths. Not surprising. And yet, it is still surprising. I was reading a National Geographic the other day, and now it haunts me. It wasn't cats. Well, it was, but it wasn't about the cat. It was about a
wee baby baboon the young leopard mothered and...
it keeps creeping into my head.
It's weird, but not.
ita, that's a childhood classic. Diversionary tactic.
sara, I'm still freaked by the world's tallest man putting his arm in a dolphin to save it.
that's a childhood classic. Diversionary tactic.
I think the last time my mother hit me was when I approached my father much later, still marked, and just said that she'd hit me hours ago.
It was true--I didn't lie about the time frame. But my eyes were full enough of tears that my father didn't pause for a second to remember exactly how delicate my skin was (I was careful to not let them know about my tolerance for pain) and instead went with my unspoken implication that she must have smacked the shit out of me.
The other few times it was a semantic game and I got off clean.
Okay, typing is hurting too much.
What are the odds I can get to the ER for good drugs and still make it to work tomorrow at 7:30? Because that's the best of both possible worlds.
If you go now it might be possible. do you need a ride? I can be there in 20 minutes.
No offense and much thanks for the offer, Kat, but I am not going to be in any way responsible for you stepping foot in a hospital. Not now.
What I am going to do is try deep breathing, biofeedback, and a sleep mask.
sara, I'm still freaked by the world's tallest man putting his arm in a dolphin to save it.
Um, don't read my whitefont.
ita, hope you get some improvement fast and tidily!
I'm terribly something when it comes to critters. It can be embarassing. When I needed a good cry for whatever reason I had a book about a 3 legged cat and another about a hedgehog and another about a raccoon that would basically render me incapacited by saltwater. And yet, I've been the efficient triager of critters. I'm getting more so about kids (uh, freaked out, not triager,) but the fact I completely freak out over a hedgehog still is odd. I guess it is necessary distance, one that is closing as I acquire more kids into my family. I wonder if it is a function of survival that you start with a distance and then by familiarity, lose it.
too late. whitefont read.
ita, I'm oddly comfortable in hospitals. Offer still stands. I think I'll go vege in front of the TV. I have my cell if you change your mind.
enh. no worries, sara. It's what made me think of the dolphin. I blame lisah for that knowledge.
