Saturday, May 31, 2003

I had to go to the ER last night. No big deal, just some symptoms that looked like a new bloodclot but it's all good, just crap that will get worse and worse over time until I kick off for the next plane.

So anyway, I hear this very firm voice talking to the triage nurse while I'm suffering through a couple of unsuccessful blood draws. Guy says he's the patient's father. He's there because the kid was drinking blood out of some kind of medical vial while he was at school.

This captures my attention right away. I ask the phlebotomist, how old is the kid over there, she says she can't tell. I want to know is he like two or what? So the dad's still talking. The kid said he had found the medical vial (still not clear on what that meant) and had filled it with blood from a nose bleed the day before. And the kid drank it on a dare.

Dad is worried whether the kid drank healthy blood or unclean blood. Now I hear the kid and he says that he wants to be a vampire. Then I see them as they come over to be weighed. It's a military father with a gazillion medals and a kid in his early teens. They weigh the kid and he weighs 160 lbs. He is quick to point out that his pants weigh four pounds.

For some reason this obsession about weight bothered me as much, although didn't make me gag, as the blood drinking. I badly wanted to follow this family and find out what the story was. But I didn't. I was a good patient. Damn it.

Wednesday, May 28, 2003

I used to live in this community called Whispering Woods. It would send out this retarded newsletter now and again. I remember one that was just seeped in prejudice before it went out.

It said that if we saw any teenagers standing around to call 911. Now can you imagine saying that about senior citizens? If you see anyone over 65 standing around in groups call 911.

I hate the way our society is so anti-youth. I think it comes from jealousy.

Not remembering what a wretched time adolescence was for most of us, these schmoes who work and sleep and watch tv and just are lumpy whatevers with no goals in life think that being a teenager is all fun and no troubles and want that for themselves. Not being able to attain it they strike out against those they wish to emulate.

Skateboarding is not a crime. Unless you're near a mall. Or a suburb. Or a city. Okay, wait, maybe it is a crime. Then I want to do my time. It's my duty. Arrest me now.

I have no purpose left in life. I saw a cell phone commercial featuring Blitzkreig Bop. Punk is about anarchy not selling cell phones! Life as I know it is over. Goodbye cruel world.

Monday, May 26, 2003

I had the strangest dreams last night. Very influenced by Neil's American Gods. I have a lot of sort of James Bondian dreams anyway so this one was really only odd because of the characters. Morpheus from Sandman was my guide and he had a smile to die for.

Czernabog and Bernabog both flirted with me and asked me out. I was supposed to be helping Thor against Odin so I had to do something before Wednesday and surely before Thursday. It involved trying to catch Loki while skiing - mind you I've never skied in my life and I'm not even sure I'm spelling it correctly.

So I had to ski and add up the numbers on the back of the skiers parkas or whatever they wear to get the right number and ski into the right guy. It was freaking strange. But interesting. And this Icelandic God asked me out also. Spending the night with Dream and all these Gods asking me out. Strange indeed.

Thursday, May 22, 2003

I've got this awful fear that my meningitis has caused some sort of brain side effects. I have a terrible time remembering simple words. It took me half an hour yesterday to remember the word regret. That's not a hard word!

As a writer I think I will have a huge problem if this doesn't clear up.

Sunday, May 18, 2003

And many happy returns of the day to Cameron who turns eleven today.

Right, so I've just been over reading Neil's blog, no surprise there and his entry reminded me of my grand and glorious plan to make scads of money.

I plan to bottle hunger. They say it's the best sauce, so it should sell well. I'll just grab it from passing supermodels and other people who wander about afraid to eat anything.

I think it's a splendid notion.

Tuesday, May 13, 2003

So long and thanks for everything. I'll be watching for you nonetheless.

Monday, May 12, 2003

I badly want to say I caught my meningitis from reading Neil Gaiman's journal. Without his express permission sounds even cooler.

Saturday, May 10, 2003

Poor neglected blog.

I hadn't actually had flu, no matter how hard I tried to convince myself. I ended up with a fever of 104.2, five days in hospital and a diagnosis of meningitis.

So there you are, sometimes when you really feel sick and awful there's a reason for it.

I've been thinking about a script for years now, called The Trek but I could never figure out quite how to do it. This morning I suddenly had the framework I need. So that's The Trek, The Vampyre Strikes Back, Angels in Black Suits, Carnal Fear, my blog, my weekly column for Benn and my "monthly" column for NMN. And that's just the bits I'm working on right now, not all the half finished bits or ideas for things.

It's not even counting my John Cusack thing I want so badly to write, working title, The Fragmented Woman. OI!