The Spinning Planet

Vishnu

These are some very hard damn times. Motherfucking heinously goddamn hard times!

There’s Plague 45 and our stunningly stupid population’s self-destructive selfishness and blind allegiance to a ludicrously dimwitted, grotesquely avaricious and presumptuously vainglorious pedophile

If not for him, his horror-show renfields and cult following. I’d be able to go out to lunch, visit a museum, fly to Oregon for a holiday with my sweetie, Ten. Hells bells, I could go for walks without fear of catching a death dealing virus.

BUT NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

La Nuit,
the primordial goddess of the night

I miss having escapades. It feels as though it’s been eons since I’ve had even a minor one. The last time Jen and I went to Iceland, I was a mess. It was right before January’s bean surgery. The walk from our room to the lagoon alone was a mega challenge.

It seems like forever ago (but it’s just a few years) since I was bopping around downtown Dublin, looking for Cian McLoughlin’s paintings.

I haven’t been to see my cousin in Berlin in FAR too long and, fer fuck’s sake, I’ve STILL never been to London!

I NEED escapades! Some damn shenanigans too, goddammit!

Shenanigans might help me with this other little issue. All the stress seems to be causing a Donna diplomacy drain. OK…really? Truth? Maybe I’m just at risk of losing it.

The good thing about the vast majority of my convos is that they go down via text message, email or social media. I have the opportunity to stop myself from making impulsive coarse and/or crude comebacks to friends who’ve made ill considered comments. Yeah, instead of responding with “what the fuck? Are you high or what?!” Or “don’t be such a dim ass!” I can collect and order my thoughts and facts, edit out my knee-jerk jerkiness and respond calmly and intelligently. You know, like a sane, mature adult.

(I AM SO a sane and mature adult *stamps foot*)

Some friends might be just fine with a WTF reply BUT, in this time when the vast majority of us are tense as ALL fuck, it seems better all around, more effective (for having my points heard) and kind to NOT come back at someone (friend or not) with blazing guns.

Oh yeah, another piece of burdensome bullshit – in 48 hours I’ll be at MGH, sitting at the OR doors, kitted out in a lovely, backless hospital gown, impatiently, bitchily even, waiting for my valium with heavy duty anesthesia chaser.

Being sliced open and having every major muscle snipped, so’s the good cutter can snatch out a couple tumors DOES actually give me pause. I AM, now that I think on it, a teensy weensy bit nervous.

Ten’s been meeting with the Old Gods about all this and, yeah, they’ve got my back. I’ll be fine.

Cool, Cool River – Paul Simon