Comic Books, Drag Race, & Life in New Zealand
by krisis
Ahh! Time home with my mom puts everything else in this freaky unrealistic perspective because home is so easy and simple and it makes all my problems look instantly solvable and resolvable. Or, maybe that’s just because i make them out that way to my mother. Rehearsal in two hours … hopefully i won’t die on stage tonight…
by krisis
Nearly a week passes with nary a word from my fingertips, and i’d hope you’d be worried about me. I mean … when i flew to Florida for four days i nearly cried when i last closed down my Blogger screen, and here i am flitting around Philadelphia with hardly a regret? Well, it didn’t work out quite that way… although that was the net effect, wasn’t it?
Last Thursday i was sick. I was totally fine on Wednesday, and on Thursday i was sick. Actually, i’ve been sick for about as long as i’ve been dating my girlfriend, on and off. (That’s sick on and off, not dating on and off). Last Thursday was awful, though. I slept on a tiny green room couch for hours, i dragged my feet through my acting class, and i slept through much of my rehearsal until finally it was my turn to rehearse. Thankfully, my director Bill drove me home, as while i spent the whole day sleeping in the theatre several inches of snow accumulated.
Friday was more uneventful, though i did lose my voice in my first class (that was rather unexpected). The eventful bit was having a largish fight with my darling girlfriend, in which i was a big meanie the whole time because i was convinced that i was supposed to break up with her. It’s funny how in a situation like that my spine is the last thing to come into play; i told Matt i was going to break up with her, i steeled myself against easy reconciliation, and i tried to burn bridges before they could be recrossed. So much for that. All we wound up with was a really hurtful fight that will always be a mark against me. Good job, Peter.
Perhaps as a result of the intense back and forth on Friday (or perhaps it had to do with the small amount of vodka i consumed that night), i was sick on Saturday. Very very sick. Every time i would fall asleep i’d wake up two hours later having soaked through my clothing and the sheets in sweat. My temperature kept spiking and falling, with each spike bringing on a spectacular headache and on the way up or down from it a tremendous amount of sweating or chills. What a spectacular way to spend a Saturday.
By Sunday my body was out of ideas of what to do with itself. Unbeknownst to me, i was completely dehydrated (which was indicated by the fact that i couldn’t muster the nerve to touch solid foods like crackers or granola bars), and running a 102degree temperature. Somehow i crawled my way to rehearsal (a grueling journey for someone in the shape i was in), but once i got there i was a total wreck. I’ve done full dress rehearsals with high fevers before, but i was sweating and shaking and in no shape to sing or do anything else. Plus, there was the coughing. It hadn’t seemed like the central element of my sickness the night before, but it felt pretty damned central at that point.
My director Bill (aka: Guardian Angel) told me that he wanted me to go to an emergency room and come back healthy Monday or Tuesday, so into the scene came Mother. Mother picked me up, carted me to her emergency room, where i had lots of blood taken from me in addition to a trip to x-ray (they wheeled my bed there… wheeled it!). And, the pinnacle of fun and enjoyment was when i was given an IV and hydrated with two litres of saline. I came home that night in better shape that i had been in, and in the possession of Robotussin with Codeine. Yeah.
The capper was yesterday – the day i had earmarked for “catching up on my soap operas and blogging like a whore.” And that didn’t happen, because i was back in the ER, because my chest films showed i had pneumonia! Whee! This time my ER visit earned me my very own room, lots of wonderful breathing treatments, two more litres of hydration, a hospital issue turkey sandwich, and lots of warm blankets.
So, erm, yeah. That’s my excuse. I’ll shut up about my life now. Just wanted you to know that, um, i’ve alive. Which had been in doubt by some people lately. Love ya!
by krisis
You really know your brand name is totally proliferated when any similar product is referred to by the general populace by your trademark. For instance, on my last day at the coffee shop my co-worker Sara asked me for the Windex. Now, we’ve never had Windex for the entirety of my time there, and we didn’t have it that day either. What we did have was bluish-green glass and surface cleanser in a squirt bottle, which basically equates to Windex. I got it for her without missing a beat, and didn’t even think about it until later.
My personal favourite example of this phenomenon is in tampons. When i was growing up the only brand of tampons ever to be seen in my house were Tampax tampons, and to this day i honestly don’t know that i could name any other brands. In conversation, i refer to singular “tampon” as “tampon,” and small groups of “tampons” as “tampons,” but any significant grouping or package of tampons is referred to as Tampax – because that’s the only way i ever knew them growing up.
Wow… now there’s a story about condoms and about tampons on the main page at the same time. Search engines are gonna love me….
by krisis
Time – Evening of Valentine’s Day. Setting – South Street shopping district. Characters – Peter and his mother.
Mom – Oh! What’s this store? It looks cool!
Peter – That’s Condom Kingdom, Mom. [averts eyes, continues walking]
Mom – What?
Peter – Condom Kingdom. Don’t you see the little sperm painted on the sidewalk?
Mom – Oh! That’s what those are. Let’s go in!
Peter – I don’t want to, Mom; i go in there all of the time.
Mom – Oh, good, just what i wanted to hear.
Peter – No, i mean, … i meant… i mean… my friends are always dragging me in there. [averts eyes again, crosses the street] They have some interesting stuff; did you see the penis pasta in the window.
Mom – Well, we could stop in on our way back.
Peter – Oh, sure, just how i want to spend Valentine’s day: shopping for contraceptives with my mother.
Mom – Point taken.
[they continue walking away and incessantly chattering]
I’d like to add that while i am able to actively talk about condoms and penises with my mother in the middle of the street, i find myself physically unable to tell her about my girlfriend. The closest i came was mentioning her name and then replying to my mother’s query about her: “Oh, it’s a long story. She’s a very nice girl, though.”
by krisis
Whee! Home eating chicken soup and listening to good music with my mom! If this doesn’t make me feel better i can’t imagine what would work. And her computer is even performing competently! It’s even managed to load SurvivorBlog2, where i posted a ton this morning. Did you know i have the longest average post length by nearly 10 words per post? Yep… i antagonize them with my neverending stream of consciousness too, it’s not just you who has to sit through it. :p