Vomit and diarrhea

Last night I dreamt that I was sick. I woke up at 3am and was. I spent the next half hour sitting on the toilet with explosive diarrhea, and vomiting into the wastebasket. Oh, did I mention I’m on my period too? ARGGGH. As I was sitting there barfing, with my godawful dirty hair (I was planning to wash it this morning) with vomit on my t-shirt sleeve, I thought about the poor paramedics and CSIs who’d show up if I died on the toilet like Elvis. They’d have to take pictures and samples and have to deal with the smells. I lived so that those people wouldn’t have to deal with it.
After my intestines/colon/whatever was finished churning and I was finished vomiting for the time being, I was so weak and tired I barely made it back to bed (I brought the wastebasket with me just in case.). With BP returning from a business trip this evening, thank God I had the bed to myself. I was freezing and shivering for awhile and piled on every spare blanket and throw. Then, I’d turn so hot and sticky, I’d throw them all on the floor.
I dreamed fitfully that I was at dinner with David Letterman and he was eating a steak and creamed spinach. The thought of food revolted me and I vomited in my purse.
I got up again at 6 and started the process all over. Nesta was whining to be let in so I filled her water and food dishes, let her in and went back to bed and slept until 11.
LP got up, saw what a shitty, matted, crusty mess I was and asked if he could help. I sent him to the little store a few blocks away for a Sprite and some Tums.
It’s now 3pm and I’m feeling better and just washed my hair. I put the bedclothes and my vomited t-shirt in the washer. LP went to Jordan’s house.
How do bulimics stand to vomit on purpose? It’s one of the worst things to go through.
I think Bert put a Brown People hex on me because he didn’t like the banana stand. Merry-puking-Christmas.

Since he asked . . .

A perfect gift for BertBananas. So your bananas don't bruise and turn brown.

Recruiting Donald Trump

His name calling of Rosie O'Donnell---"ugly" "unattractive" "loser" (why, she's a "gay looser"!!!!) "fat", etc . . .I was thinking he would fit right in on the BookShelf. Hell, he might even go on there incognito.
Maybe he was Wolfy, pining for Parker Posey.
Maybe he was Sassy pretending to be a professor.
C-c-c-could he be ILove??
Anyway, I think Trump's a turd, an unclassy (if that's a word) turd.
So he's going to sue Rosie. Ha. Truth's a defense to slander. Trump is a sleazy snake oil salesman.
Have you seen the ads for The Apprentice? It's in Los Angeles this time. Stupid. Trump's associated with New York and he's bailing. Plus, no Carolyn--Ivanka's taking her place. I won't watch it and I hope it tanks.

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Speaking of tanks . . . ."Tanks" go out to Orbie for her Christmas card and family letter. I enjoyed it. Thanks Orbie!!

Mucusy sinus drainage and a Spidey card

LP has recovered nicely ( my theory was it was mucusy sinus drainage he was barfing up and not ecoli from Taco Bell) and is going to take some finals today. I talked to his assistant principal yesterday and even though today is the last day for students, I can take the child to school tomorrow, anytime, and the teachers will be there and he can make up his Tuesday finals. That's good.

---I got a cute Christmas card from Spidey, complete with red snowflakes tumbling out of the envelope (grrrrrr). Nesta thought she should be allowed to eat these things.

----Today is my last day of work for 2006! Except that I have to go in Friday and sign timesheets. I have so much planned for the week off: Cleaning, reorganizing my closet, enjoying the holiday with the Puddins, laundry, going to the casino for my BIRTHDAY (don't forget, my peeps), and writing the great American novel (like James Frey) and being booked on Oprah so I can sell millions of copies and be an international SUPERSTAR. I'll be the literary world's answer to Yanni.

--PS: I just got LP up and told him to get ready for school. He replied, "Thanks for getting me up at the crack of Dawn Mom so I can get my education!" I wonder where he gets that sarcasm from?

Christmas cards and vomiting

Thanks for the Christmas card Jilly. You’re always so thoughtful.
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I received a card from Tree too. It’s my favorite this year: Black and white, with a bunch of little boys dressed in red (I’m imagining the color) hooded fleece outfits pulling a string that’s attached to the trunk of a Christmas tree. Galison New York. Old-fashiony. This card would be a cool framed and matted print. Inside she wrote a nice message, although I think she called me an arsonist!
Anyway, thanks Tree.

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LP came home from school yesterday, called me at work, said he wasn’t feeling well and was taking a nap. This is unheard of. He seldom naps. When I came home at 4:30 he was on the couch with a wastebasket near him. Uh oh. Around 6, I asked him to get up because I was afraid he’d never go to sleep at bedtime. He got up, went to the bathroom and then told me he had vomited twice before I got home. He and a friend had eaten lunch at Taco Bell that day. Yuck. He went back to sleep and woke up at 8 asking for a Sprite. Not having any in the house, I went down to the little store and brought back a Sprite for him. He drank half of that and went back to sleep and slept all night. I went to ask him this morning if he felt good enough to go to school (they have finals today and tomorrow) but he said no and wants to sleep. I plan on going to work this morning but I’ll come back at lunch to check on him. Poor kid.

From my favorite Emailer!

Just One More Thing

I bought Peter Falk’s Just One More Thing a few weeks back, but just got around to reading to last night. I finished it this afternoon. Loved it. It’s written in short bursts—a story about growing up, getting eye cancer at age three, joining the Merchant Marines and slumming around Europe—then stories about his very best friend John Cassavetes, a cartoonist friend of his by the name of Lou Lilly, working in New York, his wife Shera and of course Columbo. The raincoat? Peter’s idea. The ratty, clunker of an old car? His idea. The way Columbo was always fishing around his pockets for a pencil . . a list . . .etc. his idea.
Unlike some actors who come to resent the part that made them famous, Falk seems to appreciate the fans who appreciated his Columbo. Plus he got to do other work—working with Gena Rowlands in Woman Under the Influence, and my favorite, The In-Laws.

Here’s an excerpt:





The funniest picture I ever made was The In-Laws. . . . .
Today when I’m walking the streets in a crowded city, the chances are that within four blocks some taxi driver will slow down, open his window, yell ‘Serpentine,’ give me the thumbs-up sign and wave good-bye chuckling—or four construction workers three stories up on an unfinished roof will spot me and all four in unison will shoot an arm straight upward toward the sky, shout “Serpentine,” and laugh hilariously.

Alan Arkin and Peter waiting to shoot the Serpentine scene:

Peter

(to Alan)
Alan, I have a question.

Alan
Yes.

Peter
Do you think this is a funny scene?

Alan

(not believing his ears, looking incredulous)
And you don’t?

Peter
No. I think it’s silly.

Alan
You’re the dumbest actor in America.



Alan loved that scene so much. He got a kick out of just doing it. Watching him, his total enjoyment, his funny run five steps left, then five steps right, all while yelling “Serpentine”—he could have done that run a hundred times—he’d still be doing it today if the crew hadn’t gone home. It tickled him so much. And watching him tickled me.