| Tuesday, June 29, 2004 |
| Well Again! |
I truly am under the cover of my Father. Last night, I heaved up all my dinner into the toilet bowl. I wonder if it was because I'd eaten my lunch too late or it was the soya bean milk or something in the food itself. Didn't tell parents. After that, I felt lightheaded, and tried to lie down to sleep, but lay awake until 5:30 AM, having made repeated trips to the bathroom to empty my stomach (was still feeling sick) and pee (I'd drink lots of water after each retch) and brush my teeth (I read somewhere that the acid can ruin teeth - and besides, my mouth tasted gross). (Seriously, sometimes I have this secret, silly, morbid fear that I may be developing bulimia or anorexia...not of course, that I do this frequently of course.)
I woke up at around 12:45 PM this afternoon, and scrambled to get ready for Math tuition. Was feeling really drained and strength. Had only time to grab a few bites of cheesecake. Tried to close the kitchen windows, but they were opened too far out for me to grab (the stupid metal window grid was blocking me) and kind of stuck too. So I just didn't bother and left the house, figuring being away for at most 3 hours with the windows open wouldn't do much harm. I live on the 8th floor, after all. Anyhow, by the time I sat down to do my work, I was feeling fine. Praise God. =) (Nothing like Math to wake me up. Lol.)
Am currently reading Straight Man by Richard Russo. It's good. Funny, sad, sweet, and sometimes purely nonsensical. Just what I need right now. =)
"I am, after all, frequently accused of a lack of high seriousness."
"The scar at the edge of my daughter's eye, where she flew over the handlebars of her first bike and then into the road, is aflame, and seeing this always make me feel both sad and responsible, a failed parent. It's not a big scar, just a tuck at the corner of her eye, a small reminder that life is capable of far worse things. When my daughter is happy, the scar disappears completely. But anger and frustration and weariness drag at the corner of her eye, causing her at times to look almost sinister, as she does now. If Lily were here here, and I wish she were, she'd find a way to touch the scar gently, her signal to Julie, across the long years, to smile, to make herself beautiful, an act of will."
"In department meetings, whenever a masucline pronoun was used, Campbell Wheemer corrected the speaker, saying, "Or she." Even Teddy's wife, who'd embraced feminism a decade earlier, about the same time she stopped embracing Teddy, had grown weary of this affectation. Lately, everyone in the department had come to refer to him as Orshee."
"Since his arrival, we've had few visitors, a fact Occam clearly cannot understand, given how much he enjoys them. He's so elated at seeing this one that he's immune even to the sound of Lily's raised voice, which usually causes him to quake. Teddy, who hasn't seen Occam since his face-licking stage, raises both arms to protect himself. Occam, no longer a face-licker, executes his favourite move, the one he uses on all strangers, irrespective of gender. When Teddy's arms go up, Occam burrows his long, pointed snout in Teddy's crotch and lifts, as if he imagines he's got Teddy impaled on the end of his wet nose. In fact, Teddy goes up on tiptoes, furthering the illusion." |
posted by esther @ 6:15 PM  |
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