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Thursday, Mar. 11, 2004 / 6:56 p.m. ~Watching the PDR/Just Forget It/Dan's Tan, and etc.~ I did it again, I watched the CBS Evening News. I took yesterday off, you know, and I was craving the national news, the Dan Rather in Baghdad news (I dig the way he says Al Qaeda), but Jesus Christ, after watching the ads, and of course I did, I just sat there with my cheddar microwave popcorn watching the whole thing, save the last three minutes about the robots, I feel like I just read the PDR (Physician's Desk Reference, if you didn't know). Let's see what I can remember... Eledil is a cream for exzema, but how does one spell exczema? Which way? Either? But, it can cause viral skin infections, and the most common side effect is warmth and burning upon application. Must weigh the benefits on that one. There's Prevacid, which somehow stops, or slows the spread of acid from the stomach to the esophagus, thus helping those who suffer from heartburn and acid reflux. I think this one had some nasty side effects, probably diarrhea, they usually cause diarrhea, all these drugs. Procrit is for the rebuilding of red blood cells, particularly helpful for those suffering chemotherapy-related anemia. And if you're a retiree, and part time school crossing guard, but you can't get out there with the stop sign and the kids because you're too damned weak from the chemo, you can try Procrit and maybe have some diarrhea, which would be extremely inconvenient while out in the crosswalk, yes? Six of one, half dozen of the other. Consult your physician, please. There's also Fosamax, and this one helps to restore bone. It's for women 'of a certain age' who are susceptible to bone loss and osteoporosis. Sad indeed. Try some Fosamax, but it may cause you to have the runs, so you can stand up straighter on your way to the toilet. Consult your physician to see if Fosamax is right for you. Wow, did I cover it all? Good memory, huh? Tonight at work, and by tonight I mean from 5:00 to 6:00, I did ye olde front desk coverage, and noticed the sky an odd shade of reddish orange, pre-sunset, as from that vantage I can look out the front windows, floor to ceiling, don't you know. And when one person on her way home sweet home opened the front door I smelled the smoke. I went out and smelled and looked some more and there was a thick haze of the stuff, obscuring the blue sky above, causing the peculiar shade in its place. I've come home and turned on local news, as well as the national, which we'll get to in a minute, and no mention whatsoever, none. Niente, nada, zip, zilch. I mean the haze covered the job site, all the way to my apartment, some four miles as crows fly. What gives? Norman wanted to go out on the porch, but I wouldn't let her, it's smokey and horrible out there, the smell is heavy, it's all really just hanging. Isn't that odd? Something burned, something big, and the smoke caused a bright red sun at day's end, and the smoke hangs as if we're in some valley in the Alps or something, all hot chocolate-ed out, in our skivvies in front of a million fireplaces here in our valley, but no, we are not. Go figure. Ah, so the news, horrible horrible horrible stuff, again, but Madrid this time. Fooking Madrid! The largest, most well orchestrated terror attack of its kind in Europe, ever. Freaking horrible. No, it's fucking disgusting. The commentary was fairly poetic. It was pointed out that cell phones rang on the bodies of the dead being carried out by emergency workers, loved ones trying to get in touch upon learning of the disaster. I wonder what ring tones were playing? Were they songs? Was it canned classical? Long rings? Hip hop classics? Did some vibrate? Anyone remember beepers? God, but those things were annoying, remember? And the threat to us, the unsubstantiated threat, and what is taking them so long to attack us but good, again? What are they waiting for? Funny, but this time I feel tense. That email read aloud on the air got to me more than any Homeland Security Alert ever did. Orange, green, purple, who cares, it was all propaganda designed to rally us all behind our fearless/idiot leader, but this, I don't know, this is bad. Anyone could have sent that email, and would the government, our government alert us when there was real danger, or just to get us where they want us, when they want us there? Madrid? Why do we still seem so untouchable? And who is this spy woman, this woman who says, handcuffed, being shoved into the FBI vehicle, or was it state police?, "I am an antiwar activist..."?? What is her deal? Antiwar? So she helped the Iraqis by spying? Is this true? I'm so confused. And am I just begging Google hits for this entry? Let's throw in 'hairy vaginas' just to see how many more I get! Whee!!! Really, though, I had a day from hell. Captial H E L L, hell. I was near tears the entire day. I was in tears for part of it, and I'm nowhere near my period, my period is so over, and not scheduled to begin again for at least another whole two weeks (fucking menstruation!), but really, it was stupid. It was intense anger and frustration, all job related, and I choose not to relate any of it here, nor now. I walked in the door of my home, my pad here, my cozy abode, wanting to rush to the television to find out about all this valley-like smoke accumulation, and just being here, just walking in, just seeing those two cats, and why are there two?, there are two cats living here!, I felt so much better, it was all gone, all of it. It just disappeared. I mean I can conjure it if I would so choose, but who would? It was horrible, just so horrible. I hate it all. I am tired of frowning, nay, scowling, I am tired of hating, I want to be in love, I want to be loved, I want happiness, I want to stop wanting. I'm going to shave my head and join a Buddhist monastery. Oh, but wait, do they allow women? And are the monks hot?, because you know if I get around a bunch of men in this, my horny forties, I am going to explode with desire... Okay, forget the monastery, but maybe I can study Buddhism anyway. I want a life free of desire, because it's the desire, the lack of 'going with any sort of flow' that is killing me. Mantra for today was "Forget it, just forget it", followed by a quick "It just doesn't matter". Add a "Fuck it", and later, after the news, a "What is this world coming to!?!?!?!", and it's getting kind of long. Dan Rather is nice and tan in the desert there in Iraq. His media transport came upon a bomb scene shortly after it happened, a couple US soldiers, er, 'troops', killed, by 'insurgents' (RESISTANCE FIGHTERS, get it right, dammit!, they don't want us there!!!!!!!!!) and he couldn't hide his adrenalin surged excitement. I think he still digs all the gonzo journalism crap. And I still dig him doing it. He'll probably die doing it, old fart that he is. I'm going to drink my wine now, read some online journals and such. And then, my own escape from all the bombarding reality, the intensely dramatic "all-star" "Survivor". Who will leave tonight? Voted out or leaving because of weakness, or family death, or sexual harassment? Can't wait to find out. (Oh, the apartment 'mortgage inspection' happened, and I wasn't quite sure if they entered my apt or did not, but the doormat was askew, mos' def'. Hard to say, hard to say, I could hardly care less, but BOTH cats rushed to the door (saying, "Hey, men were here!!! Men were here!!!! You missed it!!!") when I came in for 'lunch', 'lunch' in quotes on account of I did not eat, I went to the office to sign my new lease, and ask them to make amendments beforehand, and it was a major pig fuck and I had no time to eat - poor, poor, pitiful me in my bad bad day - at least I wasn't in fucking Madrid riding a commuter train. Fucking terrorists, leave the 'soft civilian targets' alone, man, it's just SO very wrong, SO wrong.) Cost of the War in Iraq
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