at least it's not 4:20

...no, it was 4:15 when I woke up this morning, after Trish & I went to bed early. She was worried about getting up earlier for work, that she doesn't have enough time to clean her car windows -- even though Karen helped her with tha yesterday. Trish had the day off & did a little cleaning in the kitchen. Karen Kame by around 12:45 & took us to Subway for a real atomic ham sandwich. We finally did budget, after waiting until the month was almost ended. We drove to IGA afterwards & bought a whole bunch of yogurt, some milk, & some canned fruit, with my check book. Our allotment should go up in August.

When we came home Trish & Karen washed the car windows with the Windex they'd also bought at IGA, then we watched "Blue Moon Rising", as Trish likes to call the Pink Floyd video. I had to take a Xanax & fuck Scientology. Since I was a little distraut I called Hope. She's out of her mania & into a depression; still can't sleep. Trish wished her best of luck with her new boyfriend, which reminds me, I called Bryan yesterday morning before Trish vacuumed the floor in the kitchen.

Trish went to bed early last night, which is perhaps the reason I woke up so early. We'll see when I get my shot. I think some of it's from being really leery of Kimothy & I have to speak about that with Perky Pam.

Kimothy: really O'Leery

Kimothy opened up an old wound with Trish the other night, & picked the absolute worst time to do it. Trish's anxiety level is terribly high right now, in spite of which she keeps functioning. She's ashamed, though, that one day she took off from work a little early 'cause her foot hurt. I guess Bridget was left with a bunch of pans to clean 'cause a bunch of people came in at the last minute -- but that wasn't Trish's fault.

So she has split days off. This week she had Friday off & is getting today off, so she can finally go to church (& not the Scientological one, which defies all logic). Friday Car-girl took me to the Iron Claws, then tried to assemble Trish's car wash kit, only to take it home to her husband. After Trish's shower Kimothy Kame & upset Trish over something we both agreed never to do again. It tore at the delicate fabric of Trish's mind, & left her with a lot of anxiety & paranoia -- in spite of which I don't think that she needs a med change; she needs to see Charlene & will be seeing her every 2 weeks until we see Doc Larocque.

Saturday a couple of the pancakes burned, but at least we avoided another wholescale almost-tragedy; Trish had cleaned the burners while I was out with Car-girl. I'd been experimenting with Mozy, a site that allows you to make free backups. After I found out you need broadband I erased the program. Work on "Relayer" went fairly smoothly, 'cause I'd taken a Scientology-fucking Xanax earlier in the day; Trish's anxiety affects mine. I finished a draft, though I'm still not certain what I'll do for an ending. I may re-Critter it, but my participation ratio is down to 108%, with me only doing crits when I get a reminder note, but I may need to drop out of the group eventually; I'm now legally blind & Kimothy's blonde hair does nothing Trish's cant. (Legally Blonde just popped into my mind there.)

After I finished "Relayer" I put on the Ferry/Roxy videotape & relaxed until Trish came home. She spent 1/2 an hour napping (she still thinks she's depressed, in spite of doing the housework), 1/2 an hour in the shower, 1/2 an hour in bed air-drying her foot so we could put some more ointment & a band-aid on it, then watched Buffy in the basement until the chicken was done, & it was finger-lickin'.

We watched a porno for 1/2 an hour, then shot the Orgasm Death. Donna called right when we were exasperating VADIS, but eventually I overcame the impotence caused by the Scientology-fucking haldol. I wish there was a way to overcome the Kimothy fantasy; I mean it's not like she's better looking than Trish.

Once we were done we went straight to bed & I fell right asleep 'cause I took 3 temazapam. I woke up around 5:00, but stayed in bed until almost 6:00. Trish woke up to take her pain pill & Synthroid & is now sound asleep again while I surf cyberspace.

greasy pancakes

I could've burned the house down yesterday, with a cooking accident. Thursday was Trish's 2nd day of work for the week, after finally returning to it Wednesday. I woke up around 5:00, like usual (this morning I woke up at 6:20), & after a few hours on the computer had to fix Trish her breakfast of pancakes. The burner started to smoke when I turned up the heat, so I tipped the pan to see if the pancake batter I'd spilled there the other day was still there. Big mistake. The Pam caught on fire. Without realizing that it was a grease fire I poured a little water on it -- it flared up again, finally died down on its own.

I had an appointment with Dr. Gnome at 11:00, so I was around long enough for the Bumble Bee Girl to call from work. My blood pressure was borderline & they haven't called back with the results of the blood sugar yet. When I arrived back at home I didn't feel like writing so I put on the Bryan Ferry videotape we have. Then I remembered that when Jeffer Auss was last over he'd called from his cell phone to report that our doorbell was busted. I called Fred, who fixed the doorbell (I hope) by sandpapering down the corrosion on the contacts. Also, he cleaned the A/C filter & taped up the pad by the computer. He watched TV with me a little, but took off before Trish came back.

Then when Trish arrived I fixed her a peanut butter sammy, but while she ate it I noticed a plethora of spots before my eyes. I called Dr. Stremcha & got in to see him 1/2-3/4 of an hour later. They let Trish come in with me -- she was scared. The doctor examined my retina, then took some pictures of the inside of my eye with a digital camera (which hopefully will be covered by Medicaid). Although there's some scarring from my Salt Lake City surgery, there's no indications of holes or tears. This was a real relief.

Today, Trish is cleaning the burner. First, we have to walk to the Iron Claw Credit Union to pick up some spending cash, then I'll take the burner apart for Trish. Car-girl postponed our TA until today; yesterday was their 10th anniversary & they wanted to go out to the mountains to have a picnic & review their vows. Since all that really needed to be done was the laundry, I OKed it. She's also going to help Trish use her Mr. Clean carwash kit.

Tuesday, before & beyond

Tuesday brought with it some good news: Trish is going back to work. Following a Sunday of nothing but watching the boob tube & a Saturday walk to the bread store -- punctuated by a street gang trying to act "friendly" toward me -- the foot doctor took out the stitches, put a little ointment on it, then wrote up a slip to take to Pizza Hut so she can squirt Bridget again.

Car-girl gave us the ride to & back from the Invisible Clinic, then to Pizza Hut & then the bank to take out car insurance money. (Karen still hasn't done budget. She's harvesting the winter wheat.) Since Trish (& I) had an appointment with Charlene Upstairs (Charlene Downstairs was on the computer when we arrived) we went to the Layout to hang out until Trish needed to see her therapist. Cheri started to become a little bitchy about lunch -- "The people who were here at 10:00 get to eat first"; we were there at 5 after. Turns out the Layout is going camping out in the Iron Claw Mountains, in Bear Creek Park. I wouldn't have gone anyway, without a book or means to read it -- I forgot to mention my new trifocals, which allow me to read a little better, but it still takes a magnifying glass.

Trish's appointment with Charlene went well. She focussed mostly on Trish, but did allow me to interject a few statements. The main problem is that Trish is having a lot of anxiety over work & driving. Charlene decided that Trish should make up a list of new activities for Trish to do to engage her mind when she's knowing savage dread. Since Charlene advised reading, after eating Cheri's cardboard pizza we stopped at the library & Trish picked up CJ Cherryh's latest.

Car-girl called about 10 'til 1:00 for our TA, so Trish took off at the same time to pay the insurance bill & buy some grosh. I think I've finally impressed on her that milk is more important than Diet Max with Lime & Gatorade.

So Car-girl & I arrived at Bi-Mart, where I mostly wanted to pick up some canned fruit. They had pineapple for 99 cents a can, so I grabbed a few, then saw some coffee on sale & added that to the shopping cart. When I wanted to continue to the Noncorean-less Buckadingdong Store, though, Car-girl admitted to being very sick, so I just grabbed my canned fruit (2fer1), then came straight home. About that time I had a bizarre cognitive experience & had to take a Xanax & fuck the skinny dog. Trish mostly just read while I sat in the copilot's chair & listened to my awesome & real atomic homemade speakers.

Hope called. She claims she's manic & fuck Scientology. She agrees with me, going without sleep for the first week is fun, then you kind of reach the point where you wish your sleeping pills would kick in. Hope has been a good friend for many years now & I'm hoping they can treat her illness with some Scientology-fucking medication. Fuck the Scooby Club, too, while I'm at it.

We finally fixed leftover sketti for supper & then watched Dark Angel, which we'd taped the night before. Right before bedtime we listened to the first Roxy Music album on vinyl. We snuggled up with Snuggle Uppagus & then I woke up at 5:00 in the morning again. Perhaps I'm going thru a mood swing. If it reaches the point where I crave sleep I'll take 3 instead of 2 temazapam.

I'm looking forward today to working on "Relayer". The ending is all new & without bookmarks so I can write while refreshed, but I think that I'll go back to the beginning today. I'm in no rush cuz Stan still has "Astronomy Domine". If he returns it "Relayer" goes straight to Critters; straight to an MPC. We'll just have to wait & see what happens when the mailman comes today.

revenge of Dr. Diaper

Trish had to take some more time off from work. Yesterday morning we called Car-girl after our breakfast of pancakes for a ride up to the Clinic. Trish dressed in her Pizza Hut uniform, after I told her that, if she didn't get time off, it'd save her having to change clothes. The first thing that the doctor said was that she needed more time off; come back Tuesday before her appointment with Charlene. We mostly just watched a lot of TV yesterday. Today I plan on going out to the bread store in the morning cool. We really need to make our food budget stretch until we can get back to the bank -- & especially start building up pay checks. At least Say Bra & Tim have been understanding about it.

Bill Warren sent me another long email today. He certainly loves to write & writes well, for an artist. I wrote back saying I'm not certain ANALOG TV would fly on Skiffy (a lot of people think Star Truck is realistic, for example) & asked him to look at "Astronomy Domine".

foot doctor doom

Trish has another appointment with the foot doctor today. Yesterday Car-girl (Trish is still afraid of parking lots) gave us a ride to the Invisible Clinic. The doctor found some moisture on her foot, bandaged it (but allowed her to wear her shoe & sock) & told her that she may need to take some more time off from work. Now she's saying she wants to do housework but not her job, but I'm making damn sure if she takes time off from work she stays in the recliner watching the Buffster kick ass. If she's well enough to do household chores she's well enough to work. She complained yesterday & this morning that her foot hurt. Although the doctor prescribed some pain pills, she can't take them at work (drowsiness).

We stopped by the bank on the way home, for weekend money. Trish hopped into her trusty bat-mobile & drove off to work before I picked up her pain pills. I took a Xanax as the night before I'd woke up at 4:00 & I was having some anxiety about Trish & fuck Scientology & Karen Relationships. This relaxed me enough to go to the fair with Car-girl, who read my Thing from Bill Warren, who probably hates me because I have a mental illness. Car-girl agreed that it was a lawsuit waiting to happen, but all that needs to be done is to use the word replace key in order to take out the references to the motorcycle company & the allusions to Harlan Ellison's work -- whom I'm less concerned with than the bike guys; I don't mind insulting him as he was rude to me & in general is a glorified hack, awards or no awards.

Trish's car was parked outside when Car-girl & I came back with the laundry. While we were listening to our special friend (music) the Amazon.com guy showed up with a magnifying lamp, that Bob Richards had sent. It still doesn't help me read; maybe after I get the new bifocal... I called him up & discussed Jung for awhile, as I'm trying to reread P&A in order to write Noc-Lar.

mania-depression & fuck Scientology

The last couple of days have been hard on the true Rootboy covered with slime (that's me, folks!). Trish has been doing nothing but whine about her medication. She thinks she's "depressed", but she's able to do the bathroom floor on her day off & she's doing OK at work. Now I'm hearing that she wants to quit her job because she's tired of being a Noncorean role model & Russ & Sam stopped her on the way to McRonald's -- when she hasn't worked that job in years.

Every few minutes it's, "Jim, I'm depressed; I need my Lamictal raised". When I try to tell her that I don't see any symptoms, she'll turn around & say, "But I feel like quitting". My personal belief is that she's simply going thru a lot of anxiety about returning to work after being off for 3 weeks. I also think part of it is coming from tooling the bat-mobile to Pizza Hut every day; she's still insecure over her driving. She admits that she went stir-crazy from doing nothing but watching TV/listening to music for all that time, but no one at the Layout understands her working -- you're going to let Rusty Copper tell you this? He's brain-damaged from huffing paint, & all he ever does is sit around & get thoroughly descoobied on Mountain Fresh beer, not to mention dem God-made herb, on top of which he fences hot property.

The only thing that I really see in Trish that might require a med change is that her sleep cycle has changed. She used to always sleep until the alarm went off; here lately she's been waking up at 5:00, when I do. As for myself, I think I'm entering a hypomania & may need to start to take more temazapam at bedtime until the Depakote kicks in.

We called Karen (the non-skinny-dog one) about it last night, & she said she doesn't think Trish is suffering from "mania depression" & doesn't need a med change. Since Charlene is booked up until August, Karen suggested having her meet with Joe. She also suggested having Dr. Huffman consult with Doc Larocque. We have to wait 2 months to see her in the flesh, but something could be orchestrated thru the electronic wire. I just don't know what Trish is going to do if she doesn't get her med change. She'll throw a fit & then it'll be impossible to live with her. I'm already constantly hearing a lot of whining. I think, though, that we've finally convinced her that she needs to see Joe before she goes off & sees a doctor.

Part of the problem is Dr. Locoweed. She has a problem with Trish seeing outside doctors. Although she is here in town & could render a med change a lot sooner, she doesn't really listen to her patients. Doc Larocque had to take Trish off haldol & Depakote. I'm having some real problems with oculogyric crises & know Plush Suzette wouldn't even consider for a minute taking me off haldol. It's true, I love it when Perky Pam puts a spike into my vein, but the mind-dissolving power of the bizarre cognitive experiences is too great for me to want off the med & the Xanax just makes me tired.

So I suppose that if I'm hypomanic that I should try to do as much writing as possible, remain in the clear, white light before the shadow of depression once again possesses my mind. At this point, I'm still bummed out over Bill's rejection of the Hog & am afraid that he'll reject me for having a mental illness. I suppose if he does that I don't need his art. "Fixing" the Hog is mostly just a matter of using the word-replace key, but I'm not sure that I can get that thru to him.

Trish will be waking up pretty soon. She has to get the stitches out of her foot this morning. I think that she finally fell back to sleep. I'm hoping that she won't start whining too much, but I guess that we'll just have to wait & see.

Chopped Hog & Spam

Today is a sad day for me, hypomania forgotten with my illness revealed. Today Bill Warren sent me a rather devastating put-down of the fucking Hog. Mostly, he knows the real Invisible Hog, & feels that, in its current form, the story would violate too many people's trademarks, from the True Hog down to the motorcycle company for him to work on it in "its present form". I spent 2 hours this morning drafting a reply in which I revealed my mental illness & questioned why he wants to return my WordPerfect to me. Most of the "problems" could be fixed with the word-replace key, & screw the Hog, he's a minor author, anyway.

I also sent Bill a lot of stuff about Mindstorm, as it already contains the Hog, but not in the form that it's in in the comic book.

Car-girl agreed to take me out around 3:00 (she rescheduled because of her karaoke contest). I printed up Bill's letter to show her, but am mostly going to hang out around home & watch DVDs.

Yesterday was our "official" anniversary so we ordered out a sausage stuffed crust pizza after Car-girl & I returned from buying Trish a car wash kit at K-mart. I had another of the damn oculogyric crises -- Car-girl said it wasn't, but she didn't look closely enough -- & the Xanax did very little. Fuck the Hog & Scientology. My mind needs the Mindstorms quelled. Trish is my ocean of tranquility, but now she's going thru some kind of anxiety attacks about work.

I feel miserable. I wish I could sail the darkened sea in a great big submarine.

off we go...

...to work in the City of Invisible, to Pizza the Hutt. Sunday was the end of Trish's vacation, if you really want to call having your foot chopped up & then having to walk on (Paul) tippytoes for a couple weeks. It's been almost 3 weeks to the day since Trish last hosed down the dishes from the luncheon buffet. Tomorrow is our official anniversary, so I'm taking her out to Dairy Queen for ice cream. Today I fix her pancakes again, & then she'll have leftover stir-fry for lunch.

What's also cool is that Car-girl is giving her help on pulling out of the Atrium parking lot. We need to go there to check some buckadingdongs out of the Iron Claw Credit Union. I also need to go to the Upstairs for my shot (& fuck Scientology) & will stay Downstairs for lunch as the haldol crashes me out too bad to do much in the way of writing. Work on "Relayer" will therefore be suspended until Tuesday, which is TA day with Car-girl. She didn't make Mrs. Montana, but at least she went to the pageant -- & lost 75 lbs. for it since last year.

This morning Bob Richards sent me a reply on my email about Trish's foot surgery. He promised to send me a magnifying glass. Maybe if it's here before Kamp I'll go out & read a book & stare at Noncorean boobs when she's leaving the water. Although I don't know just yet if we'll be going to the dam or the Iron Claws.

Trish at least didn't wake up at 5:00 this morning like I did. My own excuse is that I'm probably hypomanic -- the Scientology fucking spike into my vein may nullify that -- but where the Bumble Bee Girl is concerned, she might not need a med change. Waking up early was probably just due to anxiety over work. Yesterday she had some nightmares that I'd divorce her for failing at driving, & I have to convince her that I'm not going to let her go. She's too cute, child-like personality & all.

I certainly had some anxiety of my own over Trish returning to work. Yesterday I had to take a Xanax & fuck the skinny dog. I'm running low so I have to call Western Drug once they're open, as well as needing some refills on other stuff.

She sleeps sweetly... I think that I'll get off the computer & just listen to Retro-active until the alarm goes off.

one more time to live & I'll have made it mine

One more day & Trish will be back at Pizza Hut, spraying down dishes from the luncheon buffet. I suppose the first thing that I have to do when I begin the sequel to The Mind-Warp Era (under the pen name W.C. "Lead" Leadbeater) is kill off Toni so I can court & marry the Beautiful Bumble Bee Girl. (She's so popular.) Jillong & me Bonnie would have to stand in the middle, & Kimothy's Leery. I don't suppose that I'll ever write a sequel, though, as the condition -- rampant insanity -- which created the original has now been treated with medication & fuck Scientology & the skinny dog can cram her herbs up her ass.

Trish is going thru something that may require a med change (& fuck Scientology), but I'm not certain what it is or should be. For the last couple days she's been waking up at 5:00 in the morning, whereas for the last couple years she's been getting up around 8:00 or even later, if she doesn't have an appointment or has the day off from Pizza Hut. I think some of it may be anxiety over her driving. Tomorrow Perky Pam puts a spike into my vein, so Trish will have to park in the Atrium parking lot, & she's scared of parking lots. Itz the Copz. When Trish had that minor fender bender in the parking lot behind Iron Claw House the copz got all belignant over it so she got scared of driving. Trish-uh! was supposed to help her out, but she's been laid off by Upstairs for taking too much time off from her TA job. First, she was in school & needed time off for her finals; then her grandma got sick with cancer; then she could never find a baby-sitter; one excuse after another. Trish does know how to make it to work & back, but is scared to go up to the Clinic Thursday to have her stitches removed.

So maybe the issue will be resolved when she's driving more & realizes that she drives better than some insane teeny-boppers who tool their machines around while thoroughly descoobied on Mountain Fresh beer. She just told me she wants her Lamictal raised & fuck Scientology. She may need that done. It's just that Suzanne takes you down to the Living Water. Whatever the case, I promised Trish that if the condition persists that we'll contact a qualified medical professional who agrees that Scientologists can go fuck themselves.

Hi-ho, hi-ho, it's off to work she goes (Monday)

Typewriter torment, it will soon harry me again: Tuesday; Perky Pam is due to put a spike into my vein Monday, or I would begin again sooner. Fred took us up to the Invisibe Clinic Thursday, with his guitar charts for entertainment. He is certainly dedicated -- as am I to my writing (typewriter torment), it's simply that I keep collecting rejection slips while he sings in front of the church.

So we were the doctor's first patients. Or actually, she was the patient; I was there for moral support. The appointment itself took little time. The nurse removed the dressing & then the doctor said the stitches come out next Thursday, but she could return to work on Monday.

We ran the doctor's excuse by Pizza Hut, then I let her nap for an hour -- she'd been so worked up over her appointment that she'd been unable to sleep all night. In the meantime, I sprayed the alley out with Weed-b-Gone. When Trish woke up we went to the Layout, where such types as Noncorean & Mary Juana were hanging out. We had hot beef sandwiches for lunch. I think Cheri is finally starting to put more water in her roasts; the meat wasn't tough, as usual.

When Trish & I came home, we watched Return of the King Part 2, then Trish started to clean the kitchen. I ran over to Fat Albert's Sons to pick up our film -- the pictures of snow we took for Joey, who has been conspicuously absent. I also picked up a cold-pak of Diet Max w/ Lime. When suppertime came I took Trish out to El Taco Loco, but instead of crazy tacos we had crazy nachos. After supper I put The Empire Strikes Back in the VCR while she took a shower.

I fell asleep during it as I'd taken a whole Xanax to ward off a bizarre cognitive experience & fuck Scientology & the skinny dog. These really horrible experiences happened before, the first time I had to take haldol & once again, fuck Scientology. I've made an appointment with Doc Larocque to see about switching from haldol to stelazine because of the side-effects & I truly feel the Elrons of this world can go fuck themselves.

sleepless nights, love & torment

I haven't written much in my blog lately 'cause the endless diet of movies & Rekerds keeps me from using the computer as much as I used to. On top of everything else, there's no good Dick in town; A Scanner Darkly couldn't compete with Pirates of the Caribbean, which is certainly true of Invisible City but not the City of Night.

Trish is depressed 'cause she called the nurse yesterday while I was at my eye appointment (& ignoring Cheri) -- I do get new trifocals -- she called the podiatrist's nurse & found out she may need much more time off work. She just wants to return to work & is going stir-crazy. Today after I run my old lens back to the optometrist & pick up my grocery-money check from Karen we'll watch Return of the King. In the evenings Trish likes to listen to my old collection of divinyl LPs. It's hard for me to use the computer when she's around, but for the last couple days I've been waking up at 5:00 AM. This is with 2 temazapam & no benadryl (I ran out) & fuck Scientology & the skinny dog. I'm not certain if the effect is from being off the benadryl or from my bipolar disorder, but I do have the option of using 3 temazapam & may do so if I get real strung out with lack of sleep. I'm still trying to decide if the Xanax (& fuck the skinny dog) is enough to deal with the panic attacks that accompany my oculogyrics or if I should switch back to stelazine. I did some of my best writing on stelazine, even though ASIM called "Fragile Eggshell Mind" "badly over-written", but (1) I'm not certain what drug I was on & (2) Gardner returned it with complements, so I don't think that they know what they're doing. In any case, I have over a month to figure out if I want a spike into my vein or a little purple pill.

Trish & I are having brecchie of French toast today. Maybe that will make it seem more like a work day. I have 20 minutes left on the computer until then.

ding-dong, the warts are gone

I am so relieved. Yesterday my apprehension forced me to take a whole Xanax & fuck Scientology & the skinny dog. The reason for my experiencing savage dread was that I was really afraid Trish's tumors would turn out to be cancer & all that this implies. Before we were even ushered into the exam room the doctor said, "I have some good news for you: it's not cancer. It's just a case of stubborn warts".

Car-girl & I did some laundry, picked up 10 cans of sketti-o's at Albertson's & then went to the Gallery for pie & ice cream following buying hamster food at Bi-Mart. We picked up 3 loaves of bread at the bread store, then I returned to find Trish watching Britney. We had leftover pic-a-nic food. The Xanax put me to sleep during Mean Girls & fuck the skinny dog. Biggolith should just lose the thing.

4th of July party 2006

Trish is sitting in front of the TV, watching Mad TV while I endure typewriter torment. She's still recovering from her foot surgery, so she watched Britney while I got my shot at the Perky Pam Layout & fuck Scientology, not to mention the Scooby Club, Ronnie & Jeffer Auss aside.

Being determined that Trish should have something to do on the 4th, I bought a bunch of pic-a-nic supplies over at Albertson's in the morning. They gave us $67 in food stamps this month 'cause Trish is sick. I made us pancakes for Brecchie as a change from corn flakes. Our lunch was canned raviolis, & then we had to hurry up & wait for people to show up for our party at 6:00. Dan came 1st, bringing his guitar & nearly stopping at the wrong house: I went out to watch for him just when he drove up. When Jeffer came we threw the hot dogs into some boiling water. Ed & Denise showed up around 6:20 & everybody had a good time. At one point I tried to join in with Dan, but he's a far better musician than I am.

Fred is coming over tonight in order to fix our busted sprinkler, assuming that it's possible to fix it. We're having left-overs for supper, & Trish wants to play the keyboard Fred gave her.

Pam gave me my shot today as she was gone on Monday. We discussed the possibility of getting onto stelazine instead of haldol as I did my best writing on that drug (2nd only to U-boat) & fuck Scientology.

champions of breakfast

Alright! We're having pancakes again! Ever since the surgery, the Beautiful Bumble Bee Girl has wanted nothing but cold cereal, corn flakes that we got at Albertson's on sale. Usually, we have the pancakes when she's working & cereal on her days off, but she's had nothing but days off since Dr. Marino did the biopsy on her foot.

Today I get to spend some time with Car-girl, probably going some place in her car. (I'm hoping for a convertible ride & a pop at the Iron Claw Drive-in.) It'll be good to get out of the house for a change, since Sunday all we did was watch the Titanic, save for I went down the street & bought some Crazy Tacos. I slept thru the last 1/2 of the Titanic, as I took 1/2 a Xanax from the anxiety of pre-shot day -- I'm due today but Perky Pam isn't back until Wednesday -- & fuck Scientology.

Thursday the bandage comes off Trish's foot, & maybe soon she'll be able to return to work. In the meantime it's kind of a protracted vacation for the both of us. I did send Bill what I'd done so far on the Invisible Hog. This frees me up to finish "Relayer". I did write to Platinum Studios yesterday & found that Jerome had left the company. I resubed to the new guy, who wrote back even though it was a Sunday.

The weather here has been becoming abominably hot. We did switch the a/c off for a bit so Trish could hear her movie, but by Wednesday it's supposed to hit 100.

She sleeps sweetly...

Trish is still in bed, this Saturday after her surgery. Even though the Bumble Bee Girl could be heading into cancer -- the growth on her arm was a benign skin cancer -- she's very brave in confronting it. Yesterday she seemed to be becoming alive again. The first day she napped a lot & didn't really develop much of an appetite until yesterday, even though she wasn't able to finish her Corn Chex in the morning.

Car-girl did our TA yesterday instead of Thursday; Thursday she went to Griffles. We left Trish parked in front of the TV with a Sci-Fi channel Andromeda marathon playing. We did some odds-&-ends in the laundry-mat & then went to Bi-Mart for Diet Shasta Grapefruit -- 2 buckadingdongs -- followed by 10 cans of the 2 for a buckadingdong vegetables at the Buckadingdong store, where Noncorean was provocatively absent. We then went to Jack's Tacos for a Diet Mountain Dew & talked for awhile.

Last night Trish & I did her hair. She knelt by the tub while I bucketed water over her head.

After I fixed a big pot of sketti for supper. We put on Legend & fuck Scientology. Kimothy kame around; she's leaving for Oreo-gone soon. I figured out the closed captions so she could watch TV with us. She had to go take her meds at 7:00. Trish got tired early cuzza her pain pills. We talked a little while snuggling & she thought I'd get into terrible legal troubles for making a Tom Cruise joke in the Invisible Hog, but I reassured her that it was just one sentence & fuck Scientology. If she reads The War of Dreams this afternoon I may actually be able to finish the Hog. What a long, strange motorcycle trip it's been.