I now have a working scanner. The old one is sitting all alone in a dumpster, feeling bitter about the way life has ended. The new one, well, old-new (“gently used”) is sitting on the floor where Omid-Joon hooked it up, smiling seductively at me, whispering “scan your cartoons . . . scan them . . . and blog them.” It’s very disconcerting when your accroutrements du computer start talking to you. Did I just say “accoutrements du computer”? Oui, je parle francais. Or, in words you can maybe be understanding better, Yis, I speeky zee Fraaansh.
I will PROBABLY start publishing them, here on my l’il ole blog, in January. Because otherwise they’re just sitting in a file and lets face it, I’m never going to get them published in the book with the cover that has me reading a paper on the toilet outside on the curb.
My eyes are now officially crusting over with the need to sleep. But seriously, check out Omid. He was almost our sperm donor. He is the only man I have ever, ever seriously wanted. You know, wanted. I felt the call of the wild – to throw him on the floor, rip off his pants and make a baby with him. It was WEIRD. Go to his site. See that half-naked guy playing the didgeridoo? Yeah, baby. I LOVE that man.
But before I go – you know what’s strange? I’m making friends with someone through blogging. I’m not sure how to feel about that, intellectually, but luckily I’m not much of an intellectual so if it feels good do it, right? I’m growing very fond of her, in an LYLAS kind of way. I like her and her family a lot, and they found a mass in her partner and I’m really sad and scared for them. People I’ve never met face to face.
I’ve been wanting to write about Diane, who I lost, but I’m not going to now. Instead I’m lighting a candle for everything to be ok in the body of someone I’ve never met but really, weirdly, care about.