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Debby left a comment asking for a picture. And while I’m sure that she meant a CLOTHED picture, a few days ago I toyed with the idea of taking a picture of my Frankenstein-like incision, mostly for my own morbidly curious pleasure. Of course, I wouldn’t post it, but I laughed at the idea of her face when she opened her email and saw this hideous anchor-shaped scar. Ha!

Man, these painkillers are making me weird.

I’m going crazy staying at my parents’ house. I want to go home to my stuff and my cat. But I can’t, because I can’t lift ANYTHING and I can’t bend over at all. So I need someone around to help me move stuff and pick things up. It sounds stupid, but you have no idea how much you take for granted your abilities to just pick up your laptop and carry it around, or open the bottom drawer of the refrigerator to get the cheese out.

That goes along with how much we never know how much our abdominal muscles are involved in EVERY DAMN THING until a big expensive flashy doctor with a disgusting show-off Maui tan tells you not to use them. These things include (but are not limited to):

laughing
sneezing
coughing
crying
breathing
blowing your nose
choking on watermelon (ok, that’s a bad idea for a few reasons)
sitting up
sitting down
rolling over
playing dead.

This is not easy, people.

Also what is not easy is watching what a total bitch my sister is to my parents, and how they just roll over and let her be. This has been a problem for me for a while. I hate it.

This morning my grandma came over, and we had a nice racism-filled conversation. First, while we were talking about dogs (her cat Sweet Pea [who was neither sweet nor pea-sized] was killed by a dog down the street a few weeks ago), she made a comment that it seems engrained in dogs’ DNA to hate mailmen. And then she said, “You know the only good things about Mexicans is the dogs. Those chihuahas next door bark as soon as the mail man is on our block. So I always know when the mail’s here!” After that, we were talking about hurricane Katrina, and all the crap that happened, and she said, “And you know what I can’t believe? Those people* re-elected that Mayor Nigger. Nayger. Nigger. Nager. Nigger. You know who I mean.”

*Those people = black people

But the best thing she said was when she was getting ready to leave, and we were talking about Bob Barker leaving The Price is Right. She said she couldn’t watch it anymore because she hd no respect for Bob after having all those affairs with The Barker’s Beauties. She said, “Every time he’s on TV all I think about is some model on her knees in front of him with her face in his crotch.”

That’s coming from my 75 year-old grandmother.

Enjoy.