I love my mom.
She called today after she saw me post-show last night because she said I seemed upset and/or sick. I was both, and I guess I shouldn't have been surprised when she totally read my mail. Because she's my mom, and she knows.
I keep saying I'm done with being sick, and then I keep... not being done. That is the essential summary of my bout with bronchitis thus far.
Most of the movies I have seen lately have been too campy for their own good and I haven't read anything for a week or so, so I don't have much to blog about. If I was my brother, I'd write something deep and philosophical but I don't have enough lung capacity for that.
Except I no longer have a mohawk. That's noteworthy.
Still pink, though. For the moment.
6 comments:
you'd better have a picture of this pink mohawk, or at least the capability of recreating it. i'm desperate! i need to see it! i misssss you!
There is nothing worse than a campy movie on a sick stomach, or throat as the case may be.
You're meat, and I'm tenderizing you!
Bethany A said that.
THAT'S NOT WHAT I MEANT TO SAY. i meant to say "You're meat, and I'm stabbing you", but "tenderizing" came out.
Yep, STABBING is so much nicer..
From thru the looking-glass
And once she had really frightened her old nurse by shouting suddenly in her ear, 'Nurse! Do let's pretend that I'm a hungry hyaena, and you're a bone.'
If I make you feel normal, does that make me WEIRD?
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