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My sister, while they’re drawing blood and starting an IV to give her medication in case she feels nauseous: ‘I don’t feel nauseous.’

Me, sitting in a chair watching them draw her blood: ‘I do!’
Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

I should have brought a book to this waiting area where it looks like I’ll be spending my saturday. Instead I brought my blackberry and… Let’s check the contents of my pocket, shall we? A receipt, a bandaid, eleven dollars and 48 cents, two packets of equal, two earplugs, a banana and a myna bird.

Now, I know what you’re thinking, but the truth is that I just prefer equal to splenda. I find it to be a bit sweeter and it has less of a chemical aftertaste. As for the myna bird, I’m not going to lie, it’s somewhat annoying to have to watch what I say all the time for fear of it being parroted back to me. At the same time it’s been hugely illuminating to listen to the profound things that come out of his beak, which are obviously things he picked up from me. In bird years, he’s probably about 65. Just a really old soul. And so funny. Sometimes he does this thing where he just looks at me and stands still and I’m like, ‘yep, he’s got my number!’ This one time he ate a grape and, well, you just should have seen it. Also, he’s kept me from making what would have turned out to be a couple massively unwise real estate investments. I’m not going to lie though, he also told me to sell short when I should have hung on. I was mad, but I wrote out my feelings to him in a letter and I think he really got what I was saying. I felt heard, which is so important.

Actually, he and I have really gotten into it because he thinks it’s rude when I read when he’s right there so maybe it’s better I don’t have a book. Still, I wish he’d understand that it’s not personal, I just need some time with my thoughts and it doesn’t mean my feelings about him have changed.

Uh oh, it appears he’s eaten an earplug. Say that again? I can’t hear you! Use words! Enunciate please.

Well this is really frustrating. He does it just to annoy me.

Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

a timely and newsy debate topic. Any ideas?

Also… I guess I actually don’t have anything more to say. I never don’t have more to say. Which is to say, I always have more to say. Say, that’s weird. Okay then.

Wrong, you’ll be at the Apple Store in Soho where I’ll be moderating a live Q&A with David Schwimmer who you may know as Ross but who also directed Run Fatboy Run which is coming out next week. We’ll show clips and then talk about them. I’ll take questions from the audience. Michael Ian Black wrote the screenplay but he won’t be there as he’s in Vancouver apparently. God, just say you don’t want to go, don’t pretend to be in Canada I thought to myself as I dashed off an email that said “oh! have fun in Vancouver!”

Anyway, see you there unless you don’t live here in which case you should probably just do whatever you were planning on doing.

It turns red every evening between 5pm and 7pm. I’m not even kidding. Like blushing, but concentrated in my nose and cheeks. 5pm is also when I start drinking gin out of a paper bag under my desk. Do you think it’s a coincidence? I’m kidding about the drinking. Anyway, I pointed out the puffy redness to the Red Eye makeup lady and she said “you have a tan from California!” and I said “I don’t actually! My face just turns red sometimes!” I should have gone with the tan thing. Anyway, I bring this up because I’m in full Rudolph mode right now. If you saw me and you were in a car, you would slam on the brakes.

ever suspect those Snapple “real facts” are total bullshit?

To wit: real fact #124 “Seals sleep only one and a half minutes at a time.”

Really? I once napped with a seal and excuse me, but I think I would have noticed if he was up every 90 seconds.

I have not taken advantage of the extra hour of daylight to make hay or rotate my crops. Damnit!

Yay!

Looks like we’re boarding again. Hooray!

This trip is like a kidney stone that I can’t pass. You know, but not that bad, because actually it was good. I just mean that the weird feelings I was looking forward to flying away from are bearing down because I’m stuck in an airport pickling in them. Sorry for all the mixed metaphors. And the general crappy writing. I’ll chin up shortly, I’m sure. Well, tomorrow at least. Hopefully.

On the upside, there are a couple little birds in here somehow hopping around on the carpet. I jumped a couple times thinking they were mice, but now that I’m past that, I think they’re cute.

I may cry a little anyway though, because the overriding feeling I’m experiencing right now is one of mournfulness.

Update: a plum just rolled across the floor.