Go to the damn tea party and vacate my premises.

I sat on my bed a couple hours ago recuperating from yet another invasive procedure (and sadly not the last) that involved laxatives and a long, long tube and was disturbed, not by my unending gas pains, the general rumbling of my guts, the grogginess of the anesthesia, but by a small, dark thing moving along my peripheral field of vision somewhere near my door. This small, dark thing was a mouse. A freaking mouse... in my bedroom.

Now, I knew darn well that we had mice in the apartment. This was not happy knowledge. Cute or not, rodents are rodents. I don't even dig on squirrels - rats w/better PR. Mice? Totally not my thing. I saw a dead one about a month ago and my roommate saw three last week - all alive mind you. However, since the exterminator came on Saturday (whom my landlord refers to in a thick Jamaican accent with no intended humor as "the terminator") and supposedly eradicated the vermin, I figured I wouldn't be seeing any mice in my bedroom today. Normally I'm a pretty tough chick. I mean, I like pink and dresses are cool, but I'm not an uber girly girl.

That said, nothing sends me into squealing chick mode like rodents. Well, rodents or roaches. Both of which we have. It's so disgusting. I've been voluntarily marooned on my bed for the last 2 hours with the exception of a quick trip to the bathroom, natch. I know I'm bigger then he is. I know he can't hurt me. I know all of the reality, but I still don't want to see that mouse. Nu uh. No thanks. I'm moving in 2 weeks and it is a good thing. It's also a good thing because there was a shooting on my block yesterday. A 15 yr old kid took a bullet to the head. Yep. Makes my mouse drama ridiculous.

I'm braving it. I'm headed to the kitchen to make a cup of tea. If I don't post again soon send a search party. I'm one of the only white women in Flatbush. You'll find me.

Scars

I hate hurting. Physically, emotionally, pain is pain. My body hurts. I miss someone. I'm worried. I wish there was a band-aid for inner boo-boos.

Books, people. Books.

James tagged me. This is a great Q&A about books. I dig books. You can learn all sorts of things from them and they'll never talk back. They'll never tell you it's a bad idea to have another scoop of ice cream. They'll never say those pants aren't working out for you.

A book I've read more than once? The Witch of Blackbird Pond. I read that when I was a kid about 5x. More recently I've read The Tipping Point twice. (check out Blink, too, it's excellent.)

What book would I want on a desert Island? James and his buddy had a very good point - you should take a book that makes you into MacGuyver. You know, how to build a raft and get rescued with only dental floss, a toothpick, and a roll of tape. As logically sound as that plan is, I'd prefer something more literary. How about Fury by Salman Rushdie.

A book that made me laugh? Big Trouble by Dave Barry. A story that takes place in Miami that actually makes me chuckle. You know that's good.

A book that made me cry? The Time Traveller's Wife. Thanks, Kristie. ;-) At the end of this book the cover art takes on a whole new glorious beauty. Oh, and Extremely Loud And Incredibly Close by Jonathan Safran Foer is amazing. A Brooklyn boy writes a gorgeous tale of love, loss and learning that makes a Brooklyn girl swoon. Um, that girl is me.

A book I wish I'd written? A Girl's Guide To Hunting And Fishing by Melissa Bank. Poignant, timely, timeless, real. You should check out her second novel called The Wonder Spot, too.

A book I wish had never been written? The Rules - that ridiculous book for women about how to catch and keep a man. GAG ME. Burn copies of this book. No, don't actually burn them, but please, PLEASE, my sisters - don't buy this drivel. I'm not even linking to it because I'd feel dirty.

A book I'm currently reading? I have 8 pages to go in Margaret Atwood's The Handmaid's Tale. It's terrifying and so so so good.

A book I've meant to read? War And Peace. Seriously.

A book that changed my life? The Colossus of New York by Colson Whitehead. It's brilliant. He's brilliant. This city is amazing. This city is always the same. This city is always changing.

Grrr

I really am all for religious expression. Seriously. Do whatever it is you do to feel closer to whatever higher power you feel guides you.

There are only minor caveats to this theory. #1 - Don't expect me to join in the fun (ie. Don't knock on my door or hand me pamphlets on the subway.) #2 - Don't infringe upon my personal space with your religiosity (ie. Don't come sit down next to me on the subway and preach loudly despite the very clear do-no-disturb sign of my iPod headphones, do not shove the afore-mentioned pamphlets into my chest... I don't dig on Jews for Jesus or Jehovah's Witnesses so back the hell off.).

#2 refers to personal space. Personal space, in my estimation, includes my eardrums. So, if you are being loudly religious/possessed/moved by the almighty... chances are you gonna piss mama off. Like today, for example. Today I'm not feeling so hot. Tummy feeling icky (I swear since the endoscopy I've been a gas factory even when I haven't eaten anything, ugh.), head's aching, general malaise stemming from stress in addition to physical symptoms. That said, I'm trying to take it easy. Real easy. Like nap or lay around all afternoon.

It's hard to do that when people are out on my street chanting, playing tambourines, screaming, singing, walking around with chickens in their grasp (uh huh), and basically being so loud that I can distinctly hear them with my bedroom door closed and my air conditioner on. My room is at the very back of the house. Those people are freaking loud. And no, this is not just some cultural difference. West Indian people being loud annoy me just as much as American people being loud. Loud by any other name sound as noisy. Ask Willy Shakes, he'll tell you.

Here's a hint, people on my street - whatever god you pray to doesn't want you to piss Melissa off. It's not part of "his plan". Trust me on this one.

zonk

I'm going to take a long, long nap. I've just gotten back from the doctor's office where he did an endoscopy to see what's wrong with my digestive tract. See that black tube right there? That was all down my throat, into my stomach and the top of my small intestine this morning.

So far I've got (boy, do I wish this list were fake!) acid reflux, a hernia at the base of my stomach, irritable bowel syndrome and a vitamin deficiency. Awesome! In a couple weeks I have to have a colonoscopy. What fun! In the mean time I get to go get more blood work done, go to a lab and crap in a jar, then schedule more time off from work. This is fantastic. Oh yeah, I have to pick up Zantac, Metamucil and some probiotic supplement that's supposed to regulate the function of my intestines. He thinks I might have ciliac disease and perhaps something worse than IBS. I'm starting to think this is what it must have been like for Jess in the beginning before all her awful intestinal stuff happened.

I've never had anesthesia before today and I gotta tell ya - it's weird. I'm really hoping that when I drifted off to dreamland I didn't say anything about the doc's hideous tie. I was thinking about how ugly his tie was when I passed out and I've got a funny feeling I said something to him about it.

But really, someone who loves him should have taken some action. Don't let your loved ones leave the house looking a mess. It's cruel.

I'm off to sleep for a good few hours. Oh, and fart. I'm sure I'll fart a lot. I feel like they practically inflated me with that scope! I'm all full of bubbles. Yuck.

It's my birthday...

aren't I supposed to be happy and having fun, celebrating another year on the planet? Someone who loves me is on his way to my apartment. That's exactly what I need right now. These past couple of weeks have left me feeling empty and hollowed out. This weekend has built me up and torn me back down again. It's a rough road right now, ladies and gents. I'm going to be fine. That's how it works - things go to shit and in the end you find a way to make it all OK. But right now it's bumpy and I'm feeling achy and tired.