DLand - Booze and a Crystal Phallis

“It's the 1 percent fringe society members that don't want to be part of society.”- Vincent Cannito, Las Vegas Metropolitan Police Department

When I wake up at 1:30am after drinking half a bottle of mead and several beers, my mouth makes me think I spent Saturday night licking the litter box rather than drinking and schmoozing. Jerome and Tina were in town this weekend and I got to hang out with them for a bit. Most of my Saturday was spent moving (still ... again ... whatever). When Jeremy called at 5:30 to invite me to dinner, I was covered in cut grass, sweat, dust and whatever stuff was in the fridge that should have been thrown away long ago and definitely shouldn't make the trip to the new house. By 7, I had moved the last of my stuff from apartment to house and had managed to find clean underwear and toiletries enough to look presentable for the evening. We had some scrumptious seafood and mead and a bit of steak and mead and some roasted red potatoes and mead. All very tasty. I'm all jealous of Jerome's mead skills (and supplies). By 8:30 we were all very drunk. Tina gave me a tarot reading (of which I only remember the names of the three cards and that she looked into my eyes several times and said “but there are flowers”). She also gifted me with a two inch long crystal penis. That's real friendship. Or at least I hope that was friendship and not some kinky pagan pickup line. All I know is it was alarming to find it in the pocket of my shorts the next afternoon while checking out at Food Lion. By 11pm or so, I had fallen asleep on the loveseat in much the same position my dog had when she slept on that loveseat - feet in the air and back twisted with head hanging off the side. I was probably snoring. It had been a long day. I vaguely remember being moved to a bedtype surface. I think I still had my glasses on. I just remember waking up with cat box mouth and very low blood sugar and the distinct desire to go home and let my dog outside. All in all, a pretty good evening. Sunday was spent organizing my life and washing the dog (she had found something fun to roll in earlier). My brother is in a state of transition right now too where he might move in with his girlfriend or might not or might move in general or might not. Ah, indecision. So it seems everyone and everything in the GenieAlisa household is shifting. My brother and I are sorting out which dishwasher goes where and how to get my fridge in the house and who needs the lawnmower right now. Nothing is ever simple. Nothing ever changes.

DLand - The Book Was Called "Foolscap"

There was this girl in the airport last night. Woman, I suppose, but it's hard to tell. She was curled up in one of the sets of three seats with her business casual slacks draped over the arm and her not very business casual cartoon socks poking out from underneath. She seemed entranced in the book she was reading, chuckling to herself and chewing on her bottom lip. Looked like she did a lot of reading by the absent way she pushed her small wire-rimmed glasses up the bridge of her nose and tucked the errant strands of hair behind her ear constantly, never taking her eyes off the words on the page.A toddler was running laps around her bench and would occasionally stop to grin and bounce at the edge of her seat, sticky fingers grabbing the crisp pocket of business casual slacks. The little girl would grin up at the big girl and the big girl would grin back as they both said “book” in unison. This was the third book the woman had read in the past two days. She had brought two on her trip, thinking it would hold her but had finished them before she landed in Columbus the day before. This third novel had been purchased out of desperation for something to read during the long layover. The first book was a graphic novel (a “picture book” as her boss called it) but it had text and an ISBN so I thought it should count as a book. That was finished before she even taxied to leave on Wednesday and the second one was a small novella of sorts that was a bit on the dark side. She seems relieved to be reading a humorous novel again (a very humorous novel given her demeanor and grin). Maybe this is what graduate students look like. I know too much about librarians to believe what you see in “The Mummy,” but maybe graduate students have this ability to read six books a week and nod their heads emphatically at no one in particular while perusing obscure references in obtuse novels and plays. I never fancied myself much of a reader compared to others I know. But I have been reading a lot more lately. Maybe I could go to grad school and perfect the look. No, nevermind, shut up. Perhaps I could just look like a grad student but not actually take classes and just read all the good books. It wasn't until I looked up from my novel and noticed my glasses sliding to the end of my nose (again) and my cartoon socks swinging over the edge of the chair that I realized I may already have.

DLand - Counting the Hours 'til the Priority Overnight Delivery

I swear, if it weren't attached to me I would throw this Minimed 508 across the room. I'm sitting here typing away and all of a sudden it freaks out (another medical term) and starts beeping. Ugh. It has been going apeshit (technical term) all day. The woman at Minimed asked if I wanted a replacement or a temporary pump and I could get this one back. I have little to no emotional attachment to this particular pump right now and while it's changed my life for the better, I'm not going to cry when I pack it up tomorrow and send it down the river in favor of the new and improved non-screaming model. In the meantime, I've found a few ideas to work around the inconvenience of these minor insulin pump malfunctions. Eating with other people seems to infuriate the pump. It went off at lunch and dinner right about the time food came to the table. So I should only eat alone.

Don't actually eat anything as that involves using the pump to deliver a bolus which of course sends it into hysterics and requires reprogramming it.

Don't talk on the phone. The pump muse is a jealous muse and basically can't stand me giving attention to anyone but her. Most phone conversations today involved me pausing to tear the pump apart.

Don't keep the pump under the sheets while sleeping as the static may build up under them and cause it to go off.

Don't roll over on the pump while sleeping as the physical contact might cause it to go off.

Don't let the pump fall on the floor while sleeping as the jostling might cause it to go off.

Aw, screw it, just don't go to sleep since you'll already be awake when it goes off anyways and it's easier to reprogram it. I think some lucky FedEx delivery guy is gonna get a big sloppy kiss from me when he brings my new pump in the morning. I can't wait.