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frazzled and bedazzled
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You'll Probably Want to Skip What Follows
 I'm at that shimmery place between pre-menstrual and menstrual. Consequently, I want to:
  • Kick something
  • Have a good laugh
  • Sleep
  • Eat chocolate
  • Have a thorough work out or run
  • Kick something else
  • Drink 'til I'm stupid (stupider?)
  • Curse.  A lot. 
  • Carve out my abdomen and not let it back until it behaves in a more team-like manner (i.e. stops causing me pain I can do nothing about)
  • Have a massage and a long bath, or maybe a long bath and a massage
  • And oh hell, I'll admit it: perhaps kick one last thing, because it should've known better than to be in my way today





 


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Because I Need a Laugh
I've had a migraine waxing and waning since yesterday morning. Just when I think it's going away, it pops back into the foreground (forehead?). Just when I think it's going to completely flatten me, it backs off enough that I can function. Somewhat.

For cases such as these, the trifecta of (at turns) taking to my bed, taking medicine, and taking a dose of laughter help alleviate the torture.

Here are a few things I've found recently that help with the laughter portion of that prescription:

Women's Porn. Totally safe for work. But you're on your own with explaining why you're laughing.

The Tale of Snow White and the Very Angry Dwarf. No pictures, just a funny and well-told story by [info]rachelmanija about an experience with theatre. She tells a couple of additional theatre stories after this one that are also terrific if you want to dig further into her LJ. (I've recommended her memoir All the Fishes Come Home to Roost before, but no harm in mentioning it again, right?)

What Shamu Taught Me About a Happy Marriage. I believe it's time that a word is invented in English that describes the sensation of being equal parts amused and appalled. I've experienced that sensation more and more as I've coasted around the internet; people really are amazing. Anyway, whatever that word will be, all I can ask is that it's better than "blog" (such a terrible word, "blog". Bleh.) This Shamu story is the embodiment of that to-be-invented word. (Appused? <--no, that's too similar to "accused". Amalled? <-- no, that's got to be for something like getting sucked into spending time at a mall for several hours more than your worst nightmares would ever envision. Hmmm....more thinking is required here. Just not today.)

And finally, a YouTube link that is safe for work, sorta': Minnie Mouse Sex Scandal. How unsurprised am I that this took place in France? Which is not to say I couldn't see it happening elsewhere, it's just that it's so *perfect* that it took place in France, somehow.

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Princess Strokenham
Name: Princess Strokenham
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We die containing a richness of lovers and tribes, tastes we have swallowed, bodies we have plunged into and swum up as if rivers of wisdom, characters we have climbed into as if trees, fears we have hidden in as if caves. I wish for all this to be marked on my body when I am dead. I believe in such cartography -- to be marked by nature, not just to label ourselves on a map like the names of rich men and women on buildings. We are communal histories, communal books. We are not owned or monogamous in our taste or experience.

--Michael Ondaatje, The English Patient
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