alex has been and gone

He complained of a tummy ache the entire time he was here. “You are experiencing anxiety. If this was a real illness you’d be fucking hurling,” this is not what I said, I just wanted to sound like the Batman of grandmas to my 30 readers. Instead I said, “You’re concerned about Ryker, but your mother is doing all the right things, and he’s going to be fine.” I mean, he’s fine right now, he just may need some some surgical tweaking, I’ve had surgery, you know, it’s not an uncommon thing. So I am proceeding as I’ve done so far. It’s in the best hands in the world, my role is to be supportive and otherwise free of opinion, and I need to work on my grandma skills, ha ha.

He quit complaining, and fired it up again when his mother appeared. This is like watching three generations of children in one precious bundle. THEN HE PLAYED PLANTS VS ZOMBIES WHILE KATIE AND I ATTEMPTED TO CATCH UP WHILE yEllING aDViCe at him. It’s a damned good thing pOp wasn’t listening, he’d probably laugh until he cried. WE TOOK AIM — I TELL YOU — AT KEEPING A COHERENT CONVERSATION GOING but it did not happen. We hydrated and mocked our conditions. Then went back to tag teaming yelling strategy and tactics at Alex, who appeared to all the world to be enjoying himself, talking himself into additional games while Katie and I flopped in the blessed cool.

Jeff is best of brOs, he got me a device which takes jacks from both recording inputs and headphone jacks so I can hear what the hell is happening in the Kaossilator as I’m recording, something I haven’t been able to do since the second last Mac died. (It had completely different input jacks and there was something else that was different but of course… I do not remember. Something about being configured to deal with Garageband. I think. Do not test me on this, I’ll only cry.)

I wrote a letter to Alex. I put it in an envelope. I didn’t seal or stamp it. He immediately ripped it out of the envelope and threw the envelope on the floor. The only word that tripped him up was Kaossilator, so I told him what that was, then he finished reading it and said ‘Awwww’ like I’d handed him a puppy. My god, he is one of the most convincingly manipulative people I’ve ever met.

Cazart, I should do a backup.

Alex did some more art, he did letter art since I handed him a bunch of different stencils and he took it with him so you know he put some sweat into it. I just got the miniature shapshifters.

I think he’s happy it’s air-conditioned at GG and Grunkle Jeff’s house. But you know he was having too good a time to comment except to say that we weren’t going outside.

Now I gotta make supper it’s hours since I said I would.

Alex today

It’s 8 am and the air conditioner ran all night, and today’s supposed to be worse.

976 words

Buster is easily startled thanks to the construction across the street. We’re trying to be extra nice to him, not that that’s hard.

Here’s a blast from the past (made while I was still working for Planetkiller Enterprises™)

I have lots of thoughts and feelings but I’m going to sit on them until they’re large enough to hatch.

New poem – privilege

but i don’t want to wait through this iteration of this sequence of derangements

i want a room with a door i can shut, a privy i don’t have to clean every day

and the rest is whatever else you want for a socialist paradise

what ho introversion! you give me all my best moments, the times when i can

lovingly and laboriously think about all this stuff before i go offline that last time

now i think, bending and bending toward the ground, of my good fortune

the “lucky bitch” invisibly stamped onto all of my life’s accoutrements 

the way i’ve dodged virtually every responsibility thrust upon me so well

that you would think that i was born to it, a rich saxon baron’s wife, who not once

lacked for bread her whole life, no not though the whole world else were starving

 

Here’s a jpeg of the poem, with better font and blocking