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September 5, 2015

The Akattemy Award: Best Actor


Marlon Brando used to be my favorite actor.  Then Erik Nicolaisen tied with him as my favorite.  Then I saw this commercial:

Press this link.
This is me laughing so hard that I fell off the futon:  
It's official:  Erik Nicolaisen, you are my favorite actor. 
1996.
 Erik defied jock stereotypes by being not only the coolest guy in school, but also the kindest.  

Poppies on the Outside, Opiates on the Inside

This is seriously the most comfortable shirt I've ever worn in my life, and this is coming from someone who works in her pajamas. 
I tried to get all the letters, but my boobs weren't cooperating,
This is the first shirt.  There was a tear in the collar, so I sent a snarky email wanting a refund, and the response I got referred to my email as something an angry customer would send K-Mart.  For some reason, that's one of the funniest things I've heard in my life.  But, behind the laughter, I felt terrible.  I would rather slit my throat than be mean.  

Another shirt was sent, and now that I'm stuck at home recovering from knee surgery, I just rotate the two.  You didn't know that I had knee surgery?  Yeah, almost one did.  I hate being taken care of.  

Besides, the only thing I really need at this point are hugs.  So far, I've had two today, so I'm good.  I've been working on being more physically affectionate in the past few months, learning to trust that no one is going to hurt me.  (Men haven't been exactly "kind" to me in the past.)  In fact, the first thing I did when I came out of surgery was bolt up and yell, "Hug!!!", then held out my arms whimpering until a nurse came over.  

The painkillers- those were terrifying.  I needed them at first, but then I desperately wanted to pour the whole bottle in my mouth and live forever in a walking coma.  I nearly had to rip my own arm off to flush them down the toilet.  Now I miss them and wish I could crawl down the plumbing to find them.  Bad smells make me vomit, but I would literally wade through human shit for opiates.  It's been nearly a decade since I was on the yam yam, playing pincushion with my chubby, zombie limbs, yet I'm still so vulnerable.

At first, I didn't feel anything from the painkillers.  Then I noticed that my knee didn't hurt as much.  Around that time, I started falling asleep in the bathroom, dreaming about pants.  Within two days, my skin had claw marks all over from scratching myself, and I looked like I had two black eyes.  That was when I was taking only half as prescribed.  Then one night, it was so sudden.  I was holding the bottle, and it looked like a warm abyss that I desperately wanted to jump into.  If this could happen to me, is no one spared?   

That was several days ago, and now I just take Tylenol and sleep as much as I can.  I wish there were matching pants for this shirt.  It's from a band though.  I had a "thing" with the singer, but we decided that we were no longer into me. 

Those are poppies on the front.  Huh...no wonder I find it so comfortable.