me and me and way too much me.

i see friends this time of year who i haven't seen in a long time, and you're supposed to encapsulate your life and it's hard. i feel like my life is a string of media i have consumed, days of work, weed smoked, beer drank drunk, hilarious IMing, and weird private thoughts. nothing changes except that i can talk about more books or movies.

but this is a lie, all this shit changes all the time. this year i got hearing aids. i can hear now at work, in meetings. still not as well as other people, but not such an outsider because of missing huge amounts of conversation. i have leftover anger at the manner of the people who sold me the hearing aids, and at the amount of money they cost. but i was able to buy them, and a lot of people could not have, and i'm so happy to have them. and i was worried about dealing with people's shit around disability, but it is so not an issue, to the extent that i know i am still an ignorant asshole myself around tons of disability issues.

this year i found out my cat nick is going to die. i knew it would happen one day but honestly, i didn't really believe it. his kidneys are failing. i am doing what i can to keep him having a normal life for as long as he can, giving him medicine and mixing special food. it's both mundane and horrid, like all sick care. it's caused me to think a lot about the single women with cats discourse that happens through jokes. it's never bothered me at all, to be made fun of for something awesome about myself. it feels like when you're a kid and people make fun of you for being a big reader--good one, retard. but i've been thinking about what it means, how it makes people mad if you choose to go home to yourself and pets, and you don't make fun of yourself for it, you're not seeking to be in a couple, this isn't a temporary stop. these somehow built-in, commonly known jokes about women/cats want to belittle and pathologize women who go home to animals only, and like it. and there definitely is something different about the emotional life of someone who spends the end of every day, after work when you are most yourself, with their animals, as opposed to their animals and somebody else. it's a closeness that makes it so that i hear about people who have kids and then want to get rid of their animals for convenience, and i wonder how we are the same species. i know that when nick dies i will be torn raggedly apart and be a different person for the rest of my life, and i will be overwhelmed with lloyd's grief. and maybe have to get another cat for her? i don't know. i can't know yet. it's too much, and there's not a thing i can do to make it less.

this year i found out i have borderline diabetes, and have to change how i shop/cook/eat/relate to my body. i have to deal with some old eating disorder shit and put that behind me. this finally, after some reading, all seems doable and okay. what did i find here to be pissed about? firstly, the fact that this body stuff that should be strictly about health has to be so goddamned twisted in my mind because of widespread hatred of fat women (which is really about all of us because it includes the always looming threat for thin women that they will be/are getting fat). secondly, the fact that the best and least intimidating exercise experiences i know of cost a lot of $. please don't say in a bright voice "you can walk" or some other basic thing to me. i won't even get visibly mad, i'll just not talk to you about anything complex or real again.

this year i took a yoga class. i liked it a lot. my body feels old in the past year or 2, my back and knees fucked up, and i have less flexibility. i loved the class, its time and its location meant i actually went to it. it is too fucking expensive for me to continue to take.

this year i started doing the prison book project every few weeks on sunday afternoons. i love it and i'd like to go more often this year. often i don't go because of hangovers. i don't regret this, because most of my hangovers are from really funny and awesome nights with people whose company i find very fulfilling. i love the prison book project. it is something political i can do. i can't do a lot of shit because being in a democratic centralist trotskyist org for some years made me kind of crazy about listening to long statements from men or anyone in their twenties. i've done my time hearing that shit. i like to read political stuff, but i can't be in those meetings. so, mailing books to women in prison makes me really really happy. and i cannot get enough of shopping for, stacking, shelving, even just carrying books. this lets me be on the lookout for free books and $1 books and put them to good use, which satisfies a bunch of needs i have.

this year i've worried about my friends who need jobs. i'd like that to be resolved this year, and i think it will be.

this year, hilariously enough, i went off anti-depressants. so fucking funny after all the above. it's recent, and so far it's okay.

next year. up and up and up. i'm going to make a lot of shit and figure shit out. particularly about nick's nose and why it tastes like a salty love demon who crawled up my butt and made me feel for the first time. i'll investigate why lloyd's toes make the man in the moon weep, his tears stupid creamy slaps upon the earth. i'm going to put a bird in your hair and salt its tail. right now i am going to work on making a game for tonight.

scenes with old gregg in the club to be filmed at luke's place, obv

My huge money-making and world-improving idea is this how about a Mighty Bush porn. Lookalike actors and I'm thinking maybe the Mighty Bush is located in Vince's hair? And they go exploring it and everyone does it with each other, and Old Gregg is there and we find out how Naboo does it even though he's smooth and also what? what!? Eric from True Blood is here?! Yes, he is, okay? He tops one and all and it's neither safe nor sane nor consensual but guess what it rules and Bollo is not part of this erotic adventure film, we just don't have the budget. We do have enough budget for lots of Vince outfits, howev. @deadathome set up auditions at my place? thanks

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Cats do sin but their sins are forgiven immediately. It is best to get a cat to do all your sinning for you. For instance this is why I always signal Nick to make the first tendyr move.

If I had a TV show I couldn't be sick like this, for this long. What would happen? Some guest host would come and replace me and be more popular than I am. Probably James would go on and sing Physical and get the highest ratings ever.

I put my lips upon a candy-coated nutria name of Nick. He tasted of bliss.
nake cat

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Dr. Cox was on the Bonnie Hunt show with very deliberate curls and glossy ultramarine eyes. He had some shirt on about "count down to the day, erase the word." Or something. Tito and I already hated it before knowing what it was, clearly some bizarre charity thing. They teased us that after the commercial break, he'd clear it all up for us. Okay. Um, it's a day to get rid of "the R word." And Cox talked about his Down Syndrome son and Bonnie Hunt talked about some kid in her neighborhood growin up who had DS and she was like "People cannot understand the love. They are ALL about love. It's just really intense, pure love." He agreed. Then he got super righteous and was like "If you pick on this group, of all groups, you are a coward. Because you've chosen the one group who is not gonna give it back. They don't have it in 'em." And she was like "It's true, it's just so much pure love. Humans don't know to handle it." Then he really angrily, like he seemed super pissed at me personally, said "They don't know this" and made an airpunch like he was gonna come through my screen "They only know this" and did some kind of indignant hug. This entire thing. My god.

The worst part was Tito's grateful tears as we watched. "FINALLY SOMEONE STANDS UP FOR ME WHAT A SUPWISE TANK YOU DOCTAH COX TANK YOU" and lots of trying to hug me with his arms and legs and t-strength. As always, I'm the Turk and he is the JD.