Bluegrass Gothic

If you're having trouble getting up the nerve to cut your wrists, I recommend listening to the Be Good Tanya's Chinatown.

The CD includes,

Two songs about drug addiction.

One song about a dead pet.

Two songs about broken relationships.

One song about either a miscarriage or a deeply regretted abortion.

Actually, it's a good CD in an eerie, depressive, alt-bluegrass kind of way, but not for the faint-hearted. It could be a great CD if the lead singer could learn to ennunciate. I'm more than a little impressed that a bunch of young alt-chick Canadians can channel that sex-death-sin desparation seldom heard outside of old-time country music.

Tits up

I had a baseline mammogram several weeks ago. I got the last appointment of the day, carefully scheduled to coincide with the not-so-sensitive part of my cycle, it was lovely and quiet, and the technician was kind of cute. I wouldn't say I enjoyed the manhandling of my parts, but I could imagine enjoying it under different circumstances.

I thought that was the end of it until I got a call telling me to come back in because of "overlapping tissue" that obscured the results and they had to do it again. Phooey. And, because I'm that kind of person. I spent lots of time getting all paranoid until I did enough looking on the web to determine that mammograms for pre-menopausal women are kind of weird. Our breast tissue is firm and gives funky results and that kind of calmed me down until I got all paranoid again. I can never entirely shake the feeling that medical tests are like school tests, retakes = bad.

So, today I was in Cape Cod Breast Care Center again. It's crowded and stuffy and I'm wearing a smock that barely covered my boobs, looking at the eight other women jockeying for the seven chairs, all in smocks that barely covered their boobs.

I hadn't known what I'd been missing out on when I scheduled my appointment before during a quiet time. You could write a one-act play based on conversations in a breast care center waiting room, and someone should. Topics covered included the Pope, children, why Cape Codders are such whiners and a gross recipe out of Real Simple. You could randomly record conversations all over the country in all kinds of different waiting rooms and you'd have the whole pulse of the nation right there.

Then it was my turn. I'm in the hurty sensitive part of my cycle and the technician had the technique and looks of a lunch lady. My left boob completely refused to cooperative. Oh boy. It's not like this is a Polaroid. I have to get my tit shoved around like mystery meat, get the X Rays taken and then sit out in the waiting room, only to be told that it needs to be done again. Bad left tit. Bad!

Finally. We got decent images and the doc tells me I'm all set, no sign of any abnormality, don't need to come back for five years unless I have a problem. Hurray! No one could be happier, even if I do still want to see a one-act play set in a breast care waiting room.

More Japanese Horror

We watched Shikoku the other night. I got completely sucked in as the female lead returns to the small island community where her family lived before they moved to Tokyo. Everything is still the same or at least it looks that way at first, but she's changed and no longer belongs. It hit a lot of my moving back to Cape Cod buttons. I generally hate remakes, but I'd love to see an American version of this movie set on Cape Cod.

Judging by some of the online reviews I pulled up, most people were disappointed in the movie. I can see why. In many ways, it's more of a psych piece with some horror added for flavoring and it lacks the "tightness" of a really good horror piece. But I still want to see that remake.

Never mind.

It looks like this was for an April Fool's Day issue.

Under Construction

Route 6A between the Barnstable/Yarmouth line and Barnstable Village is a dire stretch of potholes and cracked asphalt. For several springs in a row, they've been patching things together with spit and gravel and the whole mess falls apart again the following winter.

This year they're really doing it right. Major patches of road have been scraped down to the sublayer, new asphalt is being put down and the work seems to be moving pretty quickly.

The current road delays are a bitch, but I'm looking forward to not wondering if my car will make it every time I drive to the Dolphin.

Meow

Without even thinking about it, I can think of four local businesses with resident cats.

Our local animal hospital has a cat named Harry.

A Gathering Place in East Dennis on 6A has a resident cat.

Napi's always has cats hanging around outside.

Hart Farms Nursery in Dennis has resident cats.

What can I say? I'm a cat geek. The only reason I'm not a crazy cat lady is because the Significant Other brings me down to earth.

Does having the flu make you high?

Right now I'm sick. I have a fever, I'm tired and I'm incredibly hungry. If it goes the way it did for the Significant Other, this will last for several days and then turn into a lingering head cold.

I'm also high as a kite. While at work, I was burbly and bubbly and talked non-stop to my co-workers. While at the post office. I made inane jokes and social chitchat. I never do that shit.

How do I bottle this and bring it out when it'd be useful?

Hi Sweetie!

Men? The title of this post is never an acceptable way to introduce yourself.

Nevah, evah, EVAH.

Especially not in the library and not to a woman who could be your daughter for crissakes.