Tuesday, March 27, 2007

Medical musings

With all this recall going on over at the diner, it really got me thinking about my own past, you know, before I retired, and I was trying to recall my 10+ years as a nurse. In a way, I suppose it was like working at an all night diner, though instead of food, though I did occasionally serve that as well, all too often it was orders for "a Tylenol sandwich with a side order of Sudafed" or several orders for "a nurse's white Russian" (Milk of magnesia in warmed prune juice, also called a "Prunelatta" just in case you were wondering). Occasionally, as I said, it was real food, like PB&J, soup, cereal, oatmeal, ice cream, and the occasional handmixed frappe. Occasionally, I got to play bartender for a few of them as they often had bedtime orders for anything as simple as a Coors light, to a shot of cognac in warm milk, to a Cape Codder for one unusual lady.
Make no mistake, I'm glad I retired, but the patients were fun. One used to seranade me as soon as I got to work. A good number that used to be there were quite blunt individuals and didn't like it when folks tried to sugar coat anything. I remember one used to say, "None of us are going anywhere from here except in the box and I'm not in a rush!" Another used to talk about our frequent visits from the local undertakers, referring to "stretchers and bags." The way she made it sound, anyone who didn't know better, would have thought she was referring to some kind of Goth version of "Chutes and Ladders" (or Snakes and Ladders as I've also heard it called). And people think I'm strange.

Thursday, March 15, 2007

Getting Outta Dodge



From what I've seen in my cards of late, I think that my feathered pals and I really ought to leave N- this city, and soon. Claude, if you're reading this, I think getting outta town, if not out of state would be a good idea for you as well, and not just on account of "old friends" who might show up. Don't worry the birds are safe with me. I have a nice rooftop all picked out in-- another city, a safe distance from here. You're more than welcome to join us. This city might not be as large as the one we're in but it does have a couple universities, several decent bars, and plenty of pockets to pick- I mean rich folks who need to be relieved of their excess wealth. There's even a good size Walmart, and I know you like Walmart. As for exactly where, I don't wanna say, you never know who's monitoring this, but, if my instincts about you are right, given the name of where we are going, you might feel like you're almost home there, despite it's lack of a proper "futbol" team (as in what most Yanks call soccer). You could steal yourself a plane-ride to it's local and growing airport. It's also not far from my old friends Dan Webster, Bob Frost, and Al Shepherd. Unfortunately, the "Old Man" is no longer about. He had a bad (and fatal) fall off his white mountain.

Tuesday, March 13, 2007

I have the strangest dreams

I've come to the realization that it's Claude I've seen in my dreams and drawn. That makes sense but the rest of it, Claude, if you can make any sense of this chaos, I'd appreciate the help!
(pictures done with the help of a decent graphics program.)


Anyway, the first dream I had was strange but then it got creepy. I saw Claude but he was clean shaven and he was wearing this 19th century outfit with suspenders. I saw him rushing around grabbing some books then I saw him grab a hammer and chisel. I wanted to know what he was doing, and if I could help, and I saw him working on this huge granite block. As I got closer I could see it was a gravestone but I woke up before I could read the name.



When I went back to sleep, it just got more surreal. I found myself in some big fancy building and I could hear like psychedelic music in the background and everyone was wearing clothes from like 1969. Someone said we were in Paris at this American Ambassador's place. Claude showed up and he had like shoulder length hair. He hands me this pillowcase full of feathers and tells me to dump it over the railing on the Ambassador and his guests.


I'm about to do so when I see that Nathan Petrelli is down among the guests. I'm turn to ask Claude why we're doing this, but he's walked off. So I follow him. I had to run to catch up. As he goes thru this doorway, he changes. His hair is now short and he's wearing a much more modern outfit, from like maybe a couple years ago.




I look around, and we seem to be in a Police Station, but it's under construction. Someone that I don't know showed up with a bowl of pasta and tried to give it to Claude but I tell him it's a bad idea. So we leave together, this time. As he passes thru another doorway, Claude's appearance changes again. His hair gets even shorter, almost a military-type cut, his jacket, that he'd had on when we arrived, changes from this light brown suede one to a deep dark chocolate brown beat up leather one.

Claude turns to me and tells me to warn Nathan Petrelli to stay away from severely overweight politicians and is about to elaborate on why, when these zombies in gas masks show up and are asking if I'm their mother. Then I woke up.

And this is part of why I don't do drugs. Real Life is confusing and stange enough without them!