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.
Tuesday, March 27, 2007
Medical musings
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
(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!
Friday, February 16, 2007
Totally hip escape
"She was like totally bumming me out. I think she went outside or something," I tell her.
The female Elvi just shakes her head and rejoins the rest of her group.
I leave for the bus station, and am totally unnoticed. I get a ticket for Odessa, Texas. Hardly anyone on the bus pays me any mind, which is just fine by me. I am totally craving those waffles from the Burnt Toast Diner. I'm hoping that Claude is at the Diner when I get there as well as some of the other regulars. I won't even get mad if Claude picks my pocket... Of course, that's not where the bulk of my travel funds are anyway ; ) I gotta remember to ask Claude if those avatar pics he uses are actually him, for two reasons: 1) I gotta wonder how you photograph an invisible person & 2) he reminds me of someone that I've seen somewhere before...
Wednesday, February 14, 2007
Elvis Conspiracy?

Ok, so, I was supposed to go to
So I leave the casino, debating what to do next, and who do I run into, but Elvis. No, not the real King, but one of the numerous impersonators. And he hit on me. Mind you, I’m dressed Goth and look like a cross between Velma Dinkley and Abby Sciouto. The real kicker is the shirt I have on says “Better to have loved and lost than to be stuck with the psycho the rest of your life.” And Elvis hits on me. I walk away and he tries to serenade me. I run. Then another Elvis, this one much less convincing, one block away, starts. I manage to ditch him.
Then this snob couple is like staring at me so I yell, “Take a picture! It’ll last longer!” And I’m convinced that I’ve scared them off when another Elvis shows up!
“Hands and eyes off the King’s Lady!” he shouts. I reply, “I can handle myself and I ain’t your lady!” Then he starts crooning “Let me be your teddy bear,” and I wanna hurl. He looks the part, but can’t sing for nothing.
So I bolt. I finally manage some decent luck and lose the Elvi. Then I realize I’m in a computer store and buy a lap top, so I can veg at the airport until the plane arrives and gets me the blazes outta here. I swear it's some kind of conspiracy or something!
So, to relax, at the airport, I log onto my blog and do a bit of net surfing. Just when I’m starting to wish that I was invisible, I remember there was another blogger who had something to do with that. I do a search and I find “The Invisible Prophet,” which belongs to a man who calls himself Claude. He’s a very amusing and crafty individual. He occasionally shows up at the Burnt Toast Diner, which is where I wanna go anyway. If I read some of his posts right, he’s invisible. I wonder if he can hide others. I sure could have used his help with the Elvi. I bet he’s seen all kinds of neat stuff. Hey, maybe he knows where I can find the guy I drew. I sure hope he’s at the diner, when I get there and doesn’t mind dealing with a Goth-chick retired nurse…
Tuesday, February 13, 2007
A good reading...and some art


Monday, February 12, 2007
Texas?
I'm also thinking I should hitch a ride to Texas. There's this great diner there that I keep hearing about. I think I need to be there. I hear they allow dogs too. That's kinda neat.