Emily Rose, Japanese Food, and Swear Words I Like

Not much to say other than the usual irreverent bullshit! How I love that word, bullshit! Better than carrots and onions and peas, even.

It's hot here in New England, and the sun was so fiery warm even just yesterday that I fear the ozone layer is a thing of the past, much like Jennifer Gray's nose. I dunno, what can I tell you? Ted Cassadine has my real job. Anyway, my brother is about to come over so we can have a lunch at a swell little Japanese place in town. He orders the sushi, I order the fried stuff, and everyone is happy. Raw fish and myself don't really agree, period.

Tonight I usually attend a meeting about an hour away, but think I will use the time to collapse and try to rest in Cruella De Ville's house. Try being the operative word. In a generous gesture, I brought the vaccum cleaner downstairs for her earlier today. I am usually generous, actually. She said "hi" to me so I figured I owed her one! Ha, as if. Yet there is that propulsive, cooperative energy that longs to exist between people. Unless you are on a TV talk show with your relatives, of course.

Anyway, I got absolutely no (*$#(*#$ sleep at all last night because I made the mistake of watching The Exorcism of Emily Rose. Oh, my God -- literally. I had seen it before in the company of a priest (yes! my life is eccentric!) and decided to rent it again. Well, forget about it. I kept the light on ALL NIGHT. All fricking night. This morning I felt like someone had run me over with a mac truck. I wanted to spend the day indoors, doing nothing, but it's impossible for me to rest well there when she's around, so off I went. Now I am here, waiting for the brother, and feeling the usual panicky internal gyrations. You know, the way priests are really frustrated aerobics instructors (Sit...kneel!...stand...sit...Mass is such a vigorous work-out!) Yes, that made no sense, but blogs don't have to! The joy of blogging!

Anywho. I am reading a great haunted house story, Burnt Offerings by Tom Marasco. How I love a good ghost story. I finished reading Julia by Peter Straub (a bit disappointing, but generally pretty darned good), and once in DC I read The Shining during a power outage. I'm crazy, what can I tell ya. So, there it goes.

Not much else to say...keep busy, keep busy. That's my new motto so the worries don't threaten to overwhelm me. Perhaps you can concur.

Avoid watching movies about exorcisms alone, and may your sleep be sweet as a baby's.