jamelah.net

Well. Here it is, the end of NaBloPoMo. How do I feel? Tired? Accomplished? Like my life finally — finally — has meaning? Not so much, no. But I did write a post every single day for an entire month, which is a somewhat monumental undertaking in the history of my lazily-maintained website, so there’s that, I guess. Now I don’t know if I’ll keep it up (since it’s become a habit), or if I’ll just go back to being a sporadically-interesting lazy ass. Decisions, decisions.

Anyway, I wasn’t sure how to wind all of this up for you, so I thought I’d just revert to my familiar standby catch-all: the numbered list. Here goes…

1. I have refrained from writing about this for a very long time, but hey, it’s day 30 of NaBloPoMo, so I might as well go out in a blaze of glory. My boobs have gotten bigger and I’m mad at them about it. Since I was 17 or so, they’ve been the same size, and I’ve been perfectly comfortable with them. I guess. I mean, I don’t want to give you the impression that I think about them all the time or anything, because I don’t. My attitude toward my breasts has always been mostly ambivalent, because, well, they’re there, but not, you know, too there. As they should be. But now, I guess they’ve decided that they were tired of not being too there, because, um, they’re apparently attention-seeking bitches. You know, if I were going to have a sudden growth spurt at age 27, I’d have been okay with waking up one morning and being 5′10″ instead of getting ready for work one day and realizing that hey, that shirt doesn’t button across the, uh, chestal region anymore. Bah.

2. So I’ve had this cold since Sunday and I’m a lot better and all, I mean, at least the very high fever is gone, but I have this horrible, unstoppable cough. I think I may be allergic to my office, because when I get there in the morning I’m feeling sort of okay but not great, but by about 10:30 or so, I’m coughing so hard I feel as though my sternum is going to rip through my chest (thereby stealing my boobs’ thunder, I suppose). For the past two days, I’ve had to spend a lot of time with my forehead resting on my desk while I work on hacking up my lungs, which is jolly good fun, y’all. And anyway, today the coughing has caused the most monumental headache I’ve ever had in my entire life. (Except for the one I had right after I got into that car accident with Cletus McGee and my top vertebra was jammed into the base of my skull, because that one lasted for 10 days and wins for all time.) But anyway, every time I cough, I feel as though my eyeballs are going to pop out of my head. I asked my mom if it was possible for me to cough hard enough for my eyeballs to pop out of my head, because it doesn’t seem that illogical, considering the fact that it’s possible for one to cough hard enough to break a rib. She just laughed at me, but I can’t stop thinking about it, and I’ve almost worked myself up into a state of total freakout about it. Comfort me.

3. I have a coat that is a wool/cashmere blend and I like to touch it. Today I put it on when I was leaving work, and when I got in my car, I sat there for a minute, rubbing the hem between my thumb and forefinger, thinking that you know, I’d kind of like to just wear the coat and nothing else. And then I had to change my mind, because there are times when I think things and I wish my brain just hadn’t even gone there. So then I write about them on the internet, naturally.

4. I was talking about this with Caryn last night, but I thought I would bring it to the rest of you. Okay, doesn’t the song “Love Shack” start with “If you see a faded sign at the side of the road that says ‘15 miles to the Love Shack…”? It does, doesn’t it? Yes. It does. So then what? If I see a faded sign at the side of the road that says “15 miles to the Love Shack” then… what? I should go there? I should pull over, dial 911 and wait for assistance? I don’t know! BECAUSE THE SENTENCE NEVER FINISHES. It goes right from the “if” clause to “I’m headin’ down the Atlanta highway lookin’ for the love getaway.” And I know that I’m thinking about it too much, because really what I’m supposed to do is hurry up and bring my jukebox money, but I’m confused. How am I supposed to see the sign anyway? It’s faded and there’s glitter on the highway. I already have a headache because the coughing is going to make my eyes pop out, and this is not helping. Damn you, B-52s.

5. In closing, you know what’s a good time? Trying to get your dog to dance with you to that Gorillaz song “Feel Good Inc.” Especially in stocking feet on linoleum. Because you will be busting your slippery-footed moves and the dog will sit down, cock her head to the side, and look at you like, “What is wrong with you?!?” And then you can say “Come on, dog!” and she’ll go in the other room and lick her ass.

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