Chapter 19 and the F train wormhole

Tonight we're listening to: Sufjan Stevens: Greetings from Michigan, The Great Lake State

A shorthand rendering of the Robinson Annulation - basically a Michael addition followed by an Aldol and the dehydration at the end. Chapter 19 was the most beautifully brutal form of Organic punishment.

Three or four years ago (around this time of year) I was collecting dandelions by a creek near my house. After gathering two fistfuls, something in my brain backfired and I decided to take one deep inhale of my assortment. Immediately afterwards, breathing went from difficult to damn near impossible. That was my introduction to seasonal allergies. After about two years of unsuccessfully chasing down allergy doctors, my mother recommended acupuncture. Having been set up with new-age bullshit, holistic medicine, and the like by her before, I decided to go just to shut her up. 

By some grace of whatever happened, the acupuncture actually worked. In three weeks I was allergy free. We even managed to do away with a nasty sinus infection I had been harboring. It was grand. Every year when the spring comes, so do the allergies, but every year they're easier to deal with. Today was the first time this season I went to go get prodded with needles and it was fucking great. 10/10 would get poked again.

I am terrible with directions when it comes to Manhattan. North, South, East, West...they all somehow lose meaning to me, and Broadway runs from orange to shoe as far as I'm concerned. After my appointment, in looking for the Q train I somehow got completely turned around, came upon a street fair, bought some really tasty jam, and found the F train. I am not accustomed to this line past Red Hook, being much more familiar with my old friend the Q. On the train, I read my Orgo textbook and lose track of spacetime, looking up only every so often to see how many stops ago I missed my destination. Because the only train in my experience box is the Q, it's innate within my brain that it goes "Brooklyn, pretty bridge, Manhattan" so I assumed it was the same for the F. This resulted in the physical experience of being wormholed from Mahattanland to destination in what seemed like only half a section on phospholipids. 

Yesterday was an interesting day at work. Typically I use the word interesting very loosely, but today I MEAN it. Firstly, our dryer broke, so I decided to get creative.

Yep. Clotheslines. 

The general reaction was...

Susie: Just like we do back in Jamaica!
Dr. Gray: JUST like we did back in Grenada! 
Elsie: That's just how we did it in Puerto Rico!
Liliana: Wow, just like they do in Italy!

....also exactly what we did in Ukraine and what they do in all third world countries where dryers are not a given. 
In the hospital we had a poor sad beaglet who had ingested an OPEN safety pin. It was very cool looking at the x-rays of it in the colon. Hopefully the poor pup has pooped it out by now! There was also a very sad momma dog who had birthed five or six puppies. Listening to puppies suckle and cry awakens a strangeness within me. I start wanting to nest and cuddle and nurture something, somewhat like the urge I get to crochet myself a fuzzy nest when it gets cold out, which I never do... Creaturelove, I guess. 

Nighty night from the land of adorable happylove.