Early Morning Visceral Disturbances

grumble.....


talk about your weird hours...it's 5:49 am. i'm sick as a d.o.g.! my mom insisted on my wearing one of her silky nightgowns since i've been sweating profusely. i am now a "Bonniette." i told her this; she didn't find it funny. the nightgown is very sheer and feels good except for the lacy shit around the collar. it makes my nipples look very strange.

well, my good ol' crohn's disease is acting up. (ok everybody: "what's crohn's??")

well, i could tell you what the basic definition of this condition is...crohn's disease is an autoimmune disease of the intestines, both small and large...they don't know where it comes from (of course) but it's thought to be a combo of genetic and environmental factors. a friend told me that it's been linked to children of vietnam vets.

crohn's causes pain, not limited to but including the tummy. it can bring on arthritis (my whole body fucking hurts), anemia (esp. if you're bleeding internally), lots of running to the bathroom, strange demons that pass thru your body, exiting dramatically (each with their own torch song) via your ass. stress apparently makes things worse (como se dice "stress?" lol).

what could it be, then? it could be my fantastic eastern european semite ancestry (jews tend to get this more than non-jews..), it could be dear ol' dad's exploits with agent orange during the tet offensive (great timing, huh?)...it could be that i just don't eat right and my bowels are rebelling...and i know for a fact that cigarettes are making it worse.

i had surgery. on january 30, 1998, they removed my gallbladder, appendix, and 3 feet of small intestine, roughly. my surgeon was cool as hell, he visited me every day. i had an abcess on my appendix, apparently "the size of a golf ball." (those docs know golfballs!) i don't remember much besides a cool morphine dream, my mom washing my hair, my ex and his mom rubbing my feet, adam coming from mexico, and eating apple pie. i have a scar that runs from just below my boobies to just below my belly button on my already hideous-looking stomach.

there's no cure, just "remission." i hear it makes childbearing rather interesting-- yet another fine and valid reason not to breed.

i'm not feeling sorry for myself. i just feel like everyone else is going through this too, at least in some form or another. everyone has immune problems, some worse and more distinct than others.

fellas, i'm not contagious...lol.

i hate being up at 6am though. this nightgown is too weird...i feel like a scarey old lady who's in charge of an orphanage. my bones feel crumbly, my tendons and muscles are shrieking. my mum's boi friend is coming today. time for some professional hiding schemes!

ow.

"there's too much wrong with you," shawn the leprechaun used to tell me. "you have too many problems." i know he just wanted a simple girl who worked the checkout at pathmark, had a golden retriever and a sister and parents, loved the beatles and johnny depp, wanted to ride horses and sing "the wind beneath my wings" at a talent show. this girl would have a slight bad-girl reputation but really will have only slept with like, 1 other person. she will have a tattoo on her lower back that involves flowers or vines or both. she will wear a 32-C and have washboard abs. her favorite food will be spaghetti. she will be so uncomplicated, so unmoody and so healthy, inside and out. she'll never even get a single headache.

oh well, at least she doesn't exist...*nervous laugh*

i guess i don't present as being such a screw-job. it just reveals itself bit by bit until i'm stuck in a room at 6:25am on a saturday morning in my mother's house, alone, wearing a creepy nightgown. i am going to die this way. i am going to die in here in pennsylvania. they're going to see how grotesque i look in this nightgown, and they're going to have to cut it off of me anyway, and they'll notice i haven't shaved my legs or even trimmed my bikini area and they'll see my huge scarred belly and they'll laugh and laugh. they won't find me until they smell spaghetti and horses.

shawn'll have recurrent dreams of fucking my corpse. he'll dream of sticking himself in my skull and wake up feeling refreshed and go off to work in a fine mood. he'll have fantasies of raking off my skin in his fingers, tearing out clumps of my hair in his mouth, chewing off my lips, spitting them back at my face. doing other awful things and leaving me in a dumpster, knowing i'll never scream.

woah...that got all "Naked Lunch." sorry.

i just feel really abject. i never feel more like ground beef like i do when i'm sick. it's not a dignified sickness. you won't find me "doing the best i can." i know my mother's bf (who could be my little brother) is going to tell me i'm "really brave" even though he resents me for being around. i know they both wish to god that i was out getting stoned and laid like a normal person.

ok! my mind and body are both degenerating, clearly. theo, i thank you from the bottom of my heart for wondering if i was a spicy tuna roll...it's the nicest thing anyone's said to me in ages! :D

amy, hope you had fun in sweden.

adam, hope you get to read this. hope pratt is going well. love to connie.

sean, you workaholic. what ever happened to beer and excessive sleep? you're letting the members of your cult down!!

chris, have a great weekend and a great time in chicago.

azeem, sorry for not calling back. i'm not this much of a jerk, usually. we will talk!!

to everyone else...have a goodnight, a good morning, a fantastic weekend and a life full of love and wonder, and spaghetti girls.