Leg Pulling

Saturday, Nov. 15, 2003 - 4:20 a.m.

Shelley, my sister-in-law, who hits the big THREE OH on Sunday, managed somehow to poison herself in the last day or so.

There's a brand of flea collar out there that is activated by pulling on the collar -- and after she pulled it, and installed it around the neck of the intended pet, she forgot, and reached up to her neck and scratched a mosquito bite. That night, she began vomiting, and as of last evening, she and my brother were heading to the emergency room if there was no improvement by sunup today. Gughgh. I hope she feels better soon.

Happy fucking birthday.

---

I bought myself a weensie beensie stocking-stuffer-sized little bottle of Drakkar Noir yesterday. Jamie had repeatedly assured me that this would be an acceptable replacement for Old Spice whenever John finally got tired of that -- and then Paul had it on when he met me at the bus, and it's been imprinted on me ever since.

I tried it on myself -- and have enjoyed the dry down, and been very impressed. It seems to improve as the hours tick by. I'm very happy with the purchase; most perfumes and colognes I ever try to wear end up making me smell like a box of Frosted Flakes, but Drakkar Noir is really nice.

I'd also put a small amount on John -- who was initially very pleased, but then the dry down drove him crazy, and he began to sneeze. The sneezing began shortly after I returned a phone call from Paul. I told him John was sneezing, and Paul said "Tell him that's probably a reaction to the pig semen."

"Pig semen," I said. "Yeah," said Paul. "That's like, the base for the fragrance."

"Oh, bullshit, Paul. You're pulling my leg."

"Well, yeah," he said. "I honestly have no idea what's in that stuff. Go tell that to John anyway."

"Oh, Paul. I don't know. I'll flip you for it."

So I went into the bedroom where John was lying down. This particular night, John wasn't just lying down, he was in traction. He's got malformed hips, and as a result, his hip joints have begun to deteriorate, so to alleviate his pain and keep his leg muscles from atrophying, he spends several nights a week wrapped up in a velcro contraption with a ten-pound weight dangling from each leg. I help him in and help him out of this doohickey, and between putting it on and taking it off, he must spend at least twenty-five minutes laying on his back, with the weights draped down off of the foot of the bed.

"Honey?" I said. "Paul says the reason you might be sneezing is because of the pig semen in the cologne."

John looked at me for a moment. "Whaaaaaat? ... did you say 'pig semen'...?"

Then I began laughing and fucked it all up. "No," I said, wiping my eyes, "That was a ribbing courtesy of Paul. That means he likes you."

But the look on John's face -- for that nanosecond -- was indescribable.

At this juncture, I honestly don't know why either of these men are still speaking to me.

But I'm learning not to question miracles.

---

Some of the worst pain inflicted on me this year came from places it never should have.

On the other hand, the nicest things have come from the least likely sources.

There's been surprises around every corner, and despite some setbacks, I still have optimism that I will find my way through this extremely peculiar thing called life.

And when I say that, my friends ... I'm not pulling your leg. :)

---

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