The Spins

BAhahahaha.  It's not what you think.  I know, the title of this post has you strolling down collegiate memory lane, one foot on the floor, bucket by the bed, and the whole ceiling acting like a turbo jet engine on speed.

If that were the case I could drink some gatorade and have a bacon sandwich and be on my way to recovery until the next self-induced spell.

This, however, is Miniere's disease, a fluid imbalance in the inner ear.  Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee.  Good times. Just look left, or right, or up, or down, or sit, or stand or be lying still.  Dizzy.  Anytime, anyway.  Unpredictable.  An Adventure.

That was what I was gonna write about but now I'm bored with that.  It does remind me of the time, however, on new Year's Eve 2000 when I, my daughter and her friend were rear ended by a big asshole in a white mercedes or beamer or some other equally pretentious ride.  I didn't know it when it happened but I had knocked my head into the window.  It happened on a Saturday night.  By Wednesday i was so dizzy I had a friend take me to the emergency room.  I forgot I had been in an accident (that should have been my first clue) so when the snide ER Doc asked if I had had any recent head trauma I couldn't remember any.
BAHahahahahahahah.  Life is funny.

Turns out I had suffered a closed brain injury.  Took a long time for me to become aware of the word-recall loss, and it having have happened over ten years ago, I believe I have had a, mostly, full recovery, but it took a long time.

I used it as an excuse for a long time, too.  Except, looking back, it wasn't an excuse, it was an explanation.

Now when I have word recall issues it's just age and fatigue.  Because I stay up too late playing, you guessed!  Angry Birds.

I might be ready to give up on the pissed off avian game though.  I don't like these levels I've been seeing.  I revert to a three year old when I don't like them, "This is stooopid".  I fight through to conquer it.  I will not, however, be enticed to raise my score to three star level.  Some part of me believes that 'they' know I am snubbing them because this level is creatively inferior.  I don't think I like the fat birds, either.  They do have a lot of bang for the ... well ...bang, but I'd rather have a bunch of those little black bomb birds any day, any level.  They're so much more functional.

BAhahahahaha.

Okay.  Enough with the maniacal laughter.  Even though I still want to be Cat Woman.  The Julie Newmar version.  How on earth did she get her waist so tiny?  Of course, Eartha Kitt had the best purrrrrr.  These comments are open for debate, BTW.

And speaking of wanting to be fictional characters, do you know what else i realized?  I will tell you.  I know the suspense is killing.   You know when 'they' ask "what historical person, living or dead, would you have dinner with?"  Well, I can never come up with an answer and yesterday I figured out why:  because I don't want to have dinner with Liza Minelli.  I want to BE Liza Minelli.  and Johnny Depp.  And Isabella Rosselini.  Not Johnny Carson, though.  I just want to be on his show.  I was devastated when he died.  Part of my dream was being on his show.  How could he die before I had my fifteen minutes?!?!  Honestly.  The colossal audacity.

Today, however, I get to be me, and that's going to be more than good enough.  I'm rather enjoying myself.  Spins and all.