We watched “The Road” tonight with Viggo Mortinson and it was beautiful and heart-breaking and I watch people acting the part of having to try and feed the water to their dying father and it hurts me and slightly offends me. Not for a good reason, not deeply, but I imagine the actors breaking from the scene, the dead guy sitting up and smiling and saying “did I sound like I was dying?!” and the survivor saying “yeah! And my tears looked GREAT too! What’s for lunch?!”
And I wish I’d had that break. And sometimes I feel dirty and guilty for going on Living. No break for me to believe I’m doing my Father a kindness by feeding him water. Just the guilt of having to say “no” because his esophagus had been so eaten by cancer that the water would trickle into his lungs and drown him.
No water, no matter how thirsty you are.
And something breaks the mood, and we keep on Living.
Bam. Apparently to help us celebrate Kristen’s birthday, a transformer exploded in our neighbour’s back yard. It was a huge plume of fire jetting into the air, and then the telephone pole burned like a torch for about an hour as the fire department stood back and watched. Eventually BGE came out and put out the fire – and power was restored at around 3am. Not bad timing… though even just thr 3 hours or so without air conditioning sort of made us want to kill. As the power was out, xenomorph facehuggers took advantage of the darkness to attack the Peanuts gang. Horrible huge-headed Alien spawn were soon running all over the kitchen harassing the cats.
And at Kristen’s birthday party I got feisty. I sort of bit Sharif. My bad. His fiance took it all in stride.
