how soon is now?

i think my acupuncturist is trying to kill me…

Okay, so maybe not so much kill me as something inside me: yesterday i got home and could barely sit up, like i’d done the ancient chinese equivalent of falling into a k-hole. it was nuts. i must’ve slept 12 hours. she did those suction cup things on my back, too.. thankfully the resulting big round bruises are barely noticeable… which, you know, I was really hoping to parlay into an exciting conversation piece: “Look at the size of those hickeys! On her back! She must have some large-lipped kinky boyfriend!” Oh well…

Not much stuff to purge, though, i guess, although considering my rock’n’roll lifestyle all i can think is that i’m going to wake up with a big purple-black forehead or elbow or something…

The worst part is the ensuing “high” is making me do things that are soooooo blonde. Makes me think of my ex, actually – he used to send me blonde jokes. Thought it was funny. Until I buried him under the Meadowlands…

Okay, kidding… kidding. Like I’d tell anywhere where I’d put the body. Whadya’ think I’m an amateur?!!? He he.

In full disclosure, though, I must admit I’ve been listening to his radio show. Oh absence makes the heart grow fonder or some narky bullshit like that, and obviously causes water on the brain, making it forget over a decade of its owner literally and proverbially beating it against the wall in frustration…

Actually, that’s the worst part of these here “Internets.” Too much access to everything and everyone, in some ways, but at the same time you’re not really engaged with those you’re virtually interacting with, it’s all fake, and like those awful high school dances, you’re still standing by the bleachers, only this time you’re also blind. Unless, of course, you’re on one of those sites where you can see if the person you’re trying to interact with is online… in which case, you know you’re older than the geek you were, but you might as well be taking a header into your lunch tray in the middle of a packed cafeteria wearing a skirt that’s going to go flying up around your ears, exposing the big, white granny underwear your mother bought for you. (disclaimer: this never happened to me, but that’s because I was smart enough to hide in the art room through my entire high school career!)

Which is why I’m listening to the Smiths tonight and doing something I should be doing instead of sitting at the computer: Sitting at my drawing table working on a new comic. Finally. Life ain’t so bad…


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