Wednesday, October 04, 2006

...And I Feel Fine



Hey, long time no blog! Sorry, there have been extenuating circumstances that have kept me from being a good and steady blogger. For instance, my evil teenage rabbit, Kevin, was spayed a couple of weeks ago, which generally made me too anxious and broke to blog. That's her above, engaged in her favorite activity, eating fibrous objects that aren't technically food. She also enjoys ingesting doors, wall trim, clothing, the floor, rugs, boxes, paint chips and books. Especially books.

Here’s a fact I didn't know before I rescued Kevin: Rabbits are considered "exotic" pets and the vet bills reflect this. I'm not saying I would have left Kevin on the floor of that Cuban restaurant to be squished by a busboy if I’d known that ahead of time. I’m just saying I might have.

All in all though, the surgery went well. Kevin, who is nothing if not stubborn, refused her pain medicine, and instead took to violently attacking her litter box, whose plastic lip pressed painfully against her stitches whenever she tried to take a pee. She got the stitches out last week, but has yet to make up with the litter box.

Also, I'm now working what feels like 15 jobs, 16 if you count going to yoga so my slowing metabolism doesn't drown me in my own fat before I turn 30. Most people probably enjoy and are soothed by their yoga classes. I, however, attend Bikram yoga, which means that I pay over $100 per month for the privilege of twisting my body into painful and unlikely positions in a room heated to 105 degrees while some small, loud person with 0% body fat yells things like: “Stretch harder! Bones to skin! I want to see your ribcage pop!” and “Farther! Bend so far backwards you can see the floor! I don’t care if you feel like you’re gonna puke, just go!” for ninety. Minutes. Straight. And don't even get me started on the smell. Still, afterwards, I feel like I've just smoked a fat doobie, and it's keeping some of my cellulite and most of my generalized anxiety at bay, so there are benefits.

Still, it’s hard not to feel the generalized anxiety ooze in and begin to set after reading an Iran War roundup on Wonkette. My hair was practically standing on end by the time I got to the end of this post. Then I read the links to the real media reports, and it turned white.

Also, if we survive the nuclear winter, we could be heading into another Great Depression! And Condi’s been caught in a lie that will, likely, result in absolutely nothing happening to her! Ditto Mark Foley! Sometimes it is really really really really really fucking hard not to despair. I should have known better than to start reading Wonkette again. I don't have any idea how people in Washington manage to get out of bed every day. Thank god I live in New York. More celebrity beaver shots please!
However, there are at least two reasons for joy this week: the weddings of my long-time boy pals Tim and Ryan. Perhaps fearing that an Iowa wedding would lack the exoticism necessary to attract enough guests, both Tim and Ryan opted for destination weddings (Utah and Hawaii, respectively). I couldn’t attend, but I’ll see them in Iowa this weekend, where, rumor has it, much drinking and football watching, but very little sentimental reflection, will occur. And that suits me just fine. Congratulations boys! Keep the beer bong warm for me.

5 Comments:

Blogger The Count Del Monte said...

Susan...very excited to see that your she-rabbit named Kevin is on the mend. Ever notice how girls are always copping guys names, but it never goes the other way. I can guarantee that the sun will burn out before you see a slew of guys named Jennifer or Susan.

I'll be in town for the Purdue game this week. Looking forward to seeing you soon.

5:11 PM  
Anonymous Brad Glory said...

Dear Screwsan,

Long-time reader, first-time poster.

How could you post a line like "More celebrity beaver shots please!" without a link? I thought you were a veteran at this blogging stuff. For shame.

Sincerely,
Brad Glory

5:11 PM  
Blogger Screwsan said...

Mr. Glory, you're absolutely right. Please forgive my oversight and say hello to Lindsay Lohan's...well, it's not so much a beaver as a naked mole rat. You have been warned.

12:01 AM  
Blogger Tim said...

Hey sus,
Thanks. Missed you in IC a couple weeks ago...I called you Saturday night but you were nowhere to be found. That's okay. I forgive you.

I'll be back this weekend, Nov. 12 for Wisco, and for Christmas, so I'm sure I'll catch you pre- or immediately post-move. Nice marmot, by the way. I had an albino rabbit in college, his name was Winger. Unfortunately, his turd production made him unsuitable as a long-time roommate so we had to donate him to American University in Washington DC. God knows what they did to him, but they promised no dissection or hairspraying, so I'm fine with it. rock, Tim

11:42 AM  
Blogger killarie said...

SCHMUSHAN!

so you're doing the bikram, eh? --or, as i like to call it, "bitchram"... it's basically yoga for the S&M set, as far as i can tell at this point.

xoxx
hilary

10:59 AM  

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