Saturday, March 13, 2010

Savantus Interruptus

I had so much. To share. With you Dear Reader.
[insert sad face]

I had heartfelt stories of my tender youth.

There was poetry. And edelweiss.
The sound of harp music was everywhere and the whole of HS smelt like sugar cookies and sunny days.

I had anecdotes from my childhood without mention of secondhand smoke or tax evasion. (I didn’t say “stab”, “stabbed”, or “stabbing”, not once.)

I had recipes and homemaking pointers.

There were Ancient Chinese Secrets.

I had DIY brilliance and design tips better than HGTV’s finest hour (or half-hour) without the gay-on-gay cattiness. And without the crying.

I had stories to warm your heart and sharpen your mind.

I had tales of awe and wonder.

There was no swearing. And I only alluded to the V-word. I never actually said it.
You can’t do a post titled “M*rtha takes on David Bromstad” without referencing the V.

I had a frakken Don’t Stop Believin’ for Housewives. On. Deck.

When Daycare Mama came to get the kids she was "feeling puny", as they say.
I commiserated with her as we loaded kids into her car.

The fam and I went to dinner in a neighboring town.
Veni. Vidi. Vici.
I specifically vicied in that I consumed my goal weight in meat and veggies.
When I’m at the buffet I’m peacocking really. For the guy in the hairnet. (You know it’s you; Raul, or Rawl. I can’t read the neck tat. Is that infected?)

Anyway, I’m at the altar, loading my plate, wearing my wrist brace and loving the mounds of meat and bountiful broccoli... I'm wearing superfat pants and the harness that keeps me from hyper extending my lumbar region... forward to the vomiting.

Cuz we love the Unholy Urlich. It’s nature’s way of snaking the drain.

And I post about it because sharing is solace, I tell myself.

This was the grippe, not Meniere's.

This wasn’t worth a meme, a ballad or sonnet.
It wasn’t worth a post, not this post, or several posts.
(PostS, as in plural? Who-the-hell does that? PostS about puke? EgadS.)

This was vomi typique.
Barfe ordinaire.

Move along people. There’s nothing to see here…
Or IS there?

What transformed this run-o-the-mill ralph into spew spectaculaire is not that my Mr undressed me with his eyes whilst I made suffering cries that are disturbingly like pleasure noises.
This wasn’t Meniere’s.
This Reverse Atkins was significant because it interrupted posting and left me with nothing.
That’s what this post is about; nothing.

I can’t tickle you with tales of my technicolor yawn.
This emesisal episode wasn’t merely as underwhelming as kissing your sister. This was like dry humping the ayatollah. Who hasn’t?

But being sick ran interference on my posts.

I can’t talk about the time I got drunk in math when there’s emesis. And a raging headache.
It’d be inappropriate to share Kel’s Amazing Penne after telling you I yakked. And layed on the sofa all day with a raging headache.
You don’t wanna know how the 206-pound cheer captain made me feel like a failure. Cuz she was simply an unhappy b*tch.

So I share the puking. Cuz it’s relevant.
It’s relevant to my “To Do” list.
It’s relevant to weight loss and the following Bucket List (updated and revised during a four-hour stint with my head in a bucket. Cuz it’s relevant, and I’m cerebral, classy, and totally appropriate like that.)

BL549 Item 1 - I want to faint before I die. Not right before, as in Unconscious Before Death, cuz that’s a gyp.
I’d like to faint with the back of my hand to my forehead, gracefully falling onto [someone else’s] anomalous piece of furniture. A chaise or a settee will do.
I want to live to talk about it. Or blog about it. I’d like pictures ["Somebody grab Mom's camera!"], but only if I don’t pee myself. Do you pee when you faint? See? I need the experience, so I can teach you.

BL549 Item 2 - I’d like to learn to read British.

BL549 Item 3 - Like my mother (and her mother before her); I’d like to lead an uprising. It’s in our blood to cause a revolt. We’re natural revolters and I’d like to claim my rightful title as revolting.

BL549 Item 4 - I’d like to talk in hushed tones with my arch nemesis using veiled threats while pretending to look at art.

BL549 Item 5 - I’d like to perfect a recipe for soup using household cleaning products. I’ve made several batches but I’ve got no takers. I’m not even a good cook with real food so there’s that.

BL549 Item 6 - I’d like to write a serious piece.
Several of my blogger friends write fiction (aside from their blogs, which are totally fabricated tales of their fabulous lives). I have a piece of autobiographical work on deck but I’m having difficulty gelling my intro as man-nip with meeting and having to reproof a certain American Idol judge. “My eyes’re up here, Ellen.”
I can’t write about the semester I used chemical courage to get through Comm101. I’ve been giving rainbow speeches all night.

Remember to enter Mom's Bday GiveAway. Winners will be picked on Monday!


  1. I fainted once. It is an amusing tale. Perhaps I shall share it one day. There was no settee involved, however.

    I'm sorry you have been barfing.

    If you'd like, I can declare you Revolting and then you can mark something off the list.

    I once had a hushed conversation with my arch nemesis. But people think you're weird when you stare at paintings and talk to yourself, even if it is hushed, and even if you are using veiled threats.

    I think that's all, unless you'd like the addresses of some of my coworkers who I think would adore your chemical soup.

  2. I'm with you on the uprising. And I fainted in aerobics once.

  3. That was quite an amazing piece of writing for a sick person! Hope you get to feeling better soon.

  4. I have fainted a few times.
    Twice I was sick and once I was anxious about my mom dying. Have a scar to prove it.
    Didn't pee my pants though.
    Love how the hubby sizes you up during times of squalor- that is love. Or perversion.
    So I am confused. The Adkins made you do it?
    Or is bulemia the new MO?

  5. Different. Liked it. It was a good feeling reading it. Have a great day!

  6. So sorry to hear of the cacking. I hate throwing up, but mostly because it just seems like such a waste of food.

    Fainting is weird. I've only done it once when I was having blood drawn. But it's cool because when you come around, they give you crackers and Gatorade and call you "sweetheart" a lot.

  7. I'll revolt with you!! I don't know what we're revolting, but I'm with ya!
    I ALMOST fainted once. It was weird.
    And I think if I'm gonna die, I wanna die like the kind I almost did when I had the kids...which sounds weird. Anyway, my BP went so low I basically was the happiest, know nothing and don't realize I'm dying person in the world.
    Sorry you barfed. My youngest has been tossing cookies all night. :(

  8. I'd like to learn how to read British too. Maybe you can tutor me online???

    "totally fabricated tales of their fabulous lives" - classic Savant

    Hope you will be back to your old self soon. Or perhaps a Southern-loving version of your old self :D

  9. Chemical courage? Is that like liquor loquaciousness? Would Vlad help with the serious piece of fiction? He seems like the right choice for a tale that is totally fabricated.

    And I assume you did not basket toss the cheer captain.

  10. So you want to learn "British?" Wowie, Kel, you ARE in dire straits! Hope you get to feeling better, because the barfing and the head hurts can be annoying.... Especially when dry humping the Ayatollah. Smile and know that your fans love ya.
    hugs, Sue

  11. What you described, my dear, is not fainting, it is swooning - a beast of an entirely different color! (Also, era and style of dress ... but I digress.)

    Dry humping the Ayatollah ... hmm ... that's ... that's ... I give up. Words fail me.

    Oh, and I'm sending you a bill - getting that mental polaroid out of my head isn't cheap!!!

  12. LOL! You make puking seem like an adventure!
    Oh and item #2. You just need to read English with a British accent. Think Hugh Grant.

  13. You are such a good did you ever go so long without blogging. It just pours out of you even when you are sick! I can teach you how to make a mean lentil soup when you are done with all that house cleaning garbage! Hugs K

  14. I'd like to learn to write British, but I'm knackered. Blimey, I think it's 'appening!

  15. I agree with lady.

    And I'm sorry you've been barfing. I assume that's all better now. Lawd, it better be since I'm so behind in my HS reading!

    I've done #1. I was getting an x-ray (and was sick from other stuff) the tech said I looked like a building being demolished w/ the controlled explosives. I did not pee, crack my head open or remember a single thing.
    #2 - adding it to my list
    #3 (I'm likely to be the person causing the unrest and upheaval)
    #4 Done it. (But we were smiling at each other, pretending to say nice things.)
    #5 and #6, I'm going to wait and see what you do.

  16. ive got your back in the revolt, count me in... ill grab my pitchfork.. wait thats a lynching... is that the same or must i grab the dictionary?


The very purpose of existence is to reconcile the glowing opinion we hold of ourselves with the appalling things that other people think about us. -Quentin Crisp

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