like mucus

i was going to start this post off with a story about a nickname but unfortunately i can't because i'm too busy being mad at google.

i don't even want to ask what the fuck is with this new buzz bullshit in my gmail because i'm afraid of my head exploding and leaving tiny bloody brain bits on my nice clean carpet when i hear some asinine response.

there is such a thing as being overconnected, google, and your determination to attain global domination truly frightens me.

and that's all i'm going to say about that.


oh, and also, i love my new android phone that hanukka harry gave me.


in other news, my dad died last week and i'm pretty sure he's the one who dumped that shitton of snow all over the east coast just to throw a wrench into our plans for his memorial service.

typical.

maybe i can tell that nickname story now.

so my dad's best friend stood up to give a eulogy and while i was appropriately sad and emotional, i definitely heard derek zoolander saying 'ya-googalie' in my head.

this friend began by sharing how he and my father met when they were five years old in kindergarten. my dad says 'hi, i'm rob mansfield' and the friend says 'hi, i'm mike lucas.'

my dad says 'no, from this time forward your name is like mucus.'

also typical.


on that note, i want to send a very heartfelt thanks to all my wonderful family for coming together from all corners in the midst of a blizzard to listen to me ask mulitple times if my eyeliner was running as i cried.

you guys are the best, thank you!

be still my beating heart

the blue-green sparks were enough to illuminate almost a whole corner of the dark room. crisp crackling was the perfect accompaniment to their bright display.

small wisps of my hair remained standing on end a second or two longer than i thought they would have. removing my heavy sweatshirt made me warm and cold at the same time.

laying down between the clean sheets had a similar effect.

i've heard of certain concierge services at fancy hotels that include a human sheet warmer. i wouldn't want anyone to take that moment from me. that special minute where the cold clears your mind and helps you prepare for sleep is so integral to me that i don't think i'd be able to settle without it.

eyes closed, the sounds around me became amplified. the whir of some digital device somewhere nearby, and the soft hum of the heat blowing through the vent were the most noticeable.

that was, until i nestled my head deep into my pillow. then the thud of my pulse began to pound through my ear, dull at first, then louder and more consuming.

i thought of the raven and the heart beating under the floorboards.

but that only distracted me for a brief moment. then it was back to only hearing the whooshing of my own blood in my ear.

switching sides didn't help.

we battled this way for what felt like hours. i tried to ignore my pulse, my basic life function, and it became the only thing i knew.

------

waking up the next morning, i had no memory of the struggle. it was only later that night, when the scene began all over again, that it came back to me and i knew what i was in for.

and so it's been, night after night, forever and ever, i am sisyphus and my heartbeat is my boulder. it sustains me and drains me.