gayballs

I'm reduced to blogging from work again, emailing it to myself, and putting it up at home.
These last few days have been busy, eventful days.
After three-four days of escalating chest pains, my mother went to see her cardiologist on Monday. He sent her to the emergency room.

I'm not really one for freaking out, but I nearly bought a pack of cigarettes on my way there. Actually, I'm barely holding on in that respect. I went to see her. I left work early, kind of in a panic. I stopped off at the apartment for a spot of diarrhea, and I WAS ON MY WAY.

My mom's not the one that's supposed to die first, my father is. He's 80. and women are supposed to outlive guys.
I don't know what I'd do if my mother died.

My sister was in the waiting room and I decided to wait with her. I sat there for a little while before going to use the restroom. On my way back from the restroom my mom was sitting with my sister, chatting, smiling. "Gabi!" she shouted. I walked up and gave her a hug. "I'm so happy to see you!"
She was fine. She was happy. She was chatting on her cell phone with a bloodied up IV sticking out of her wrist. In fact, that was the only hint that anything could have been wrong with her.
Apparently her being in the hospital put her at ease. As I entered the hospital I noticed her car was parked in the super-duper emergency parking. The "I'm having a heart-attack" parking. My stepfather had driven her there, and both of them were scared to death.

But just after arriving she was fine. They hooked her up to some electrodes and determined that she had not, in fact, had a heart-attack.
She was straight-chillin. Her chest pains were gone.

We sat there for a few hours and chatted while ran more tests. I learned more details about my father's sordid past, how friends of the family knew he was nailing their mothers or how his secretaries had come forward at one point to complain about him. This is before sexual harassment laws.

Yeah. Go dad. I wonder how many other siblings I do have.

Yesterday at the very last minute I decided I should drop into the airport and see pollythundercat off, even if it was just for 20-30 minutes. It was a stupid move. I drove to the airport not knowing her flight information or anything. MIA is a huge, huge airport. I wandered for about 20 minutes before finding a flight that was headed towards Sao Paulo. I stood in front of the gate, starbucks cup in hand, hoping to see her. I even had her paged twice. I could hear it over the loudspeaker. Avidity texted me a dare to have her paged by the name "Pollythundercat."
Anyway, I had to go. I was gonna miss the movie. And piss off my woman.

The Kite Runner was a good movie, if you're a woman. Or if you want a good cry. I liked the book a lot, and the movie was solid. I'm just not in love with it. The music was all heavy-handed and heart-breaking. A lot of it, like I feared, was sentimental. .



But I still liked it. Go see it, once you've seen American Gangster, No Country for Old Men, Gone Baby Gone, and a few other movies I can't remember right now.



Right now from Netflix I have

Shallow Grave
Entourage Season 2 Disc 1
Live Free or Die Hard