It’s been requested of me (okay, well not really – it was an open tag) to do this thing where I write 15 statements anonymous to people on my friends list and then pick 5 people to do this, as well. Some of these may be directed at people who don’t even use their livejournals anymore, but here goes:

1. Slammin’ body, yo. Seriously.
2. Where the hell is the M-60 when we need it?
3. For the last time, I DID remember the talcum powder.
4. She went that way, and she said not to tell you.
5. Do I even have to say anything?
6. Dreadlocks, you imbecile! DREADLOCKS!
7. Forgetting those rubber bands in the Jeep was the smartest thing I ever did.
8. The left hand of God is actually in your back pocket. Mind your wallet.
9. I didn’t know they came that big. Or that thick, for that matter.
10. Love means never having to say you’re sorry.
11. I’m sorry.
12. Nothing a fifth of Jack and some Vienna sausages won’t cure.
13. Let me see if I’ve got this right: cut up the arm next time and it’ll bleed out faster? You’re a real pal. Thanks.
14. I’ve had my share of waffles in my time, but this takes the cake.
15. I mean it! I am a natural blonde! I just dye my hair to enhance my ethnic credibility.

Consider this a Quaker meme-tag: if you are moved to post it, post it.

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seem to have words for all sorts of subtle emotions, such as “Schadenfraude” (the pleasure one feels at the discomfiture of a friend) or “Gestalt” (the sense of the entirety of a situation, more or less — harder to translate).

Spanish, too; witness “duende.” And Portuguese: “saudade.” They both represent a sense of life enriched by the awareness of death and sorrow — the Spanish word is darker and more passionate, while the Portuguese is sweeter and more melancholy.

Is there a word somewhere for the intense desire for someone, anyone, to call you unexpectedly just to say they think you’ll be ok?

(No, that’s not a solicitation. Really.)

I love the idea that there are words uninvented in our language that have been invented elsewhere. Why in those languages and not ours?

What emotions do we need words for?

PS: You do realize LJ is the only thing keeping me going right now, right?

My buddy Skip is now on LJ.

Skip is the guy who knows where all the bodies are buried. Talented painter, art gallery owner, political activist…we’ve known each other since high school and before, and both live in the same small town we grew up in, trying to figure out why.

He is six days older than I am, and recently became a grandfather. (HA! Take that!)

Welcome to the madness, drgeorge.

C’mon, folks — come say hi, and lie profusely about yourselves.

I also didn’t eat much yesterday — an Atkins bar for breakfast, a cheese sandwich for breakfast.

I’m still not hungry.

(ASIDE: speaking of which, those of you who are celebrating the death of the lo-carb diet? please recall that different things work for different people. I used it on my doctor’s orders as a way to help control some vicious side effects from my meds. I lost 50 lbs. as an unanticipated result. I agree it was a fad, but I have to say it was one that worked for me. and I’ll never go back to another way of eating.)

I am not really sleepy either — more in a fog. I think i could sleep if i tried, but i’m not sure.

Seroquel barely dropped me last night.

This is definitely what they call a “mixed” episode — the racing thought and sleeplessness of mania, the depression of depression.

Random thinking. Don’t mind me — I jump between focus and scatter; witness the earlier poem, which worked well as a focus device; witness this post for a contrary example.

I do think I’m coming out of it a bit; but it feels fragile. I feel fragile.

apparently, we don’t need no stinking sleep.

(cue something blowing away in the wind)