Cranky, but respirating. For all my talk about being afraid of dying, I had not one single thought about anything when I almost got hit by a car yesterday. The driver braked, slid sideways, and stopped about two and a half feet away from me, car turned to fully intersect his lane. I just went "huh?" and gesticulated my apologies with my hand, like the pedestrian that everyone hates- the one that is apathetic to the terrified four year old that was sitting in the passenger's side, who would have seen your head smash into the windshield at a forty-five degree angle, with a car travelling speed of fifty km/h, had you actually been hit.

And I didn't freak out because I almost died. Because I realized, maybe I wouldn't have died, though I seem to be always assuming the worst. Cut hand with knife- get gangrene leading to endocarditis and die. Break leg- get flesh eating disease like cousin did- die (cousin didn't die...chill out). Get hit by car- Die horrible death of smashed ribs piercing lungs, bubbling frothy blood out of mouth and nose. But I realized that I would have been sent flying at the most, and just slide on my face on some ice covered asphalt- causing me to give up on my good looks forever, and live on a deserted island. Which, when looking at th temperatures right now, is not such a terrible idea. Other then the playing in traffic bit.

I went over to my friend the Cat Lady's place yesterday, with the sudden epiphany that I needed to have a girl chum again. Not bloody parts and juice of girl, I assure you, but just someone I could talk about infectious diseases and swap boy stories with. And that's what we did. Fully intent on studying Kafka and playing with her cats in the beginning, while she pored over...pores and spores in her hip looking Immuno text, I ended up instead flipping through her pathology/disease flashcards. The demonstration at the bookstore cites prime storing idea of plastic card holder pages in a small binder. Like baseball cards. Or Pokemon cards.

"Hey Billy! I'll trade you my Bovine Spongiform-E. for your Ebola, how 'bout it?"
"Well, I dunno Sammy, I sort of wanted your first edition Gonorrhea card..."

We discussed that you could probably make a game out of them, like those damn nerdy DND guys, or Magic fans. Millions of dollars in income would ensue. Each card comes with a graphic picture on it, of what the physiological aspect of the infection appears as- if visible. Bento's Boy and I discussed the prevailing amount of diseased penises in the collection and giggled over the pussy images. That's "Pus- y", not what you thought. Although there are some in there also. The Cat Lady screamed and ran away when I showed her,

"Fuck! This is why I'm going to be a Lab tech- I can't stand seeing that shit."

o_O ?

And last but not least (and old news-sort of- to some) Westjet got in a little trouble yesterday. He flipped his car on the way to school, and while he emerged unscathed, his wallet got gouged with $700 worth of fines that ensued, and his car is a write-off. I'm completely not responsible, unless I choose to believe in Karma, or the power of ill-thoughts, but of course I still feel really bad for the guy. He's going to fight all the fines in court, but seriously, he fights everything, for the sake of being difficult. And...that's all I'm going to say about that. But I am glad he's ok- though it didn't seem like he could be happy about that when he told me about it. Isn't surviving good enough? Sure, fallout, but at least it's proof of life, of living, right? You certainly can't fine dead guys.




  ¶ 10:27 PM