2003-08-06 - 11:04 a.m.
dear diary,
i'm becoming fascinated with my body today, particularly in that i'm producing the most fantastic phlegm i've ever seen.
i gave the nurses a call and they said the phlegm is normal [they actually gave me mad props and said "keep up the good work, citizen! phlegm is your friend in the fight to avoid pneumonia!"]
the phlegm from the deepest darkest recesses of my lungs is dark and sort of hard in texture. but the mad rad thing is that it is strewn with these black strings. it's a veritable source of entertainment and i've made a game of "see what my body can make."
there is only a teensy tiny bit of blood when i cough it up, but it doesn't scare me. it makes me feel tough. like a single mother in the 80's with enormous shoulder pads and wicked stillettos capped off with a "can-do" attitude and a lot of big, frosty hair.
on further inspection of my bandage [remember that twilight zone episode with the beautiful girl that gets some plastic surgery and barely avoids getting turned into a pigface and the other pigface doctors and nurses unwrap the gauzy layers one by one? yeah, like that.] i discovered that there is a large chunk of dried bloody gauze on MY BACK.
i get the bloody smear on the bandage under my right tittacle, but dried blood patches on my back? how does that make sense?
AND I ITCH LIKE WOAH! why! i had this spectacular back scratching hand that i bought at walgreens for less than one dollar and it could reach all of those hard to reach places etc. ok look, it's not that i have places that are hard to reach, it's really just that i'm probably the laziest person you've ever met, diary. but someone stepped on my backscratcher and broke the fingers off of it so now when you use it on bare skin it's like having a monkey paw trying to claw your organs out from underneath their precious protector: skin.
oh god we have to stop talking about it. it feels like there are carpenter ants crawling all over my skin. and they're singing "if i only had a hammer" and it's driving me nuts because they won't eat anything but they keep fainting in between verses of the song.
one of my drug induced dreams was about two murdered girls- one was beautiful and one was ugly. they were both strippers. aj benza was narrating my dream. so i forced myself into waking up.
because i seriously hate that fuck.